A young, frail-looking boy came flying out of what looked like a military base tent, crashing against the storage cases outside.
The sun was blazing, easily hotter than 95°C, and the collision from his fall made it seem like he had been launched at hyperspeed. There he lay, coughing and struggling to catch his breath. It was painfully obvious that he was badly hurt.
Only a few seconds later, another boy came out—this one not alone, but with his buddies. They were all laughing, each carrying a white envelope in their hands.
"So all of us made it apart from this punk," said the boy who was clearly the leader. He fist-bumped one of his new friends, and they all burst into laughter. Their intent was obvious—they wanted to hurt the boy lying helplessly on the ground.
That boy's name was none other than Alaric Grey.
"Harry, why are you doing this? I… I thought we were friends?" Alaric wheezed, still trying to catch his breath.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Friends, right? Well, buddy, we used to be. But now you and I are on a totally different level, so we can't be friends anymore." Harry handed his envelope to one of his friends.
Alaric also had an envelope, but unlike the white ones held by Harry and the others, his was red. And just like across the world—or even across multiple galaxies and universes—the color red wasn't a good color. In this new world, especially for teenagers like him, the color white was the most important and coveted of all.
Alaric had been hurt so badly that when he was thrown out of the military base tent, he accidentally let go of his envelope. Now it lay just inches out of reach, already covered in dust.
Struggling, Alaric reached for it.
Harry, however, told his friends to stand back. He wanted to deal with Alaric himself.
"So you're a negative, huh?" Harry sneered as he stomped on Alaric's hand. He picked up the still-sealed red envelope and carefully opened it. Peeking inside, Harry laughed.
"No! What are you doing? You have no right to do that!" Alaric shouted, furious.
"Whoa, feisty for a negative! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Harry mocked, almost losing his balance from laughing so hard.
He stood and handed the envelope to one of his friends. There were three of them in total, not counting Alaric—since Alaric was nothing more than their victim.
"Wait—are you serious? This guy isn't even just a negative… he's a minus negative!" Harry's friend was shocked.
The other friend quickly snatched it from him to see for himself.
"Wait, let me see!" And when he did, he too couldn't believe it.
He ran back inside, laughing his lungs out, and returned with a crowd of teenagers following him. It wasn't just a few—it was dozens, maybe hundreds. Each held an envelope of their own. Out of all of them, only a small percentage—maybe 10%—had the rare white envelopes. The rest were a mix of green, orange, yellow, and blue. Those with green envelopes looked especially ashamed.
"Hello, everyone! As you know, my name is Harry Kross! And as you all can see, I'm the very first to get a white envelope—along with my new friends here!" Harry turned his back on Alaric, showing off to the crowd.
Meanwhile, Alaric lay in bad shape. This wasn't the first time Harry had beaten him. Inside the tent, Harry's friends had already roughed him up before Harry delivered the final blow that threw him outside. Now, Alaric's face was bruised, one eye swollen shut, his lip split, and the other eye bloodshot.
But the truth was, Alaric had always looked frail and weak—even before this beating. He had the look of someone who had endured bullying his entire life, his thin frame and malnourished body making him an easy target. His clothes hung loosely on him, far too big for his scrawny build.
The crowd, however, was captivated by Harry's charm. No one had believed it was possible to receive a white envelope. They had heard rumors, sure—but most thought it was nothing more than a myth.
"Whoa, is that really him? Harry Kross, the boy from the slums who got a white envelope? Not even the rich could buy one if they tried!" someone whispered in awe.
"Shhh, are you trying to get us noticed? We may not be red like that poor guy, but we're still green," another boy whispered back, warning him.
"Oh—sorry, man. I forgot."
"Don't worry. This is personal to Harry. He won't bother with you," a girl said calmly.
The boys turned to see who spoke and were stunned. It was Khadijaah Muse, one of the most beautiful yet quiet girls they knew. When they saw the color of her envelope, shame washed over them, and they quickly hid their own.
While Harry basked in the attention of the crowd, Alaric was busy trying to stand. After several painful attempts, he finally managed to get up. His glasses, with cracked lenses and taped frames, lay nearby, and he picked them up.
"Hey, Norman," Alaric called out weakly.
Harry froze. "What did you just call me?" He turned just in time to see Alaric throw a punch.
From a distance, it may have looked like the punch would land—but Alaric was far too slow. Harry easily blocked it and knocked Alaric out cold with a single strike.
Darkness swallowed Alaric.
---
Bang! Bang!
Alaric's eyes shot open. He found himself back at his apartment. Apart from the loud banging, he noticed his TV was on, showing the news channel. The volume was muted, but he could still read the headlines:
THE NEW HOPE OF THE HUMAN RACE HAS FINALLY BEEN DISCOVERED.
The broadcast showed people clapping, singing, dancing, and celebrating in the streets.
Alaric groaned. His head felt like it was splitting open, the room spinning around him. Still dazed, he realized the banging was coming from outside his door.
"Hello?" he called out as he opened it, but no one was there.
He glanced around, half-expecting pranksters from the slums. Nothing.
Sighing, he turned back inside and accidentally kicked a box sitting on his doorstep.
"What the heck is this doing here?" Alaric muttered, picking it up. It had no address, no name—nothing.
Assuming it must belong to his roommate, he carried it inside. Their apartment was surprisingly large for the slums—just one room, but with two beds and everything they needed. His roommate's bed was empty, so Alaric tossed the box onto it and collapsed onto his own bed.
The box tumbled off the mattress, landing with a sound heavier than cardboard should have made.
Alaric sat up, frowning, and checked. Inside was a small key.
"What is this?" he whispered, picking it up.
The key looked strange—small and unlike any he'd ever seen. Curiosity got the better of him. He opened the box and discovered a small chest inside. Its design was beautiful, ornate, and clearly not human.
"Whoa… maybe I could sell this. Who knows? I might be able to buy my way up," Alaric muttered, glancing at his red envelope.
Excited, he opened the mysterious chest. Inside was a cube—frozen solid.
He wiped at the frost, but it didn't help.
"This box is full of good things, huh?" he said with a grin.
Studying it carefully, he searched for a way to open it, but nothing worked. In frustration, he smashed it against the floor again and again until his arm ached. The cube was unscathed, though the floor now had cracks from the impact.
"Damn! You're strong… Tell you what, I'll sell you to the black market for 500,000. Deal?" he joked to himself.
The key was still in his hand when he suddenly felt a sting.
"Ouch!" He looked down to see his finger had been cut.
"What the…?" he muttered, instinctively sucking the blood. He didn't notice that a few drops had fallen onto the cube.
Crackling! Crackling! Crackling!
The cube began to shift, making strange sounds. Alaric's eyes widened in horror, and he threw it away from him.
Pshhh!
It landed near the sink. Cold steam hissed from the cube as it cracked open. Something crawled out.
It wasn't human. It wasn't even remotely normal.
A tentacled, insect-like creature with spindly legs emerged. It had no face, no features—just a nightmare made flesh.
Alaric froze in terror. He tried to back away, but the bed blocked his escape. The creature scuttled toward him at frightening speed, climbing onto him. Before he could react, it forced its way into his mouth.
"Ghhk!" Alaric gagged and clawed at his throat, trying to vomit it out. Nothing worked.
The creature burrowed deeper. Alaric's eyes glitched and flickered like static on a broken screen. His body felt infected, like he had caught a virus.
Then, a message appeared before his eyes:
[ Congratulations. The Link was a success. ]
[ You have successfully become a Para… ]
But Alaric didn't finish reading it. Darkness took him again as he collapsed.