They told him the car was coming before he even heard it, not with words or yelling, just that weird gut feeling that something was about to go wrong. Z had learned to listen to that feeling so he stepped back.
A second later, a black glider-vehicle shot past the curve, probably doing double the speed limit. It missed him by a meter, maybe less. No honk, no brakes, just the humming whine of the engine and a gust of wind that kicked dust into his face.
Z didn't flinch, he just stood there, blinking, watching the thing slow down, down the street and finally swerve into a hover-park slot like nothing happened. A guy in a long coat climbed out, yelling at his wrist-comm, not even glancing Z's way.
Typical.
Seventeen years old, first day leaving the orphanage, and someone already tried to send him back in a bodybag. At least they wouldn't find much to bury. He didn't take up much space.
The Code on his palm pulsed once, slow and very faint... barely visible even and weak. The world thought that said everything about him. And maybe it did... so far, anyway.
Sylvia had hugged him that morning. She wasn't the hugging type, not really. Years of running an underfunded orphanage full of half-abandoned, half-wild kids had turned her into a human brick wall with a coffee addiction.
But she hugged Z like she meant it.
"You don't owe this world anything," she said into his shoulder. "So don't break yourself trying to prove you do."
He nodded. He didn't know what else to say and he didn't cry either, though she probably expected him to. He just stepped back, picked up his bag, and walked out.
The scholarship had come out of nowhere.
No one at the orphanage really believed it at first. An academy like Galenhart didn't exactly go handing out invites to kids with Tier-0 Codes and no last name. Especially not someone with Z's file. No parents, no records before age two, no official birth city, just a baby dumped at Sylvia's doorstep during a blackout storm seventeen years ago, with a Code already registered as defective.
He shouldn't have been accepted. But the letter was legit.
Z read it fifty-seven times. Sylvia read it three then she triple-checked the watermark seal, the data signature, the headmaster's name.
It was real.
He packed that same night. Not because he was excited. Just because he didn't want to give himself time to think about it. When you've been told your whole life that you're broken, suddenly getting a golden ticket feels more like a trap than a blessing.
Back on the sidewalk, he looked down at his palm again.
The Code symbols were still there, faint white lines, barely glowing. Everyone had them. Some people had thick bands, intricate lines swirling up their wrists like tattoos made of light. Z's looked like a kid had scribbled on him with a dying glow pen.
He hated them. Not because they were ugly. But because they decided everything.
Your Code Root? Decided. Your potential? Decided. What tech you could interface with. What weapons would obey your touch. How fast you could move, how much you could lift, what type of magic you were allowed to use, or if you were allowed to use any at all.
The Code didn't care about personality or dreams or effort, it just was. And if yours was weak, so were you.
That's what they taught at every academy. That's what the Codex Assembly enforced. That's what half the galaxy believed.
The black glider that nearly hit him was still parked down the street. The man who got out had already disappeared into one of the coffee terminals. Z glanced at the vehicle again. Something about it itched at the back of his skull so he stepped closer and that's when it happened.
For a second, maybe less, something flickered in the air around the glider. Just a shimmer but instead of disappearing, it focused. Lines formed, letters, symbols, tags.
Just floating above the glider, like the car wasn't metal and paint and glass, but just... a layer. Like the real thing was under it and for the first time in his life, Z could see it.
Vehicle Type: Urban Glider |
Model: XV-Pro |
Speed Limit: 90 u/s |
Status: Idle |
Owner: Korlan T. Jax |
Code: Registered |
Safety_Brake: False |
Collision_Override: Enabled |
AI_Pilot: Sleep_Mode |
Threat_Index: Green |
His heart thudded once then it did something even dumber. He reached out, not physically, not like waving his hand at it or plugging into a port. Just mentally, with his eyes, like reaching toward the feeling itself.
A line shifted.
Collision_Override: Enabled |
Became:
Collision_Override: Disabled |
Z froze. He didn't know how he did it, he didn't even know what he did but the moment he thought the change, it happened. Like the Code obeyed him.
He looked around. No one else seemed to notice. No alarms went off, no satellites screamed from orbit. The glider just sat there, harmless.
He thought to himself, maybe he could undo it. Or maybe change more so he stared at one of the other lines.
Safety_Brake: False |
He thought about it.
Safety_Brake: True |
The glow around the tags faded, the shimmer vanished and the world was normal again. Or at least, pretending to be.
This wasn't magic, at least not the kind anyone taught. He hadn't activated any spells, no rituals or chants, just… intention. Like he spoke the Code without speaking. Like it had been waiting for him all along.
He felt a smile crawl up his face, not because he felt powerful but because for the first time, he realized something... his Code they called defective might not actually be defective.
The walk to the academy gates was long, but Z didn't mind. After what just happened, he wasn't in a rush.
Every few minutes, he glanced at his palm, half-expecting the Code to blink out again, or vanish like it never happened. But it didn't. The symbols were still there, still faint, still pulsing and looking a little different now.
It wasn't louder, just more present. Like a whisper that finally realized you were listening and decided to keep talking. He had questions, a thousand of them but one thing was already clear: he hadn't imagined it.
And if he could edit a glider's Code without touching it, then maybe, just maybe, he wasn't at the bottom of the food chain anymore.
The academy campus looked like something out of a government propaganda sim. Big white towers, shield domes overhead, banners flapping that said things like "RISE BY CODE" and "HONOR IN STRENGTH." There were security drones floating at regular intervals, scanning everyone and everything that walked through the gates.
Z barely got a second glance.
Scholarship students got special entry access. He flashed his ID tag, the gate buzzed, and that was it. No ceremony, no welcome parade, just a fifteen-second walk through a glowing scanner arch and then: Galenhart Academy.
Inside, the campus was quiet. First day hadn't officially started yet so most students wouldn't arrive until later that evening. But they'd told him to show up early for registration, uniforms, room assignment, and the usual bureaucracy.
He followed the signs toward the Admin Sector. A couple janitor drones rolled past, a trio of teaching assistants in gray coats were arguing about spell data at a bench. Nobody looked at him twice... which, honestly, was a nice change.
The main building was tall and clean and cold, like most academy buildings. The receptionist looked half-asleep when he gave her his name. She blinked at her screen for a bit, then nodded.
"Dean's waiting for you. Top floor. Take Lift-7, it's the only one cleared for visitors."
Z nodded back. "Thanks."
The lift was silent and fast. At the top, the doors slid open into a long hallway lined with white tile and golden light panels. Fancy but not too fancy.
At the end of the hallway was a single door with a plaque that just said Dean Halvorsen.
Z knocked.
A voice answered instantly.
"Come in."
The office wasn't what he expected. There were no trophies, no floating holo-shelves showing epic battle highlights or famous alumni, just a desk, a chair, and a big window overlooking the main courtyard. The man behind the desk looked more like a retired soldier than a school official. Big frame, close-cropped silver hair, eyes like he'd seen some sh*t and didn't want to talk about it.
He glanced up from a data pad.
"So the name's Z," he said, leaning back slightly. "Just Z?"
Z nodded once. "Yes sir. It's actually pronounced Zee. Spelled Z-E-E."
Halvorsen raised a brow curiously.
"Hm. And that's it? No last name?"
"No, sir."
The dean paused then just tapped something into his pad.
"You've got an interesting profile. Very little data before age two. Code registered as Tier-0. Root classification: Unverified. No combat record, no training history, no family sponsor. But somehow you got approved for the Galenhart Initiative."
Z didn't say anything because what was he supposed to say? "Yeah, I guess I slipped through the cracks"? Or "Thanks for letting the trash in"?
Halvorsen didn't wait for a response though.
"You understand how rare that is? Getting in without a Root classification?"
"I do now."
"Good. Then you also understand that if you don't meet performance minimums by your first quarter evaluations, your scholarship gets revoked."
"I read the fine print."
"Did you read the part where you'll be assigned a guardian monitor? Someone who checks your Code output weekly and flags abnormalities?"
Z blinked, that part hadn't been in the letter.
"No, sir."
The dean didn't look surprised.
"We added it two days ago... because of you."
Z stared at him. "Because of me?"
"You've got anomalies in your registration. We're still not sure why the Assembly approved your slot. Some of us think it's a mistake, others think it's a test and I don't care either way. What I care about is this school's record."
"Understood."
"Good. Then go see the uniform tech, get your schedule and settle in before the others arrive. Your guardian will meet you tonight."
Z gave a small nod, turned to leave—
"And Z?"
He stopped, Halvorsen was still watching him, still calm but his eyes had narrowed just a little.
"Don't try anything stupid. This isn't a street orphanage. You break rules here, you don't get detention, you get expelled. Or worse."
Z nodded without saying anything else. He stepped back out into the hallway and took a breath.
His pulse hadn't spiked once during the conversation and that was good. He needed calm, he needed focus because what Halvorsen didn't know, what no one knew yet was that Z had already broken the first rule of the Code the moment he stepped on campus.
No unclassified Root had ever made it through the gates of Galenhart and yet here he was, with the one Root that didn't officially exist.