The world had already ended once.What came after wasn't peace—it was survival wearing the mask of civilization.
The base that Osborn Giggs called home was a patchwork of metal, scavenged concrete, and desperate hope. People called it Redhaven, though there was nothing red or safe about it. The walls were rusted steel sheets welded together, the streets muddy with rain and ash. Beyond those walls, the world belonged to the dead—the shambling, howling remains of humanity.
Osborn was twelve, though years didn't mean much anymore. He didn't remember the old world—only fragments from when he was small. Light bulbs that always worked. Bread that came in plastic bags. His sister, Mara, wearing a clean white shirt and laughing with their parents. Then the screams, the running, the smell of rot. After that, only Mara remained.
Now she was twenty and one of Redhaven's scavenger team members—an awakened.A fire user. B-Rank.To Osborn, she might as well have been one of the gods from the stories.
He watched her every morning from their cramped shelter room, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she cleaned her scorched gauntlets. The flame tattoo that marked her awakening glowed faintly on her wrist whenever she focused her energy. The light flickered like the embers of a dying fire.
"You're up early," she said without looking at him.
"I didn't sleep much," Osborn replied. His voice was quiet. "The alarms kept going off last night."
"Yeah. Western perimeter got hit again. Level Twos this time. But they handled it." She glanced up, her expression softening. "You shouldn't worry so much, Oz."
He shrugged. "I'm not worried."
"You're lying."
He smiled faintly. She always saw through him.
Outside, the base was waking. The sound of generators, the clatter of boots, the cough of smoke from makeshift chimneys. People queued for rations—mostly canned beans, dried roots, sometimes salted meat if the hunters got lucky.
Mara strapped on her gear. She looked like she'd been built for this world—scarred leather jacket, reinforced gloves, knife on her thigh, her long brown hair tied back in a rough braid.
"I'll be back before sundown," she said, slinging her pack over her shoulder.
"You said that last time," Osborn muttered.
"And I came back, didn't I?" She ruffled his hair, her tone soft. "Stay inside the base. No wandering past the checkpoints. If Commander Holt catches you near the outer wall again—"
"I know," he cut in. "He'll make me scrub the latrines for a week."
Mara grinned. "Smart kid."
Then she was gone, her silhouette merging with the scavenger convoy that rumbled through the base gates. A line of trucks armored with steel plates and welded spikes. Hunters, mechanics, medics. And at the front—Mara, with fire burning in her hands as she led them into the ruins.
The day crawled by.Osborn worked in the ration depot, sorting cans and broken tools for trade. His hands were small but steady. The quartermaster, an old man with a prosthetic leg, often said, "Kid's got patience. That's rare these days."
Patience wasn't a virtue in this world—it was a necessity.
Every few hours, sirens wailed from the perimeter towers, a reminder that the undead never slept. Sometimes gunfire followed, sometimes screams. The walls held. Usually.
By evening, when the trucks finally returned, the air smelled of smoke and gunpowder. Osborn pushed through the crowd at the gate, searching for his sister's face.
She was there—limping, exhausted, streaked with soot but alive. Relief hit him like breath after drowning.
"Hey, Oz." Her voice was rough. "Guess what I brought you."
She opened her gloved palm.
A crystal.Small, jagged, faintly pulsing with blue light.
Osborn stared. "Is that…?"
"Level One," Mara said. "You've been saving rations for months, right? Traded for scraps, helped in the depot. You earned this."
His heart pounded. "You mean… I can—"
"Not yet." She closed his fingers over the crystal gently. "Your body's still growing. It's risky for someone your age to awaken."
"But you did it when you were seventeen."
"And I almost died," she said quietly. "You're not me, Oz."
He looked down. The crystal's glow leaked through his fingers, lighting the dirt at his feet. "If I was awakened, I could help you. You wouldn't have to go out there every day."
Mara smiled—tired, bittersweet. "That's not your job. Your job is to live."
Weeks passed.
Rumors spread through Redhaven like infection. The undead were evolving again. Stronger, faster. Some said they'd seen ones that could speak. Commanders debated new defense plans; scavenger teams went missing more often.
One evening, Osborn waited at the gate for hours past curfew. The trucks should've returned by dusk. They didn't.
When they finally rolled in after midnight, only three made it back. Blood-smeared, half-empty.
Mara wasn't on them.
Osborn ran from one truck to the next, calling her name, his voice cracking. Then he saw her—sitting in the back of the last vehicle, her arm wrapped in bandages, her face pale.
She looked up and tried to smile. "Told you I'd come back."
He wanted to yell, to ask what happened, but the words stuck in his throat.
Later, when they were back in their room, Mara spoke first.
"Lost two of my team," she said quietly. "Ambushed near an old pharmacy. We barely made it out. But…" She reached into her pack and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.
A crystal.Much larger this time. Its glow was deeper, like frozen lightning.
"Level Three," she said.
Osborn's eyes widened. "That's… too much. You could trade that for food, ammo, medicine—"
"I already did." Her voice broke slightly. "I traded my Level Ones, Twos, everything we had left. Even burned a few zombies myself for this one."
He stared at her, realization sinking in. "For me?"
She nodded.
"Mara, no. I can't—"
"You can," she said firmly. "You're ready, Oz. I can feel it. The world's changing, and you won't survive long as you are. I won't always be here to protect you."
He swallowed hard. "What if I die?"
"Then I'll find you and kick your ass in the afterlife."
Despite the heaviness in his chest, Osborn laughed weakly.
That night, rain hammered the roof.Mara sat beside him as he held the crystal in both hands. Its light flickered, reflecting in his wide eyes.
"You'll feel pain," she warned softly. "Don't fight it. Let it in. Let it burn you clean."
He nodded.
Then he swallowed the crystal.
For a second, nothing happened.Then everything did.
Agony exploded through him—white-hot, tearing every nerve apart. His lungs seized, his skin felt like it was being peeled away from the inside. He fell forward, gasping, clawing at the ground as heat coursed through his veins. His heart hammered out of rhythm; his body convulsed violently.
He screamed until his voice broke, and then there was only silence.The last thing he saw was his sister's face hovering over him, her hands shaking as she tried to hold him down.
"Stay with me, Oz! Stay—"
Darkness.
He drifted in the void.
No sound, no pain, only cold. Then—whispers.Countless voices, speaking languages he didn't know but somehow understood. They called his name, again and again, pulling him deeper.
Then the darkness cracked like glass.
He was standing on an endless plain of stars. The sky above him was a swirling mass of colors—blue, violet, black. Before him hung a door, massive and ancient, floating in nothing. Its surface shimmered like liquid metal.
Instinct told him to open it.Something older than thought warned him not to.
He reached out anyway.
When his fingers brushed the surface, visions flooded his mind—worlds beyond worlds, a thousand realities overlapping. Shadows moving between them. Creatures too vast for comprehension.
And among them, a reflection of himself—standing tall, eyes glowing like twin galaxies.
A voice echoed through the space.
"You see, but you are not yet seen.The eye opens, the gate awaits."
The door burst into light, and Osborn fell through.
He woke with a jolt, coughing violently. His body was drenched in sweat. The air smelled of smoke and blood.
Mara was beside him, eyes red, relief flooding her face. "You're alive… thank God, you're alive."
Osborn blinked. The room felt different—brighter, sharper. He could see every grain of dust in the air, every flicker of the candlelight.
And then—he felt it.A space inside him. Vast, endless. Like something had opened.
He whispered hoarsely, "I… I can feel something."
Mara leaned closer. "What do you see?"
He hesitated. Then, without meaning to, he focused on the air before him.
The world shimmered.For a heartbeat, he saw another place—an empty, white expanse beyond a veil of glass. His breath caught.
"I think," he whispered, "I can see… another world."
When Oz opened his eyes, the world felt different.
The dim light of an oil lamp flickered across the small room, shadows dancing along the cracked concrete walls.The air smelled of rust, smoke, and old sweat. Mara sat beside the bed, her hair messy, eyes red from sleepless nights.
"Oz…" she said softly.He blinked, throat dry. "...Sis? I didn't die?"
Mara exhaled shakily, half laughing, half crying. "Not yet, you stubborn idiot. You almost burned yourself alive, though."
Oz tried to sit up. His body felt heavier and lighter at the same time—like something vast and invisible was now living inside him. He clenched his hands. The strength pulsing beneath his skin didn't feel human anymore.
"I saw something," he whispered. "In my dream. There was… a door, floating in a sky full of stars. And a voice spoke to me."
Mara's brow furrowed. "A door?"
He nodded. "It called my name. And now… everything feels different."
He reached for a screwdriver on the table. Something inside him responded—an instinct more than thought.The screwdriver shimmered and vanished.The air stilled for a heartbeat before it appeared again in his palm, clean and untouched.
Mara's eyes widened. "What the—"
"I think I can store things," Oz said, his voice trembling with awe. "Not just carry them—actually store them somewhere else."
"Inside you?"
He nodded quickly. "Yes. In a kind of… space. Like a personal dimension. I can keep anything in there, as long as it's not alive."
Mara stared at him, stunned. Then slowly, she smiled—a mix of amazement and fear. "That's… incredible. You could change how scavenging works completely."
Oz grinned, excitement flickering in his eyes. "That's not all."
Her smile faded. "There's more?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. The second ability—I call it Dimensional Peek. It lets me look into other worlds."
"Other… worlds?" she repeated carefully.
"Yes," Oz said. His tone was steady now, as if the truth grounded him. "I can see into other dimensions—different realities overlapping ours. One was full of people flying with swords and glowing with spiritual energy. Another was filled with warriors practicing strange martial arts. I saw a world ruled by magic towers, and another that looked like… the old Earth. Before the fall."
Mara stared at him like he'd just spoken madness—but the seriousness in his eyes told her he wasn't lying.She swallowed hard. "And the third?"
Oz drew a slow breath. "Dimensional Jump. I can go there. I can cross over."
Silence filled the room.
Rain pattered faintly against the metal roof. Mara pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. "Oz… listen to me. You cannot tell anyone about this. Not even Commander Holt, not even our team."
He frowned. "Why?"
"Because the moment people find out what you can do, you'll stop being a person to them."Her voice trembled slightly. "You'll become a weapon. Or worse—an experiment."
He stared at her, the innocence in his face fading. "So… what do I tell them?"
"Only one thing," she said firmly. "That your ability is Dimensional Space. Nothing else."
Oz hesitated, then nodded. "I understand."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Three days later, he could walk again.
His body had changed—stronger, leaner, his reflexes sharper than any ordinary human. Not as physically powerful as enhancement-type awakeners, but far beyond what a child should be capable of. His awakening hadn't just granted abilities; it had reforged him.
When the medical unit cleared him for duty, Oz joined Mara's scavenger team—not as a fighter, but as support.
His new role: Storage and Retrieval.
Before him, scavenging heavy materials like steel beams or machine parts was nearly impossible. But with Oz's Dimensional Space, the impossible became routine. He could "store" hundreds of kilograms of scrap instantly—no trucks, no cranes, no wasted fuel.
The team had five members:
1. Mara Giggs (B-Rank) – Team leader, Fire-type awakener. Brave, decisive, respected by everyone.2. Derek Shaw (C-Rank) – Reinforcement-type awakener. Big, tattooed, and loud. Swore like a soldier but protected the team like family.3. Linnea Carter (C-Rank) – Metal manipulation ability. Quiet, focused, the team's engineer and weaponsmith.4. Tomas Vick (Non-awakened) – Mechanic and driver, an old soldier who still polished his dented helmet out of habit.5. Osborn "Oz" Giggs (E-Rank) – Support. Officially listed as "Dimensional Space."
When Mara registered Oz at the central office, the clerk—a tired woman behind a cracked monitor—scanned his crystal signature.The device blinked weakly, then recorded: Ability: Dimensional Space. Rank: E.
"Useful," the clerk muttered. "Good for logistics. We need more like that."
Mara smiled thinly. "Yes. He's special."
Life in Redhaven ran on one currency: zombie crystals.
Level 1 crystals could buy a couple days of food.
Level 2 could buy medicine or basic ammo.
Level 3 and above were rare—used to trade for equipment, vehicles, or higher-grade weapons.
The base's marketplace was a chaotic mix of noise and barter. The air stank of oil and smoke. Tables were stacked with scavenged parts: circuit boards, pipes, car engines, torn body armor.
Amid the crowd, a small boy followed his sister, carrying nothing but an old leather satchel. Inside that bag—an entire haul of steel scrap weighing half a ton, neatly folded into another dimension.
When they reached the traders, Mara negotiated quietly, her voice sharp but calm.They sold the metal for food, antibiotics, and ammunition—enough for a week's survival.The merchants kept glancing at Oz, wondering how such a small boy had brought so much in.
She just smiled and said, "We have our methods."
No one asked further.
That night, the team gathered in their workshop. A small fire burned inside an oil drum, flickering orange against the walls.
Tomas passed a can of beans to Oz. "Here, kid. You've earned it. You made us all look lazy today."
Derek laughed, slapping his knee. "No kidding! If we'd had him a year ago, my damn spine wouldn't still hurt from hauling iron beams."
Linnea smiled softly. "Don't forget who convinced the Commander to let him join. Without Mara, he'd still be scrubbing dishes."
Mara looked around the group—these people weren't just teammates. They were survivors who had become family."Thanks, everyone," she said. "Oz may be young, but he's part of the team now. And he's going to help us rebuild faster than we ever thought possible."
Derek raised his can. "To the kid with the magic pocket!"
Everyone laughed. Oz blushed but smiled.For the first time in years, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere.
But at night, when everyone else slept, Oz would lie awake and peek.
He used his Dimensional Peek ability in silence, reaching his mind through the invisible door that hovered behind his thoughts.Each time, the world would fade—and another would appear before his eyes.
He saw cities floating in the sky, people meditating beneath glowing mountains, warriors shattering stone with bare hands.He saw magicians commanding storms from towers that touched the clouds.And once, he saw a modern world that looked like before the end—cars speeding down bright highways, people laughing under neon lights.
"That world…" he whispered to himself. "Is that what we lost—or what we're meant to find again?"
Every glimpse left him trembling with awe—and with an ache he didn't understand.Maybe this power wasn't just a gift. Maybe it was a call.
At dawn, new orders came from the base: a scavenging mission to the Western Industrial Zone—an old factory district crawling with undead.The place was filled with heavy machinery, metal frames, and steel walls—resources too large for any previous team to recover.
This time, though, they had Oz.
Standing by the trucks at the gate, Mara tightened her gloves and turned to him."You ready, little brother?"
Oz nodded, slinging his satchel across his shoulder. "Ready."
Mara smiled faintly, pride flickering in her eyes. "Then let's show them what the Giggs team can really do."
The gate opened with a grinding roar, the cold wind sweeping in from the wasteland.The world beyond was broken, gray, and hungry—but this time, Oz didn't feel small.
He felt awake.