The heavy bass of The Aether faded into a dull throb as they exited the VIP lounge. The air in the corridor was cooler, smelling of ozone and damp concrete. Kael walked at the front, his stride purposeful. Morgan followed closely, her eyes scanning the shadows, while Alaric brought up the rear, stowing his needles back into his briefcase with the reverence of a surgeon packing away scalpels.
As they walked, Kael's mind drifted back to the notification that had flashed in his mind during the fusion.
White.
It was a color that shouldn't exist. A grade that was theoretical at best. He needed to understand the scale of what he had just become.
"System," he thought. "Explain the Talent Grading System. Detail the differences between the grades."
SYSTEM DATABASE: TALENT HIERARCHY
Talent is an innate attribute that determines the limit of an individual's growth, mana quality, and skill acquisition speed. It is decided at birth or awakening and cannot be changed under normal circumstances.
Grade 1: Yellow (Common)
Population Distribution: 60%
Limit: Peak F-Rank. Rarely breaks through to E-Rank.
Trait: Low mana sensitivity. Skills cap at Novice level.
Grade 2: Orange (Uncommon)
Population Distribution: 25%
Limit: D-Rank to Early C-Rank.
Trait: Standard mana sensitivity. Becomes the backbone of society (skilled workers, standard soldiers).
Grade 3: Green (Rare)
Population Distribution: 10%
Limit: B-Rank.
Trait: High mana affinity. Can reach Expert skill levels. Usually leads Guild squads or serves as elite officers.
Grade 4: Blue (Epic)
Population Distribution: 4%
Limit: A-Rank.
Trait: Exceptional mana control. Capable of Domain creation. Often leads major Guilds or acts as a city's protector.
Grade 5: Purple (Legendary)
Population Distribution: 0.9%
Limit: S-Rank to SSS-Rank.
Trait: Mana develops unique properties. Can alter local reality. These individuals are National Treasures.
Grade 6: White (Mythic / Origin)
Population Distribution: 0.00001% (Theoretical)Limit: Unknown / Unlimited.
Trait: Infinite Adaptability. The soul acts as a perfect conduit for any energy type. Skills can transcend Master level. Resonates with the fundamental laws of the universe.
Historical Note: No recorded White Talent user has existed in the last 500 years of recorded System history.
Kael absorbed the information. Sixty percent of humanity stops at F-Rank. Even the talented ones—Green, Blue—they hit a wall. A ceiling they can't break.
But for him, there was no ceiling. The wall had been obliterated the moment he broke the Slave Mark.
"System, what was my original talent before the suppression?"
ERROR. DATA UNAVAILABLE.Speculation: Host likely possessed Yellow or Orange grade, suppressed by the [Slave Mark] to appear non-existent. The [White] grade is a result of the Soul Resonance with the Devourer System and the removal of the suppression seals.
Kael smirked. A glitch. A bug that became a feature.
The corridor opened up into a wider service tunnel that led to the industrial elevators. It was a desolate stretch, the lights flickering erratically, casting long, jumping shadows.
It was the perfect place for an ambush.
"Stop."
The voice was rough, synthesized through a voice modulator.
From the shadows ahead, figures emerged. Six of them. They wore a mismatch of scavenged armor—riot gear, monster hide, and crude cybernetics. Their leader was a massive brute of a man, his right arm replaced entirely by a heavy, industrial drill that hummed with a dangerous, rotary whine.
"Quite the parade," the leader leered, stepping forward. He looked at Morgan, his eyes lingering on her expensive clothes. "A high-class milf, an old man with a fancy briefcase, and a pretty boy playing tough."
Alaric sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Really? Now?"
Morgan stepped forward, her face twisting into a sneer. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Morgan Whitmore. If you value your lives, you will step aside."
The bandit leader laughed. It was a harsh, static-filled sound. "Whitmore? Down here? Lady, you're a long way from your tower. Down in the Undercity, the only name that matters is Mangler."
He revved his drill. The sound was deafening in the enclosed space.
"And my name is Mangler. This is a toll booth. The price? The lady. The coat. The briefcase. And the pretty boy's arms. They look... augmented."
The other bandits drew weapons—rusty machetes, pipe guns, and one held a taser baton that sparked with blue electricity.
Kael didn't stop walking.
"I heard your name was Mangler," Kael said, his voice flat. "A fitting name. Because today, you're going to be mangled."
Mangler snarled. "You've got a death wish, kid!"
He lunged with surprising speed for a big man. The drill arm swung in a wide arc, aiming to tear Kael's torso apart.
"Master, watch out!" Morgan cried.
Kael didn't dodge. He didn't blink. He simply continued walking.
[ADAMANTINE CARAPACE]
The drill made contact.
SCREEEEEECH!
The sound of metal grinding against diamond-hard skin screamed through the tunnel. Sparks showered the walls like a pyrotechnic display.
Kael didn't move an inch. His shirt tore under the friction, revealing skin that shimmered with a black, metallic luster.
Mangler's eyes widened. The drill whined, the motor straining, but it couldn't bite. It couldn't even scratch.
"Wh-what the hell?" Mangler stammered, trying to pull back.
Kael stopped. He looked down at the drill pressing against his chest, then up at the bandit.
"Is that it?"
Kael reached up. He grabbed the spinning drill head with his bare hand.
CRUNCH.
[GRAVITY SURGE: FINGER]
He squeezed. The high-grade steel of the drill bit crumpled like wet paper. The motor died with a cough of smoke.
"My drill..." Mangler whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
"You broke the silence," Kael said. "And you touched me with such dirty metal."
Kael twisted his wrist. He ripped the entire cybernetic arm off Mangler's shoulder, tearing wires and hydraulic lines.
"AAAAHHH!" Mangler screamed, stumbling back, clutching the sparking socket.
The other five bandits froze.
"Now," Kael said, tossing the mangled cybernetic arm aside. "Let's test the eyes."
[PRIMORDIAL SIGHT]
The world shifted. The darkness of the tunnel vanished. To Kael, everything became lines of light and mana.
He saw the thermal signatures of the bandits. He saw the structural weaknesses in their armor. He saw the flow of mana in the one holding the taser baton—a D-Rank wannabe mage.
"You," Kael pointed at the taser-wielder. "Your mana core is blocked in your left shoulder. It's why you limp."
The bandit gasped.
"And you," Kael pointed to a woman with a machete. "You have a heart condition. Your pulse is 140. Shouldn't run so much."
"Kill him! KILL HIM!" Mangler screamed from the floor.
The bandits hesitated, terrified by his knowledge.
"I said..." Kael's eyes glowed, one blue, one gold. "Run."
[SINGULARITY DOMAIN: MICRO-BURST]
Kael didn't want to kill them. He wanted to break them.
He created a tiny point of gravity in the air directly in front of the group. It wasn't a black hole—it was a gravity slap.
WHUMP.
The air imploded. A shockwave of force slammed into the five standing bandits. They were yanked off their feet and slammed into the concrete walls with bone-breaking force.
CRACK. THUD.
They slid down the walls, groaning, limbs twisted at wrong angles.
Mangler watched his crew get dismantled in three seconds. He looked up at Kael, who was now standing over him.
"Please..." Mangler whimpered. "I'm sorry... I didn't know..."
Kael crouched down. He placed his hand on Mangler's head.
"You were right about one thing, Mangler. This is a toll booth."
Kael's hand glowed with the Void energy.
"And you're the toll."
[DEVOUR]
It wasn't a full drain. Kael didn't want the trash abilities or the gritty XP of a lowlife. He simply drained the man's stamina. He sucked the vitality right out of him, leaving Mangler a withered, gasping husk on the floor, too weak to lift a finger.
Kael stood up, wiping his hand on his pants. He felt a tiny buzz of energy—insignificant, but refreshing.
He turned to Alaric and Morgan.
Morgan was staring at him, a mixture of fear and awe in her eyes. Alaric, however, was scribbling furiously on his tablet.
"Fascinating," Alaric muttered. "The delivery system is instantaneous. No casting time. The gravity well... it has a specific frequency. You didn't just crush them; you disrupted their equilibrium. Elegant."
"I aim for efficiency," Kael said, stepping over Mangler's body.
"Will he live?" Alaric asked, nudging the withered bandit with his shoe.
"Unfortunately," Kael replied. "Being a cripple in the Undercity is a fate worse than death. He can contemplate his life choices while he begs for scraps."
They continued walking toward the elevator.
"You know," Alaric said, catching up to Kael. "With that level of control... and your new talent grade... you could probably fuse abilities on your own eventually."
"I know," Kael said. "But I pay for quality. You gave me quality. And I keep my word."
They reached the elevator. Kael pressed the call button.
"Where to next?" Morgan asked, her voice steady now, the CEO mask firmly back in place.
"Back to the plane," Kael said.
As the elevator doors opened, Kael looked back one last time at the tunnel. The groans of the broken bandits echoed softly.