There was a soft hum. Gentle. Comforting in a way he hadn't felt in years.
Lucan blinked.
His mother. Humming.
Then another voice followed, deeper — a man's.
"Come on, finish the name. He'll wake up any second."
Lucan froze. That voice—
He didn't think. He ran, barefoot down the old stairs, heart pounding with a strange mixture of hope and fear. The scent of frosting and vanilla filled the air, tugging at something buried deep in his chest.
He reached the kitchen.
And there they were.
His mother, her back turned, piping the final letters onto a small birthday cake. His father, leaning over her shoulder with that same easy grin Lucan had only ever seen in photos.
They turned at once.
"Surprise!"
Lucan stopped in his tracks.
His breath hitched, knees nearly buckling as tears filled his eyes before he even realized.
"Where were you…?" he is stumbling forward, with voice cracking.
"Where did you go? I waited… I waited so long…"
He collapsed into them, arms wrapping tight around both as if they might disappear at any second. His mother kissed the top of his head. His father's arms circled his shoulders.
"We had to go, son…" his father said gently.
"We didn't want to leave, but—"
His voice stuttered. Glitched.
Lucan stiffened.
"—leave, but—leave, but—leave, but—"
He pulled back slightly. His father's face twitched. Eyes blinked in a repeating loop. Mouth moving, but no sound.
His mother was still smiling. Still icing the cake.
Still tracing the same two letters. Over. And over.
"L-U"
"L-U"
"L-U"
Lucan looked at the counter.
The cake wasn't finished.
His own shadow wasn't there.
"What… is this…?"
The room began fracturing, like glass cracking silently. Light spilled in through the seams — not warm this time. Cold. Blue. Artificial.
He turned to speak — but the entire scene collapsed in absolute silence.
Everything — the house, the scent, the warmth — was gone.
Lucan jolted upright, gasping.
"What a messed-up way to start my birthday," Lucan muttered, rubbing his eyes.
"Why now? Why their faces after all this time? I barely even remember them… I shouldn't care anymore."
His jaw clenched.
"They left me. I should hate them for that. So why the hell did seeing them break me?"
Silence answered him.
He shook his head.
"Whatever."
He looked down at his hands.
No blood. No glowing veins. No cracks in the skin.
He scrambled to his feet, half-expecting pain to shoot through his legs — but nothing. Just soreness, like the echo of something brutal that should have torn him apart.
"Was that wild night a dream too…?"
His eyes swept the room again — every corner, every shadow. Nothing felt quite real.
Then he remembered.
The screen.
The thing that had hovered in front of his face — those lines of light, that voice in his head.
He scoffed to himself. "If that was real, it would've…"
His thought cut short.
It appeared with a faint chime and a flicker of blue, a translucent window blinked into existence midair, hovering inches from his face.
"…what the…"
Lucan blinked, then slowly picked up a pillow from the bed. He tossed it forward. It passed clean through the screen — no resistance, no sound.
"Okay. Not a hologram."
As if responding to his thoughts, the screen suddenly changed. Symbols shifted, scrambled text briefly filled the window before stabilizing into a strange series of messages.
[God Gene: Detected]
[Primary Host Identified: ??????]
[Core Integrity: Stabilizing…]
[Astral Shell Formation: 14% Complete]
[Neural Link Sync: Partial]
[Awakening Phase: Tier-0 Initiated]
> WARNING: Memory Fractures Detected
> WARNING: Emotional Leakage Interfering with Sync
[Do not attempt to interact with forbidden knowledge.]
> Incoming Data Stream: Blocked
> External Watchers: Active
[Welcome, Abysswalker.]
Lucan stared at the hovering screen, his eyes narrowing at the single line that made everything else blur.
[Primary Host Identified: ??????]
"What the hell does that even mean? Am I The Host?"
His brow furrowed.
"Shouldn't it just say… Lucan?"
The moment the thought finished, the text shimmered. The glitchy question marks flickered, reshaped themselves, and settled into a new line.
[Primary Host Identified: LUCAN]
"Did… it just respond to me?"
His gaze darted down the list of system messages again, fingers twitching with a strange compulsion to test it. He focused on one of the more ominous lines.
"Enable incoming data stream."
Nothing happened.
Then a sharp chime echoed from the screen.
[ACCESS DENIED: Host Qualification Level: INSUFFICIENT]
Lucan scoffed. "Figures."
His eyes moved again, this time landing on:
> External Watchers: Active
That one made his stomach twist.
"Who the hell is watching me? Disable external watchers."
A brief pause — then:
> External Watchers: DISABLED
Lucan exhaled slowly, both impressed and unnerved.
"Okay. So, some of this I can control. But… what even is 'Memory Fractures'?
And what the hell does 'Forbidden Knowledge' mean?"
He didn't get time to think on it.
His phone alarm blared suddenly, making him flinch.
8:00 AM.
"What the—? It's already this late?"
He jumped to his feet, slipping the phone into his pocket, and rushed out.
He peeked into his grandfather's room. The old man was still curled up under the blanket, mouth slightly open, snoring softly.
Lucan sighed in relief, stepped in, and gently shook his shoulder.
"Hey, Grandpa. Time to get up. Breakfast?"
Lucan helped him sit up, then headed to the kitchen. He threw slices of bread into the toaster and cracked eggs into the pan, letting the scent of butter and salt fill the house. As the eggs sizzled, he reached for his phone and scrolled to Lyra's contact.
She picked up on the first ring.
"Hey, listen." Lucan said quickly, "You need to come here ASAP. I—"
"I know, I know." she cut in, voice casual but sharp. "Calm down. I'll be there in a few minutes. You can ask me whatever you want and Happy Birthday btw"
She hung up.
"What the hell was that?"
He finished cooking in silence, placed the plate in front of his grandfather, and handed him the newspaper. The old man grinned, poking at the crossword with a pen.
Lucan watched him for a moment.
"It'd be nice if at least he stayed healthy. So we could celebrate properly…"
That thought triggered something.
The screen reappeared — right in front of him, over the breakfast table.
He glanced at his grandpa, hesitated, then pointed toward it.
"Hey, Grandpa. Do you see that?"
The old man looked up, followed Lucan's finger. "Hmm? Oh yeah. You have nice fingers. What about it?"
Lucan blinked, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. I know, right?"
As he sat down and picked up his fork, his mind looped back to Lyra.
"Why did she say it like that? 'I know'?"
He chewed slowly, eyes flicking back to the screen hovering nearby.
Something wasn't right.
A knock snapped him out of his thoughts — three quick taps, then one slower.
Lucan stood and opened the door.
Lyra walked in, face unreadable.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah. I think."
He led her inside, closing the door behind them.
Lucan said, "You know what happened to me, don't you?"
Lyra looked at him carefully. "Yeah. I do."
Lucan blinked. "You're not surprised."
"Because it happened to me too. A year ago."
"I thought I was losing my mind last night. My body felt like it was ripping apart. And then… this—" He waved a hand, and the translucent screen reappeared, hovering midair. "I still don't know if this is real."
"It's real Lyra said. "And it means you're one of us now."
"One of who?"
She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. "There are people like you and me—people who live normal lives, pretend nothing's different. It's all because of gene that we have."
Lucan frowned. "What gene?"
Lyra looked him dead in the eye. "The god gene. You were born with it. All of us were. But it only matures at twenty-five. That's when the evolution begins. Some of us may not survive it. The ones who do… change."
Lucan ran his hand down his face. "Jesus."
"And you're not alone." She added. "There are more like us. But we keep it secret for a reason."
"Why?"
Her voice dropped slightly. "Because the world isn't ready. And because someone else is involved."
"Who?"
Lyra glanced toward the window. "The government."
Lucan stared at her. "Wait, what?"
"They know. And they're part of it. Maybe not all of them, but the ones in control."
He leaned back. "That's insane."
She hesitated, then said:
"If you try to explain this to someone who doesn't have the gene… you can't."
Lucan blinked. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I mean—literally. If you try to speak then your lips will move but there won't be any sound. If you try to write or type, then your fingers will move strangely."
"What?"
"And if you keep trying or pushing again and again. You'll either vanish. Or die."
Lucan stared at her, horrified.
"It's not us stopping it." Lyra continued. "It's something else. Built into the gene. Like a fail-safe. We call it… The Vein."
Lucan repeated the word. "The Vein…"
She nodded. "It's bound to your blood. Part of the god gene itself. It activates with your awakening. It's the floating window that you saw."
He nodded slowly, eyes drifting to where it hovered still.
"Only you can see it." she said. "Only people like us. It links to your body, your memories, even your instincts. But it's not just a screen—it's alive, in a way. And it protects our kind from being exposed."
Lucan looked back at her. "This is too much. It's not even been twelve hours. It still feels fake."
"I get it." Lyra said softly. "It won't feel real until it slaps you in the face."
Lucan exhaled hard. "Okay, let's say I believe this. I went through it. Fine. But how is the government involved in all this? How far does this go?"
Lyra stood up without a word and walked over to the window.
She pulled the curtain aside.
"See for yourself."
Lucan stepped closer.
His heart froze.
Outside, in the pale morning sky, dozens — no, hundreds — of floating machines drifted silently above rooftops. Some round like hovering eyes, others flat and disc-like, moving in slow scanning patterns. They crisscrossed the air in eerie silence, some pulsing with faint red lights.
Like they were looking for something.
Or someone.
Lucan's breath caught in his throat. "What the hell are those?"
Lyra's voice was low.
"Those are looking to see if someone failed to evolve… and turned into a Zeron."
Lucan stared at them. "Wait—why didn't I ever see these before?"
"You can't." she said, eyes still on the sky. "Not before your awakening."
He took a slow step back from the window.
[End of Chapter 2]