The night after the registry felt longer than any Kaelen had lived through. The city outside his window pulsed with its usual rhythm, hover‑trams gliding between towers, the hum of currents, the faint shimmer of the upper tiers , but everything felt distant, like he was watching from behind glass. His hands still trembled faintly from the scan, from the words that had echoed through the chamber like a verdict: Unique Class. S‑Grade.
He'd thought he understood what power meant. The System had trained him, reshaped him, forced him to confront his limits. But this ... this was something else. It wasn't just strength or skill. It was exposure. The kind that drew eyes, questions, and expectations he wasn't ready for.
Lira had fallen asleep on the couch hours ago, boots still on, jacket half‑slipped from her shoulder. She'd refused to leave after hearing what happened, saying she'd "stand guard" in case the registry changed its mind and sent someone to "collect" him. He hadn't argued. The quiet presence helped.
Kaelen sat at his workbench, staring at the faint holographic glow of the System's interface. It hovered patiently, silent except for a single new line pulsing at the bottom of the display.
[Mission Assigned: Accept an y Academy Offer]
[Reward: +500xp|5 Stat Points|Unlock skill->Temporal lock]
No explanation. No timer. Just the directive.
He leaned back, exhaling. "You're not even pretending to give me a choice, are you?"
The System didn't respond. It never did when he wanted it to.
...
By morning, the workshop smelled of solder and stale tea. Lira stirred awake, blinking blearily. "You didn't sleep."
Kaelen shook his head. "Didn't feel like it."
She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "You look like you've been thinking yourself into a hole."
"Maybe I have."
"Then climb out of it," she said, stretching. "You've got people waiting to throw offers at you, remember?"
He grimaced. "That's what I'm afraid of."
Lira grinned faintly. "You're the first person I've met who treats being courted by the most powerful institutions in the city like a punishment."
"It feels like one."
"Then make it less of one," she said simply. "Pick the path that lets you breathe."
He looked at her , really looked , and saw the exhaustion behind her teasing. She'd been with him through everything: the explosion, the recovery, through a lot before this and now, when the world suddenly wanted a piece of him, she was still here, steady as ever.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
She shrugged. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to survive the recruiters."
...
They came before noon.
The first to arrive was Aris Vale from Veyra Academy ... the woman in the crimson coat. She stepped into the workshop like she owned the air itself, her presence sharp and composed. Behind her, two aides carried sleek holo‑cases bearing the Academy's sigil.
"Kaelen Burn," she greeted, voice smooth. "I trust you've had time to process yesterday's results."
"Trying to," he said.
"Good. Then let's not waste time." She gestured, and one of her aides activated a projection, a rotating emblem of the Academy surrounded by streams of data. "Veyra Academy offers full sponsorship for Unique‑Class candidates. You'll receive private quarters, unrestricted access to the aetheric archives, and a mentor from the Temporal and Space Division. In exchange, you'll commit to three years of service post‑graduation."
Kaelen listened, expression neutral. "Service doing what?"
"Research, defense, or instruction , your choice. Veyra values autonomy."
Lira, leaning against the wall, raised an eyebrow. "That's a nice way of saying indentured scholar."
Aris smiled politely. "We prefer partnered graduate."
Kaelen almost smiled. "I'll think about it."
"I expected as much." She handed him a slim data‑chip. "My contact information. The offer stands until the end of the week."
When she left, the workshop felt colder.
The next visitor wore black ... the insignia of the Guardian Corps gleaming on his shoulder. He introduced himself as Captain Rheis, his voice clipped and direct.
"We don't make promises," he said, setting a small holo‑badge on the table. "We make commitments. You'd train under the Corps' elite division. Protection, combat mastery, and authority to operate beyond the city's lower tiers. You'd be part of something that keeps the world from tearing itself apart."
Kaelen studied him. "And what do you want in return?"
"Loyalty," Rheis said simply. "And results."
Lira crossed her arms. "Sounds like a cage with better lighting."
Rheis didn't flinch. "Freedom without discipline is chaos. You'd do well to remember that."
Kaelen nodded slowly. "I'll remember."
When the captain left, Lira muttered, "I liked the first one better. At least she smiled."
By evening, the third offer arrived ... a representative from the Aetheric Research Division (ARD). He was younger than the others, his coat lined with faint circuitry that pulsed as he moved.
"Kaelen Burn," he said, his tone almost reverent. "Spatial‑temporal manipulation is the frontier of modern aetherics. We can help you understand what you are , not just use it. You'd have access to our labs, our archives, our best minds."
Kaelen frowned. "And what would you do with that understanding?"
"Advance humanity," the man said, too quickly. Then, softer, "And maybe save it."
Lira snorted. "You people always say that before breaking something."
The researcher ignored her. "You wouldn't be a soldier or a student. You'd be a pioneer."
Kaelen hesitated. "And if I say no?"
"Then someone else will study you anyway," the man said, almost apologetically. "Better to be part of the process than the subject of it."
"Is that you threatening me?"
"Does it sound like one?" He chuckled
When he left, silence filled the room again.
...
Night fell. The city lights bled through the window, painting the walls in shifting blues and golds. Kaelen sat on the floor, back against the workbench, head resting on his knees. Lira sat beside him, quiet for once.
"So," she said finally. "Three doors. Which one are you walking through?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "They all want something. They all sound like traps."
"Then pick the one that feels least like one."
He looked at her. "You'd go to Veyra, wouldn't you?"
She shrugged. "Probably. It's the only place that still pretends to believe in people."
He smiled faintly. "Pretends?"
"Hope's a kind of pretending," she said. "But it's better than fear."
He thought about that , about the way Aris Vale had looked at him, not as a weapon or a specimen, but as a possibility. The Corps wanted control. The Division wanted data. Veyra, at least, wanted understanding.
"I think I already know," he said quietly.
Lira nudged him. "Then say it."
Kaelen has come to his decision and knows what he wants. He would use them as they use him, but he won't be a subject to their games.
He exhaled. "Veyra Academy."
The System's interface shimmered to life before him, as if it had been waiting for the words.
[Mission Complete: Accept an Academy Offer]
[Reward: +500 XP | +5 Stat Points | New Skill Unlocked –>Temporal Lock]
The glow faded, leaving only the faint hum of energy in his chest. He felt it , a subtle shift, like the world had slowed by half a heartbeat. The air around him thickened, then eased. Time itself seemed to breathe with him.
Lira blinked. "What's wrong?"
He smiled faintly. "A reward."
"From your invisible friend?" She said sarcastically.
"Something like that."
She studied him. "You're glowing."
He laughed softly. "I think that's just the light."
But it wasn't. He could feel the new skill pulsing at the edge of his awareness; a thread of stillness woven through motion. Temporal Lock. The name alone carried weight. He didn't need to test it to know what it meant: control, not of space this time, but of time itself.
...
The next morning, Aris Vale returned. She didn't look surprised when he told her his decision.
"I thought you might," she said, smiling. "Veyra has a way of attracting those who question before they act."
"Or those who don't fit anywhere else," Kaelen said.
"Sometimes that's the same thing."
She handed him a small silver band etched with faint runes. "Your provisional insignia. It grants access to the Academy's lower campus and identifies you as a candidate under sponsorship."
He turned it over in his hand. "Feels heavy."
"It should," she said. "It's a promise."
Lira watched from the doorway, arms crossed. "You're really doing this."
Kaelen nodded. "Yeah."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"You've decided?"
"Yeah."
Aris raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"
"Lira Venn," she said. "Mechanic. Engineer. Occasional bad influence."
Aris smiled. "We have room for you. If you can pass the entrance practical, that is."
Lira grinned. "Then I guess I'd better start training."
They left the workshop at dawn. The city stretched before them , tiers of steel and glass rising into the pale light. The upper levels shimmered like a promise, the lower ones smoldered like memory. Kaelen felt both pull at him.
As they walked, he glanced at Lira. "You don't have to force yourself to come."
"I know," she said. "But you'd just get lost without me."
He smiled. "Probably."
The tram to Veyra Academy was nearly empty. Through the window, the city blurred into streaks of silver and blue. Kaelen watched the horizon shift, the Academy's spires growing larger with each passing minute.
He thought about his mother ... how she'd looked at him after the scan, equal parts pride and worry. He'd left her a note before leaving, promising to visit once he was settled. He hoped she'd understand.
The tram slowed, gliding into the upper‑tier station. The Academy loomed ahead , a vast complex of glass bridges and floating platforms, its towers threaded with streams of aetheric light. It looked less like a school and more like a living organism, pulsing with energy.
Lira whistled. "Guess this is it."
Kaelen nodded. "Yeah."
They stepped onto the platform. The air was cooler here, cleaner. Students in tailored uniforms moved with quiet purpose, their badges glinting in the morning light. Aris Vale waited near the entrance, her crimson coat unmistakable.
"Welcome to Veyra Academy," she said. "Your evaluation begins tomorrow. Today, you'll be assigned quarters and orientation."
Kaelen nodded, trying to steady his breathing. The hum of the System was faint now, content. For the first time in weeks, it didn't feel like a command, just presence.
Lira elbowed him lightly. "You look like you're about to faint."
"I'm fine," he said, though his voice betrayed him.
"Sure you are."
Aris smiled. "Nerves are good. They mean you care."
Kaelen looked up at the Academy's towering gates, the light refracting through the aetheric tubes above. He felt small, but not powerless. The path ahead was uncertain, but it was his.
That night, in his assigned dormitory overlooking the city, Kaelen sat by the window, the System's interface hovering quietly before him. He opened it, watching the familiar lines of data unfold.
[Host Status]
[Name: Kaelen Burn]
[Class: Chrononaut ]
[Race: Human]
[Title:None]
[Energy Level:
[Classification:
[Ability Grade:
[Base Level: 4 <500 / 700 XP>]
[System Level: 3 <200 / 900 XP>]
[HP: 50/50]
[A.E.: 70/70]
Stats
Strength 12 | Stamina 15 | Perception 14 | Defense 11 | Agility 13 | Vitality 11 | Intelligence 15
Stat Points: 155
Abilities
Time Authority — Tier 1 Lv. 1
Spatial Authority — Tier 1 Lv. 1
Active Skills
Flash Step Lv. 1 | Spatial Lock Lv. 1 | Spatial Warp Lv. 1 | Temporal Drag Lv. 1 | Temporal Lock Lv. 1
Passive Skills
Chrono‑Perception Lv. 1 | Spatial Awareness Lv. 1 | Analytical Scan Lv. 1
[Daily Mission]
Objective: 10 Push‑Ups | 1 Mile Run | 10 Pull‑Ups
Reward: +30 XP (Base and System) | +1 Stat Point
Penalty for Failure: Stat Reduction (‑1 Random Stat) | System Instability +5%
Kaelen closed the interface, the glow fading into the dark. Outside, the Academy's lights shimmered like constellations suspended in glass. He felt the weight of what he'd chosen, and, for the first time, the faint thrill of what might come next.
He whispered into the quiet, "Alright, then. Let's see where this goes."