The Zone defied every law of physics Huey thought he understood. Blue geometric patterns stretched infinitely in all directions, forming corridors and chambers that shifted based on intention rather than architecture. The chair he sat in felt more real than the void around it, like an anchor point in digital chaos.
"Right then," Jazz's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "Pop quiz, hotshot. What's the last thing you remember?""Dying." The word came out flat, matter-of-fact. "Some psycho in tactical gear, a lab full of corpses, and you—" Huey paused, the memory crystallizing. "The hooded guy. He raised a sword over me.""Interesting. And what happened next?"Huey frowned, reaching for the memory like trying to grasp smoke. "Nothing. Darkness. Then I woke up in that lecture hall wearing his face.""Memory fragments," Jazz explained. "I can only access what's been integrated into your neural pathways. The rest is locked away, and honestly? I don't have clearance for the classified stuff either."
The space around them shifted, blue lines forming what looked like a massive library. Books floated through the air, their pages displaying holographic information."But I can tell you what you need to survive," Jazz continued. "Starting with the basics.
Catch."A book flew toward Huey's head. He ducked instinctively, and it exploded into particles that reformed as a floating display screen."Reflexes are intact. Good. Now, lesson one: You're not Marcus Chen anymore."The screen showed two identity profiles side by side. On the left, a tired man in his late twenties with hollow eyes and cheap clothes. On the right, a sharp-featured teenager in expensive university attire."Marcus Chen: Twenty-eight, crestless, terminal cancer, employment history consisting mainly of human guinea pig." The left profile flickered and dissolved. "Huegen Cross: Nineteen, youngest son of a major bloodline family, student at the most prestigious institute in the world. Also supposedly crestless, which is your first problem.""Supposedly?"
The Zone shifted again, becoming what looked like a training ground. Floating targets appeared in the distance."Raise your right hand."Huey complied. Blue electricity danced between his fingers, and one of the targets exploded in a shower of sparks.
"Symbiont-type crest, plasma specialization. Extremely rare subtype. Your official classification is 'unregistered,' which means using your abilities in public would be like setting off fireworks in a library.""Why the secrecy?""Because the Cross family bloodline is wind-based. Has been for generations. Your siblings all manifest atmospheric manipulation—your sister Hailee can literally take your head off with pressurized air. You showing up with fire and lightning powers would raise uncomfortable questions.
"More targets appeared, these ones moving erratically. Jazz's voice took on a lecture tone."Three types of crests exist. Symbiont; direct energy or elemental bonding, like yours. Aeon;, more or less like superpowers. Shard; construct creation from pure energy. Power scaling runs from Level 1 basic control to Level 5 master class, with theoretical Omega levels that can reshape continents."
A massive hologram materialized showing the global power structure. "After the Rift Wars sixty years ago, society reorganized around crest capability. The marked get the good jobs, the crestless get the leftovers. Thirty percent of the population has no abilities whatsoever."Huey watched the display shift to show unemployment statistics, educational barriers, social stratification. "And I was part of that thirty percent.""Were. Past tense. Now you're a walking contradiction, a 'crestless' student at an elite institution, which makes you either very lucky or very suspicious."
The training ground dissolved, replaced by what looked like a university campus map. Red dots marked various locations."Virelia Institute. Twelve thousand students across six departments. You're in Logistics and Support—basically the people who do the paperwork. Not as glamorous as Combat Division, but you get to keep all your limbs.""And my cover story?""Rich family, good connections, exceptional academic performance. You test well enough that professors overlook your lack of powers. The other students think you're either brilliant or insane."
The map zoomed in on a building labeled 'Galileo Hall.'"Your roommate is Calvin Esposito, Level 3 symbiont with magnetic manipulation. Good guy, questionable taste in women. Your cousin Willy has a shard-type crest—that talking wind squirrel you saw earlier."
Huey processed this flood of information. "What about threats? The missing students?"The Zone darkened, and creatures began materializing around them. Monstrous things with too many teeth and eyes that burned like coals."Variants. What crawls out of dimensional rifts when reality gets a hole punched through it." Jazz's voice was grim now. "Echoes are the weakest—basically angry animals. Aberrants are smarter, more dangerous. Titans are walking disasters. Parasites take over human hosts. And Diavolos..." The creatures all vanished. "Let's just say there's a reason most people pretend they don't exist.""
And the missing students?""Someone's been hunting high-level crest bearers. Kidnapping them, experimenting on them, trying to extract or replicate their abilities. Which brings us to your night job."
The Zone shifted one final time, becoming a walk-in closet. At the center hung a set of tactical gear—black jacket, reinforced pants, combat boots. A katana rested in a mount beside a sleek mask."Meet your alter ego. No official name, registration or backup. Just you, your abilities, and whatever criminals are stupid enough to operate in your territory."Memories flooded back, the feeling of electricity coursing through his body, the weight of the blade, the satisfaction of bringing down Dr. Vega's operation."
The kid whose body you're wearing? He's been playing vigilante for months. Taking down illegal operations, hunting Kaiser Syndicate connections, trying to solve cases the official agencies won't touch."Huey approached the gear, running his fingers over the jacket's reinforced material. "Why?""That's….. "
"Classified" Huey finished the AI's sentence. But I can tell you he was very, very good at it."Jazz's voice took on an urgent tone. "Speaking of which, I've been monitoring Toppler communications.
There's a Level 2 rift manifestation near the medical district. Small cleanup crew, minimal security. Perfect opportunity for you to test-drive your new abilities without drawing attention."Huey lifted the mask, noting how perfectly it seemed to fit his face. "And if I'm not ready?""Then you'll die, and we'll find out if whatever brought you back works twice."The Zone began to fade around them, blue lines dissolving into static."One last question," Jazz said as reality reasserted itself. "What should I call you? Marcus is dead, but Huegen Cross is someone else's identity."Huey considered this, feeling the weight of both lives pressing against his consciousness. Marcus Chen had been a victim, a failure, a man who'd given up on everything including himself. But Huegen Cross... he was someone who fought back and mattered.
"Huey," he said finally. "Just Huey.""Welcome to your new life, Huey. Try not to waste this one."The Zone collapsed, depositing him back in the hallway outside room 202. But now he could feel it, the electricity sparking beneath his skin, the potential for violence and justice in equal measure. Somewhere across the city, reality was tearing open and monsters were pouring through. And for the first time since he'd opened his eyes in that lecture hall, Huey smiled. It was time to see what he could do