Chapter 1: Awakening
The shrill cry of the alarm shattered the fragile quiet of the pre-dawn apartment. It felt less like a sound and more like a needle drilling straight into his skull, vibrating through the thin plaster walls and the cramped bed that seemed to shrink a little more every night. Atlest groaned, tangled in his threadbare sheets, and swatted blindly at the bedside table. He managed to hit the clock on his third try, silencing it with a dull clunk.
The glowing red digits read 6:30 AM.
Another school day. Another identical link in a chain he could not break.
He dragged himself upright, his limbs heavy and his muscles stiff with a exhaustion that sleep never seemed to fix. In the bathroom mirror, the same tired stranger was waiting for him: messy black hair, dull brown eyes, and oversized glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. The dark circles under his eyes made his thin frame look even more gaunt. He looked average, if not worse. The kind of boy people walked past without a second glance.
Then there was the truth stamped across his very existence: Level 1.
It was an invisible brand, carved straight into his soul. In a world that measured a person's worth strictly by power, Level 1 meant he was at the bottom of the pile. No impressive abilities, no natural talent to build on, and no bright future. It meant a life laid out in advance, filled with hard labour, calloused hands, a aching back, and the faint hope of surviving whatever beasts prowled beyond the city limits.
A deep bitterness coiled in his chest. He hated his reflection, and he hated the life waiting for him. Yet, as he buttoned his faded grey uniform and pulled his fraying tie straight, a small spark stubbornly held on inside him. It was a faint bit of defiance that no one else could see, pushing up like a weed through cracked pavement, whispering that his story was far from over.
The walk to the bus stop was a blur of grey pavement and weary faces. The small apartment he shared with his mother, Stella, sat on the edge of the city, nestled in a district defined by crumbling walls and flickering neon signs. The inner zones, with their gleaming towers and pristine streets, felt like a completely different planet. Down here, the air tasted of exhaust fumes and stale oil. Inequality was not something hidden away; it was built into the very concrete beneath his feet.
Still, Atlest kept his chin up. The straps of his backpack bit into his shoulders, but somehow the weight felt manageable today. That stubborn seed of hope was still there, pulsing quietly like a second heartbeat.
The bus screeched to a halt at the curb, its brakes squealing in protest. The doors hissed open, and a crowd of tired Level 1s and 2s surged forward. Atlest squeezed through the throng of bodies and managed to grab a seat by the window.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Outside, the city shifted in tiers. Off in the distance, the spires of the elite district caught the morning light, shining like polished blades and taunting everyone below. High above it all stood the colossal dome protecting humanity from the wilderness outside. Its surface was etched with murals of legendary heroes, designed to inspire the masses, but to Atlest, it felt like a cruel joke. Every grand picture of valour was just a reminder of how powerless he really was.
Envy twisted in his gut. He wanted an ability. He wanted his name to mean something, to step out of the shadows and stop being invisible. They were foolish thoughts, as distant as the stars, but trying to push them away only made the ache worse. He felt completely helpless, just a leaf swept along by a river he could not control.
Or so he thought.
The jolt hit him without warning. A sudden shock of energy shot straight through his body, rattling his bones. Before he could react, the scene outside the window vanished behind a blinding flash of bright blue light.
The bus bucked violently as an explosion tore through the front end, throwing metal and fire into the cabin. Chaos erupted instantly. People were hurled from their seats, screams filled the air, and blood splattered against the twisted framework.
Through the shattered glass, Atlest saw the impossible.
It was a dragon.
Its obsidian scales gleamed in the firelight, thick as armor plating. Claws as large as curved swords raked across the cracking surface of the city's protective dome. Its eyes burned with a primal, ancient fire. It was a Level 50 behemoth straight out of a nightmare.
When it roared, the entire street shook. The sound vibrated deep in Atlest's chest, threatening to shatter his ribs. The dome buckled above them, splitting wide open, and a wave of fire poured down toward the bus.
Atlest found himself pinned beneath a heavy piece of wreckage. The air rushed out of his lungs, turning his screams into weak gasps. Above him, the dragon opened its mouth, exposing a throat filled with swirling gold fire. Death was staring right down at him.
He closed his eyes and braced for the impact.
Nothing happened.
Slowly, the noise faded. When he opened his eyes, the entire world was frozen.
The stream of fire coming from the dragon's jaws hung motionless in the air, suspended like a painting. Smoke curled upward, locked in place. Surrounding him, passengers were caught mid-scream, frozen as they reached for safety. The deafening noise of the attack had vanished into total silence.
Atlest blinked, his heart hammering against his ribs. His breath misted in the still air. A faint sphere of blue light hovered around his body, humming softly.
Time had stopped.
The realization did not feel like a thought he had come up with on his own. It felt as if the truth had simply been placed into his mind.
He scrambled out from under the debris, stepping carefully through frozen flames and motionless bodies. Up close, the detail was terrifying: the gloss on molten metal, the raw panic on a passenger's face, the sharp edge of the dragon's claw caught halfway through a strike.
The blue sphere around him flickered. He could feel the light growing weak, as if time itself was pressing hard against the boundary, eager to rush back in. Panic setting in, he ran. He did not try to fight or play the hero. He fled like a cornered animal, sprinting through the standstill until the bubble finally broke.
The world crashed back to life behind him. Fire roared, and the bus collapsed into a burning heap of metal. The dragon's roar echoed across the skyline, answered by the sirens of defenders rushing toward the breach.
Atlest did not look back. He scrambled through the rubble, hiding in the alleyways until his breathing leveled out. When he needed to move fast, he used the ability once more, stealing another few seconds of frozen time to put distance between himself and the monster.
By the time he reached his apartment building, his legs were trembling from sheer exhaustion. Stella was waiting right inside the door, her face pale with terror. The moment she saw him, she burst into tears and pulled him into a tight embrace. Atlest buried his face in her shoulder and let himself breathe.
He could not bring himself to speak. He had no way to explain the frozen dragon, the blue light, or the terrifying sight of fire trapped mid-air. All he knew was that the mundane, grey routine of his life had been burned away in an instant.
He was not a hero, and maybe he never would be. But he was no longer powerless.
Something deep inside him had finally woken up, and the world would never be the same again.
(A/N: First chapter of my original, will post a few more later on. Wish me luck!)