The apartment was quiet, but not silent.
A faint hum ran through the walls, the kind that never really stopped. Old energy lines, barely stable, fed power through a system that had seen better years. Thin strips of embedded lighting traced along the ceiling, dim and slightly uneven, casting a pale glow over the narrow corridor.
The space was small. Two rooms, one shared living area, and a single bathroom tucked at the end of the hall. It was functional, crowded, and lived in.
Jordan didn't linger.
He moved straight toward the bathroom, his steps quick and familiar, guided more by instinct than thought. The door slid open with a soft mechanical hiss, revealing a compact space that balanced between outdated and advanced.
A wall-mounted unit handled water flow and temperature, its interface flickering faintly with worn-out icons. The sink was built into a single molded surface, smooth but scratched in places. Above it, a narrow mirror panel reflected his face back at him, slightly warped at the edges.
Everything worked. Just not perfectly.
He didn't waste time as the routine came naturally.
Toilet. Wash. Rinse…
The water was warm, but inconsistent, shifting slightly in temperature as he splashed his face. He reached for a cloth, drying off quickly before grabbing a slim toothbrush from a small holder. The paste had a faint medicinal smell, sharper than anything he remembered from his previous life.
He brushed in silence, his gaze drifting briefly to his reflection. It was still unfamiliar. But still real.
By the time he stepped out, the lingering haze in his mind had mostly cleared.
Jordan returned to his room and moved with more purpose this time.
He opened the small cabinet and pulled out a set of clothes. They were simple, but well-maintained. A fitted dark-gray underlayer, flexible and slightly textured, designed to regulate temperature. Over it, a plain black outer shirt with reinforced seams and a pair of slim utility pants made from a durable synthetic fabric.
It was nothing flashy. But it was practical. It was common among students from his kind of background.
He dressed quickly, adjusting the collar before reaching for his bag. It was already packed. Another habit from the previous owner of this body.
"Jordan! Are you done yet?" His mother's voice carried through the apartment again.
"I'm coming," he replied, already moving.
He stepped out of the room and into the main area.
The living space doubled as a dining area, with a compact table set near the wall. Storage units were built vertically to save space, their surfaces filled with neatly arranged items. Everything had its place.
And in the middle of it stood his mother.
Jordan's steps slowed slightly.
She was taller than he expected. Around 5'7, with a slender build that carried a quiet strength. Her dark hair was tied back in a simple ponytail, with a few loose strands falling near her face. Her features were refined and naturally beautiful, but there were noticeable traces of fatigue beneath them.
Faint wrinkles had begun to form at the corners of her eyes. They were not from age but from time and responsibility.
She turned slightly at the sound of his footsteps. "Finally. Sit, before it gets cold."
Jordan nodded and took his seat. As he did, fragments of memory surfaced again. Not sharp or overwhelming this time, but steady and clear.
Her figure, moving through a cramped apartment late at night. Her hands, roughened slightly from work. The quiet determination she carried every single day.
Eight years.
That was how long it had been since his father disappeared with no explanation.
Since then, she had held everything together on her own, working at one of the nearby herb plantations. The job was stable, but demanding. Long hours and low pay. Careful work that machines couldn't fully replace. And yet… she never complained.
A plate was set in front of him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Eat first," she said.
Jordan glanced down.
Breakfast was simple, yet inviting. A bowl of nutrient porridge made from processed grain, slightly thick with a faint green tint from added plant extract. Beside it were two slices of pan-seared protein strips, lightly seasoned, along with a boiled egg.
It was basic and affordable. But enough.
He picked up the spoon. "You're not heading out today?"
She shook her head, turning back toward the counter. "Day off."
Jordan paused for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "That's good."
He didn't say more. But he understood what that meant. They would have to go by fewer credits for the week.
He started eating.
The porridge was warm, mildly savory, with a slightly bitter aftertaste from the additives. Not great, but not unpleasant either. The protein strips helped balance it out.
Across the room, his mother moved quietly, already cleaning and organizing.
Jordan finished faster than he expected.
As he set the bowl down, something clicked in his mind.
"…Where's Lina?" The question came naturally.
His mother didn't look up. "She left early. Said she had extra practice."
Jordan nodded. That matched the memories.
Lina Vale.
Fifteen. Quiet. Disciplined.
She was the kind of student that teachers paid attention to. She had already begun to stand out in her school, consistently ranking near the top in both academic and physical evaluations. Where he had stagnated, she had progressed.
Jordan stood up, grabbing his bag.
"I'm heading out."
"Don't be late," his mother replied without turning.
"I won't."
He stepped toward the door, pausing only briefly before opening it.
Then he left.
—
The outside world felt… bigger.
The moment he stepped out of the building, the space opened up around him. Rows of structured housing units stretched along clean, paved pathways. Above them, mid-rise towers rose in orderly lines, their surfaces lined with reflective panels and faint energy conduits.
This was not a slum. But it wasn't wealthy either. Everything here was built for efficiency.
Jordan followed the path instinctively, his steps guided by memory.
This area was known as Greenridge Sector. It was one of several worker districts on Planet Maxwell-12.
The name surfaced easily in his mind.
Maxwell-12.
A resource planet under the control of the Maxwell family. Its primary purpose was plant cultivation. A variety of medicinal herbs, rare plant species, and even low-grade spiritual flora that required careful, manual handling were cultivated on this planet.
Machines could assist. But they couldn't replace the human touch.
That was why places like Greenridge existed. Workers lived here. Generations of them.
Looking up, Jordan saw a few small transport vehicles gliding through designated air lanes, their movement smooth and almost silent. On the ground, automated carts rolled along fixed tracks, carrying supplies that could be heading to different sectors.
Patches of green broke the structure at regular intervals.
They were the mini-cultivation zones that existed within towns.
Rows of carefully maintained plants grew within transparent enclosures, monitored by hovering sensors that emitted faint pulses of light.
Jordan's gaze lingered on them for a moment. Then he kept walking.
The road ahead widened gradually as more students joined the flow.
Different uniforms. Different expressions.
Some walked alone. Others in small groups. But they were all heading in the same direction.
It didn't take long before the school came into view.
"Greenridge Preparatory Institute."
The name was displayed across the front gate in clean, illuminated text.
The campus itself was larger than Jordan expected. Multiple buildings were arranged in a structured layout, connected by open walkways and reinforced paths. Training fields stretched along one side, their surfaces marked with clear boundaries and embedded systems.
Jordan stepped forward, blending into the steady stream of students moving through the entrance.
The atmosphere inside the campus felt different from the outside world. More focused. More structured. Conversations were quieter, more purposeful. Even the flow of people followed an unspoken order.
He followed one of the elevated walkways, his pace neither fast nor slow.
Everything felt familiar and natural, even though he was new to this world.
Students passed him in both directions. Some wore standard uniforms like his. Others had subtle differences in their outfits. Better materials. Cleaner finishes. A few even carried themselves differently, their posture straighter, their presence and aura sharper.
Jordan didn't need to guess who they were.
They were from the genius class.
Students who had already stepped onto the path of genetic cultivation. Quasi-genetic warriors. People who had already crossed the first threshold, while others were still trying to reach it.
His gaze lingered for a brief moment before shifting away.
There was no point in comparing. At least, not yet.
As he continued walking, a faint projection flickered to life above the walkway... ahead. It was a public notice board, cycling through announcements and schedules.
His eyes caught one line almost immediately.
[Unified College Entrance Assessment: 34 Days Remaining]
Jordan's steps slowed slightly.
Thirty-four days. Just over a month. That was all the time left before everything was decided.
His expression didn't change, but his thoughts tightened.
Genetic training… behind.
Psionic potential… nonexistent so far.
Theory classes… average at best.
No.
Even calling it average was being generous.
The previous Jordan had never stood out. Not in academics. Not in training. Not in anything. He wasn't disruptive, but he wasn't active either. He attended classes, completed tasks, and stayed out of trouble.
That was it.
He was the kind of student teachers forgot without realizing it. The kind of person who faded into the background without effort.
Jordan exhaled quietly. "…That's a rough starting point."
He kept walking.
The path ahead split into multiple directions, each leading to different classroom blocks. Jordan's body moved without delay, turning toward one of the standard academic buildings.
This was the common class section. Four classes per level. Standardized curriculum. Standardized expectations.
And then there was the fifth.
The genius class.
It was separate but elevated. It was a place reserved for those who had already proven themselves.
Jordan didn't belong there. At least, not yet.
His gaze lowered slightly as his thoughts shifted.
What was he supposed to do with this situation?
Thirty-four days.
Even if he pushed himself to the limit, catching up through normal means was almost impossible. Genetic cultivation required time, resources, and guidance. Psionic awakening couldn't be forced.
As for theory… Jordan could improve, but not enough to overturn everything. The gap was too large.
For a moment, the pressure settled in.
Then—
A different thought surfaced.
The Starstream System.
Jordan's steps didn't stop, but something in his eyes changed.
The Starstream System hadn't finished binding yet. Roughly eleven hours remained. He could still feel it faintly, like something running in the background, just out of reach.
If it truly connected to the Interstellar Darknet… Then it wasn't something ordinary. Maybe it could change things. Maybe it could give him a path that didn't rely on the same rules everyone else was bound to.
Jordan let out a quiet breath. "…Let's see what you can do."
By the time that thought settled, he had already reached his destination.
Classroom 2-C.
He stopped just outside the door, and for a brief moment, he didn't move.
A thought surfaced, sharper than the rest. Something was wrong.
The previous Jordan had lived a simple, routine, and predictable life. He had no enemies, and nothing about him particularly stood out. And yet… He was gone.
Jordan's eyes narrowed slightly.
He replayed the inherited memories again. The last day. The final moments.
There was nothing. No pain. No incident. No warning.
Just sleep. And then… nothing.
The body remained. But the person inside it had disappeared and had been replaced.
Jordan's fingers tightened slightly around the strap of his bag.
"…That doesn't just happen without reason."
A quiet unease settled at the back of his mind.
If the previous Jordan hadn't died naturally… then something had caused it.
And if something had caused it… Was it still here watching and waiting?
Jordan's gaze darkened for a brief moment. He didn't like unanswered questions. Especially not ones tied to his own survival.
"…I'll have to look into it."
The thought lingered, heavier this time.
But right now, there was nothing he could act on. No clues. No trail. Just a blank space where something should have been.
After a moment, he exhaled quietly and forced his thoughts to settle.
Not now. School came first.
His expression returned to normal as he reached for the door.
The door slid open, and Jordan stepped inside.