CHAPTER 5: DAY ONE
Light pierced through the rips in the blinds.
Kiran stirred.
A slow, reluctant breath filled his lungs as his eyes blinked open. For a fleeting moment, he half-believed it had all been a dream—yesterday, the rebirth, the orientation, the impossible truths revealed by Aura.
But the room remained. Gray walls, flickering holographic ads outside the window, the familiar hum of the rusted sink in the corner. This was no dream. This was his new reality.
Before he could rise, a voice echoed within his mind.
"System objective complete. Host orientation finished. System shutting down."
A pause.
"Goodbye... Kiran."
Kiran sat up sharply. That voice. It wasn't the cold, robotic tone he had heard before.
It was something else.
It was... organic. Gentle. Almost like it cared.
Not protocol.
Not code.
"...Aura?"
Silence.
He stared at the ceiling.
But the words stuck.
"Goodbye..." he muttered unknowingly.
Then...
A faint breath of laughter—so brief, he wasn't sure it was real.
His eyes widened.
He waited... but nothing followed.
"No," he muttered. "That couldn't—"
Still nothing. Only the droning hum of the city leaking in from outside.
He stayed frozen for a moment longer.
Maybe she was more than she seemed. Maybe she wasn't just a system after all.
Whatever the case, one thing was certain:
He was truly on his own now.
Kiran stood. The floor was cold. His joints ached. He hadn't realized how tense he'd slept. Every muscle felt like it had been knotted in his sleep. The weight of this new world pressed into him the moment his feet touched the ground.
He dressed quickly, grabbed the frayed bag he'd found hanging near the door last night, and stepped out.
School awaited. Not that he knew where it was or if he was even enrolled. But he had a thought:
"If this world mirrored my old one even partially, perhaps the school was in the same location."
He followed the path he had walked in his old life. Each step both familiar and not.
The streets were alive with color and mutations.
To his right, a boy no older than himself skated through the air on rings of wind. Wind. How could it even hold the weight of his body?
To his left, a girl lifted a fruit stand with a flick of her finger. Like it was nothing, just to grab a snack.
A courier zipped by overhead, body cloaked in electricity. Untouchable.
And him? He was powerless, a boy who was supposed to be dead. On his way to a school he didn't even know if he attended.
He tightened his jaw, lowered his head, and kept going.
The school dome came into view. A familiar shape twisted into something unrecognizable by lights, banners, and impossible tech.
At the gate, a small orb scanned him.
DRONE:
"Student: Kiran Ren. Confirmed. Attendance logged."
So he was in the system.
He approached the orb. Cleared his throat. "I think I lost my schedule. Can I get a new one?"
The orb didn't move.
"Loss of schedule improbable. All students' schedules are automatically stored on their assigned NexBands. If you've forgotten how to access your NexBand, please refer to the introductory tutorial."
A soft beam of light hit his watch.
He flinched.
A small screen flickered to life above the old, battered watch strapped to his wrist—the very one he'd worn before death, before rebirth. For a heartbeat, he just stared. His breath caught. It was like watching a ghost speak.
Then, blinking lights formed words.
____________________________________
WELCOME TO YOUR NEXBAND
Model: Gen-3.8 Reissue
Owner: Kiran Ren
Status: 4th-year High school student
____________________________________
He didn't even realize his hand was trembling until the projection stabilized. A cold pulse traveled through his fingers. Part of him expected it to glitch, to disappear, like everything else he'd lost.
But it stayed.
Real. Tangible.
A sharp breath escaped his chest as the display shifted. The holographic interface unfolded before him—clean lines and shifting icons flickering with precision.
____________________________________
NEXBAND OVERVIEW
– Personal Schedule & ID Authentication
– Communication & Messaging Functions
– Access to Public Databases (Tier-Restricted)
– Emergency Medical Ping System
____________________________________
He stood in silence, heart beating faster. Of course, it had more tech than he ever dreamed of. This wasn't a toy.
He hesitated before reaching out—afraid it might vanish at the slightest touch. But when he tapped the corner, the screen responded instantly.
Room assignments. Event markers. Class schedule.
____________________________________
Period 1: Mutation Theory & Applications I — Room A3.
____________________________________
He stood frozen for a moment, processing.
Then, slowly, he took a breath—and followed the crowd.
He moved through halls buzzing with students. Some ignored him. Others sneered. A few made no attempt to hide their distaste—eyes narrowing at his generic clothes, his cheap NexBand, his lack of an aura.
He caught whispers:
"That Ren kid again. Still hanging around?"
"Seriously. You'd think he'd take a hint. No power, no background—just another nobody clinging on."
A flicker of heat rose in his chest. Embarrassment? Anger? Who knows. It pulsed through his ribs like something venomous.
In this world, just like the last, he was just a stain on the roster. A bottom-feeder. A body without weight in a system that only measured legacy.
And they made sure he never forgot it...
____________________________________
First class: Mutation Theory & Applications I.
____________________________________
He found his seat at the back.
The instructor entered.
"Sit. Eyes up."
His voice was sharp. His coat was plated. Hands aglow.
"Today, we're reviewing evolutionary triggers and the principles of staged mutation development."
Kiran tried to ignore the glares. The half-smirks. He opened his notebook. Pen shaking.
Professor Rhys:
"All mutations—regardless of classification—follow the same evolutionary framework. The question is not what your ability is, but how far you can push it."
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Mutation Evolution Framework
Stage 1: Awakened – Dormant power becomes active.
Stage 2: Refined – Ability stabilizes, control increases.
Stage 3: Empowered – Secondary traits may emerge.
Stage 4+: Transcendent/Mythic. Mutation reshapes identity.
Triggers for Evolution
Repetition and focused training
Emotional/physical stress thresholds
Rift proximity
Bio-tech augmentation
Mutation synergy (e.g., how well your body suits your mutation)
Rare catalyst
____________________________________
"Power isn't about flash. It's about depth. A low-rank flame user who understands combustion at a molecular level will destroy a high-ranked pyrokinetic who can't focus."
He said it like truth.
Rhys continued: "I've seen Deviants rise from obscurity and D-tiers take down crowned elites. Your future depends less on your bloodline and more on your ability to evolve without losing control."
Behind him, someone muttered a joke.
"Tell that to an F-rank."
Another scoffed at the idea of a lower-ranked mutant challenging the elite. Several students already had marks of mutation—flickering hands, charged eyes, scaled skin. Most weren't taking notes. Most weren't thinking beyond their statuses. They believed they could rely on them their whole lives.
When class ended, he approached Rhys.
"I wanted to ask about Rank 9. Is it really the ceiling?"
Rhys raised a brow.
"Most don't catch that line."
He crossed his arms.
"The NMA loves limits. Boxes. But power doesn't follow them. There's always more."
"Some barriers," he said quietly, "are there just to keep the weak from dreaming."
Kiran nodded and left.
The cafeteria was louder than he remembered.
Insignias etched into coats. Groups of bloodline families sitting together.
Kiran ordered the basics at the food station. Grain brick. Protein wedge. Rationed greens. The only things he could afford with the ration card he found on his NexBand.
He sat alone, in the back of the cafeteria.
He tapped into the NexBand.
Pulled up combat archives. Rift studies. Mutation growth theories.
He knew he needed strength, he knew he needed a plan. He wasn't gonna sit back and let the world decide his fate once again.
So, he formulated a training schedule that he was going to follow every day to try and jumpstart his mutation.
____________________________________
Training Protocol:
Morning: Conditioning
Afternoon: Reaction drills
Night: Mental resistance
____________________________________
The bell rang.
____________________________________
Class: Rift History & Interstellar Ethics
Instructor: Professor Velora
Room B-5
____________________________________
The room was tiered, ceilings laced with faint starlight projections.
Professor Velora stood tall, hair silver-threaded, irises softly aglow.
"Humanity's rise was not born of power, but understanding."
She tapped through projections:
Rift Emergence Timeline
First Dhaer Contact
Psychological Rift Effects
Birth of Interstellar Law
Then, she said something different:
"We weren't the first to be conquered by the Dhaer. They came from somewhere deeper. Stranger."
Velora continued, detailing treaty-tech, mutation-symbiote interfaces, and the reputation-based structure of galactic law.
"Humanity is not a galactic power. Not yet.
We are a child with a torch in a room full of sleeping giants."
Kiran underlined the quote.
____________________________________
Last class: Physical Dynamics.
____________________________________
Mutation-dampening arena.
Awakened students paired up. One boy grew claws. Another spat smoke.
Kiran was sent to footwork drills. He wasn't able to join in on sparring yet because he hadn't mutated.
He didn't argue. Didn't flinch.
He moved.
Sharp. Measured. Alone.
Once, a group of upper-tier students laughed as he slipped on a turn.
"What else can you expect from a no-name like Kiran."
He said nothing. Just stood, adjusted, and started again.
Later, he caught his reflection in the arena glass.
A boy trying to break the norms of society with no background
__________
4:42 PM.
End of day.
__________
He walked home with sore legs, a pounding skull, and fire in his lungs.
The hierarchy was suffocating. Everywhere.
He knew the truth now: they didn't see him.
But he was resolved to not let it stay that way.
Back in his room, he dropped his bag. Stared at the wall.
Then moved.
Shadowboxing across the floor, each strike controlled and fluid. Elbows tucked, feet shoulder-width apart, he slipped and weaved like it was second nature.
Then lower—crouching, driving forward in practiced wrestling shots. Head low, hands sweeping out, he mimicked takedowns against invisible opponents, over and over again. Until sweat soaked his collar and his arms burned with effort.
He knew if he wanted to survive in this new world, he needed strength.
He didn't know if he would awaken a good mutation. He didn't know if he had the potential to reach the top of this world. But he had resolve.
He wasn't going to waste the second chance he'd been given.
He wouldn't fail, not again.
Before long, it was past midnight. Kiran's limbs ached, and his eyelids hung heavy with exhaustion.
Sleep came quickly, pulled down by fatigue—but somewhere beneath it, resolve still burned.