Kai awoke to pain and sunlight.
The light stabbed through the cracks of his eyelids, searing across the bruises that painted his body like a war map. Every joint screamed in protest. His throat was dry, his lips cracked, and his breath sounded like sandpaper. For a long moment, he lay still on the cold ground of the river lot, listening to the faint hum of distant traffic beyond the ruins.
He tried to move. His body refused.
Slowly, he lifted one trembling hand into view. The dull mark on his wrist stared back at him—unchanged, lifeless, the same worthless emblem that had haunted him all his life.
Except it wasn't the same.
He could feel something faint beneath the skin, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own.
He swallowed hard. "Show me."
The world blurred for an instant, then light gathered before him in familiar shapes.
[Resonant Eclipse System]
Sync: 0% (Undetectable)
Attributes:
- Strength: 2
- Endurance: 4
- Agility: 2
- Resonance: ???
Skill: Breath of Resolve (Passive)
Status: Pathway: The First Step
The sight sent a jolt through his spine. He wasn't dreaming. It was real.
Twenty hours of agony, hallucination, and collapse hadn't been for nothing.
The number had changed.
Endurance: 4.
And below it — a word that made his pulse stutter — Skill.
"Breath of… Resolve," he whispered.
He didn't understand what it meant. But the words glowed faintly, humming with quiet strength, like a secret only his bones could hear.
A weak laugh escaped his throat, half disbelief, half relief. Then pain followed it, forcing him to clutch his ribs and gasp.
"Still hurts…" he groaned. "Guess resolve doesn't fix broken bones."
He dragged himself up, body trembling, and limped toward the city as the sun climbed.
The guild dormitory was chaos by the time he returned.
Hunters stomped through the hallways in half-dented armor, shouting over one another about new gate spawns, mission pay, and missing loot. The mess hall reeked of stew, sweat, and cheap disinfectant. Posters littered the walls — missing hunters, new raid formations, gate ranking updates.
Kai slipped through the noise unseen.
"Look who crawled back," a voice called from one of the tables.
Laughter followed.
"Did the 'Lucky Zero' find a new way to trip on his own feet?"
He ignored them, weaving past the crowd toward the dorm keeper's counter. The old woman barely looked up from her ledger.
"You're late again, boy," she muttered. "Rent still due."
Kai dropped a handful of credits onto the counter. "Add a week's meal plan too."
She counted them, sighed. "You'll work yourself to death at this rate."
He gave a tired half-smile. "That's the plan."
The dormitory provided one thing he couldn't afford anywhere else: food.
Even if it was bland, rationed, and likely recycled from nutrient paste, it kept him alive — and saved money to send home.
He picked up the metal tray and joined the end of the meal line.
Later, in his bunk, Kai stared at his wrist again.
He wanted to understand. What exactly was Breath of Resolve?
He inhaled deeply — nothing. Exhaled. Still nothing.
He pressed his hand to his chest, whispering, "Activate."
Nothing changed.
Then he remembered the wolf from the last raid — how his heartbeat had steadied right before impact, how pain had dulled when it should have destroyed him.
"Maybe it's not something I trigger," he murmured. "Maybe it… protects."
He focused inward, slowing his breath. His ribs ached, but the rhythm gradually deepened. His lungs filled fuller than before, steadier.
And then — faintly — a pulse.
Not visual, not even auditory. Just a feeling.
Like invisible threads tightening around his chest, syncing with his breath. His body felt marginally lighter, his heartbeat more deliberate.
The Mark warmed faintly under his skin.
Then it stopped.
Kai exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Okay… it's something."
He grinned faintly to himself.
For once, it wasn't mockery or pity that filled his thoughts. It was curiosity.
Later that day, the guild posted new raid assignments.
Crowds gathered around the board, pushing and arguing. E-rank gates were ignored as usual, save for scavengers and low-tier teams scraping by. Kai knew where he belonged.
He moved toward the corner board.
"Hey, Zero," one of the B-rankers jeered, intercepting him. "Looking for another suicide trip?"
Kai smiled thinly. "Someone has to clean the scraps."
The man smirked. "Just don't get in the way of real Hunters."
Kai signed his name quietly on a small E-rank gate posting: Gate 412 — Western Sewers, Estimated Threat: Low.
He didn't care about glory. He needed the pay. Mei's tuition payment deadline loomed closer than he wanted to admit.
The sewer gate stank worse than he imagined.
They descended into the damp tunnels, the air thick with decay and the gurgle of water. The walls shimmered faintly with faint bioluminescent moss — a sign of Mana Overgrowth, where gate energy leaked into the real world.
Rats scurried between their feet, some glowing faintly blue — mutated by residual mana.
"Gross," one raider muttered, crushing one under his boot.
The team laughed.
Kai stayed quiet, scanning the darkness. His back still ached, but something in him felt… steadier.
They fought their way through the tunnels, blades and spells flashing against warped sewer beasts — houndlike creatures with too many teeth and eyes. The group was sloppy but overconfident, laughing after each kill.
Then came the ambush.
From the side tunnel, a wave of movement. Shadows poured from cracks in the wall — sewer wraiths, semi-transparent, shrieking in unison.
"Left flank!" shouted the leader. "Cover formation!"
Kai dove aside, clutching a dropped pack, as the others unleashed fire and lightning. The air filled with heat and smoke.
He turned — and saw it.
One of the wraiths had slipped past the formation, gliding soundlessly toward him.
He froze, back against the wall.
It lunged.
Cold claws sank into his shoulder. The pain was immediate, electric — and then his chest steadied again. His body didn't give way. His muscles tightened, holding the wound closed, refusing collapse.
[Skill Passive: Breath of Resolve Activated.]
He shoved the wraith back, his strength shocking even himself.
The monster hissed — and a firebolt struck it squarely in the face, vaporizing it.
"Kai!" someone barked. "You trying to die back there?!"
He didn't answer.
He couldn't. His heart was pounding, but not from fear — from exhilaration.
He had felt the skill. The surge. The focus.
It was real.
Hours later, back on the surface, the team laughed around their spoils.
"Can't believe the 'Lucky Zero' survived again," one joked.
"Guy's got nine lives."
Kai forced a polite smile. "Guess I'm hard to kill."
They laughed.
He pocketed his meager share of credits, the metal discs clinking softly. To them, he was still a burden, a joke.
But under his skin, the Mark pulsed quietly — almost like it was breathing with him.
He headed back toward the dorms.
That night, Kai sat by the window of his small bunk room. Outside, rain fell in silver sheets, tapping against the glass. The neon lights from the street below reflected in puddles like fragments of a broken world.
He stared at his wrist again, whispering, "Show me."
The panel flickered.
Skill: Breath of Resolve (Passive)
Description: The user's physical limits extend beyond standard capacity. Sustains function under lethal conditions. Endurance training efficiency +5%.
A small grin tugged at his lips.
The world still saw him as a Zero. But the truth was quietly changing beneath the surface.
He didn't know how far the Pathway went, or what waited at its end. But he had already crossed the first step — alone, unseen.
And maybe that was enough for now.
Kai leaned back against the bunk, exhaustion finally catching him. As he drifted into half-sleep, the whisper came again, faint, deep in his bones:
[Resonant Algorithm… calibrating.]
Then silence….