The alarm on Kai's wrist-comp buzzed—a harsh, grinding mechanical shriek that sounded like it was dying. It was a fitting soundtrack for 5:00 AM in Sector 4.
Kai didn't smash the device; he couldn't afford a replacement. He simply tapped the cracked screen with a precise, practiced motion to silence it. He lay there for a moment in the dark, staring at the ceiling of his containment unit. The room was little more than a closet made of prefabricated concrete, smelling of stale recycled air, damp mold, and the faint, metallic tang of ozone that permeated the entire Lower Foundation.
Through the single, grime-streaked window—no wider than a textbook—he could see the world above him. Miles away, piercing the cloud layer like lances of light, stood the glittering spires of the Upper Tier. They looked like jewels suspended in the twilight, glowing with gold and azure neon. Up there, the S-Class heroes lived in floating penthouses. Up there, the air was filtered to smell like lavender and vanilla.
Down here, in the shadow of the great city, the only jewels were the flickering signs of pawn shops, illicit Ripper-Doc clinics, and nutrient paste dispensaries.
Kai sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his narrow cot. His bare feet hit the cold metal floor, grounding him in his harsh reality. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and performed the daily ritual that every human being on Earth had performed every morning for the last fifty years.
He focused his mind, turning his gaze inward, and whispered the command.
"Status."
The air in front of his face distorted. A holographic blue screen flickered into existence. It was dim, glitching slightly at the edges, reflecting the low quality of his own bio-signature.
[ USER: KAI ENOS ] [ AGE: 18 ] [ CLASS: CIVILIAN ] [ RANK: NULL ] [ STRENGTH: 0 ] [ AGILITY: 0 ] [ MANA: ERROR ] [ TALENT: NONE ]
Kai stared at the zeros. He read them every day, hoping for a glitch, a change, a single digit of progress. But the system was cruel in its accuracy.
In a world where the average toddler had a Strength stat of 5, and even the elderly maintained a baseline of 3, Kai was a statistical impossibility. The doctors called it "Congenital Ascension Deficiency." The scientists called it a "Genetic Dead End."
The kids at the Academy just called him "The Glitch." Or, on bad days, "Trash."
"Consistency is key, right?" he muttered to the empty room, a bitter smile twisting his lips. He swiped his hand through the hologram, shattering it into digital dust.
He moved through his morning routine with mechanical efficiency. A cold shower (hot water was a luxury tax he couldn't pay), a packet of synthetic protein paste that tasted like wet cardboard, and then the uniform.
He pulled on the black cargo pants and the grey tactical hoodie. He laced up his heavy combat boots, which he had scavenged from a military surplus store three years ago. He didn't wear the white and gold armor of the Hero Course students. He didn't wear the blue robes of the Mages.
Kai wore grey. The color of the pavement. The color of invisibility.
He was a "Logistics and Analysis Student" at the Bastion Academy. In plain English: he was training to be a glorified secretary for the real heroes. While they learned to shoot fire from their hands or fly at supersonic speeds, Kai learned to calculate collateral damage, manage public relations, and clean up their messes.
The commute to the Academy took ninety minutes by Mag-Lev train.
The train car was segregated, though not officially. The front cars were reserved for "Ascended Citizens"—anyone with a Rank of E or higher. They had plush seats, air conditioning, and news screens. Kai rode in the back car, the "Civilian Transport," packed shoulder-to-shoulder with tired factory workers and other Nulls.
As the train ascended the magnetic rails, rising from the gloom of the Lower Foundation into the blinding morning sun of the Mid-Tier, Kai looked out the window.
The massive wall of Bastion City stretched endlessly to the horizon. Beyond it lay the Wastelands—the ruins of the old world, now the hunting grounds of Void Beasts. The massive energy shield that covered the city shimmered in the sky, a translucent dome that kept the monsters out and the citizens in.
Most people looked at the shield with gratitude. Kai looked at it with suspicion. He had read the history books—the real ones, buried deep in the old archives, not the propaganda they taught in school. The shield wasn't just a wall; it was a cage.
When the train finally hissed to a halt at the Academy Station, the difference in atmosphere was like a physical blow.
Bastion Academy was a sprawling fortress of white marble and glass, surrounded by manicured gardens. It was the heart of the city's power. The air here was rich with Mana, making the skin of Ascended students glow with health and vitality. For Kai, the dense atmospheric pressure just gave him a low-grade headache.
He stepped onto the platform, gripping the straps of his heavy backpack. It was filled with physical textbooks—relics of the past. While other students downloaded data directly into their neural implants, Kai had to read. His body rejected implants just like it rejected Mana.
"Look, it's the mascot."
The whisper came from his left. Kai didn't turn his head. He knew better.
Students in crisp uniforms walked past him, parting like a stream around a stone. A girl with translucent butterfly wings floated three feet off the ground, texting on a holographic tablet. A group of boys from the Tank Class were laughing, tossing a literal boulder back and forth like it was a beach ball.
Kai kept his head down, his eyes focused on the polished white tiles. The strategy was simple: be boring. Be invisible. If they don't see you, they can't break you.
He almost made it to the Logistics Building. Almost.
"Hey! Watch it, Zero!"
The voice was loud, arrogant, and dangerously hot.
Kai tried to sidestep, but he wasn't fast enough. His Agility was zero, after all. A shoulder slammed into him—hard. It wasn't just a bump; it was a calculated check, reinforced with a burst of kinetic energy.
It felt like being hit by a compact car.
Kai went flying. He lost his footing and skidded across the polished floor, crashing painfully onto his hip. His backpack ripped open, spilling heavy textbooks, loose papers, and his cheap stylus across the hallway.
Laughter erupted around him. It wasn't the laughter of friends; it was the cruel, sharp laughter of predators watching prey stumble.
Standing over him was a student with bright red hair styled in a jagged undercut and a sneer that looked practiced in a mirror. Brice. Rank D. Fire Manipulator. His family owned half the weapons factories in Sector 2.
"You're cluttering the hallway, Glitch," Brice said, his voice dripping with mock disgust. He kicked one of Kai's heavy physics textbooks. Smoke curled from the leather cover where Brice's boot made contact. "Why does the Academy even let you in? You bring down the average GPA just by breathing the same air as us."
Kai gritted his teeth, the taste of iron filling his mouth. His ribs throbbed where he had been hit. A normal person would have apologized. A brave person would have fought back.
Kai did neither. He calculated.
Brice. Class 2-B. Fire Affinity. Temperamental. Looks for excuses to escalate violence during sparring matches. If I talk back, he burns my books. If I stand up too fast, he perceives it as aggression and 'defends' himself.
Kai remained on his knees, reaching for his scattered notes. His hands trembled slightly. Not from fear—he had lost the capacity for fear years ago. They trembled from a rage so cold and deep it felt like ice in his veins.
"Sorry," Kai said quietly, his voice flat. "I tripped. It won't happen again."
"Pathetic," Brice scoffed. He looked disappointed that his toy didn't squeak. The heat radiating from his body dissipated as he lost interest. "Move your trash before I incinerate it. You're blocking the path for the future saviors of humanity."
Brice walked away, surrounded by his sycophants who echoed his laughter.
Kai knelt there for a moment longer than necessary. He picked up his book on Advanced Dimensional Physics. The cover was scorched, the title barely legible. He dusted it off with gentle, deliberate movements.
One day, he thought, the familiar bitterness rising in his throat like bile. One day, this damn system is going to break. And when it does, rank won't matter.
He stood up, slinging his damaged bag over one shoulder. He forced himself to breathe. In. Out. Ignore the pain.
He didn't know how right he was.
As he took his first step toward the classroom, the world tilted.
A sudden, piercing sound split his skull. It wasn't a migraine. It wasn't a physical injury. It was a screech—high-pitched, digital, and agonizingly loud, like a microphone feedback loop screaming directly into his cerebral cortex.
"Argh!"
Kai gasped, dropping to one knee, clutching his head with both hands. His vision swam.
"Did you hear that?" he shouted, looking around wildly.
The hallway was bustling. The girl with wings was still floating. The Tank Class boys were still laughing. Brice was flirting with a healer near the lockers.
Nobody stopped. Nobody flinched. The screeching noise was loud enough to shatter glass, yet the world continued in silence.
Am I finally snapping? Is this it? The madness?
Kai looked up, desperate to find the source of the sound. His eyes locked onto the ceiling of the main atrium—a massive, vaulted glass dome that offered a perfect view of the morning sky.
But Kai didn't see the glass. And he didn't see the sky.
He saw purple sparks.
They were faint at first, like static electricity dancing across an old television screen. But they grew rapidly, crawling across the invisible barrier of the Academy's protection field like a living infection. While everyone else saw a sunny, safe morning, Kai saw a spiderweb of violet fractures spreading silently above their heads. The reality of the world was cracking like an eggshell.
The screeching in his head reached a crescendo, a deafening roar that vibrated through his very bones.
And then, for the first time in eighteen years, the glitching blue screen popped up without him asking.
[ WARNING ] [ CRITICAL ERROR DETECTED ] [ DIMENSIONAL RESONANCE: 100% ]
Kai froze. The text wasn't the standard passive blue anymore.
It was blood red.
[ THE SYSTEM IS AWAKENING... ] [ FINDING HOST... ] [ HOST FOUND: RANK ZERO. ]