The city lights of Nova Prime, usually a dazzling spectacle of ambition and progress, felt like a mocking glare to Kellan Thorne. Twenty-two years old, and already a failure in the eyes of everyone who mattered. His "office" for the past three months was a dilapidated warehouse on the industrial outskirts, far from the gleaming towers he had once aspired to conquer.
He was a physics prodigy, a top student until his mentor, Alistair Finch, and partner, Marcus Vance, had framed him for corporate espionage, stealing his foundational research and saddling him with a fabricated debt of $500,000. The seven-day deadline to pay the first emergency installment of $50,000 was rapidly approaching. If he failed, the legal hounds would be loosed, and the first collateral they'd target was his beloved grandmother's small flower shop.
As he hauled the heavy industrial conduit, his fingers brushed against a discarded, oddly shaped piece of metal half-buried in the concrete dust. It looked like junk—a warped alloy shard. He was about to kick it aside when a violent, blinding surge of energy ripped through his hand and directly into his mind.
He stumbled, gasping for air. The metal shard was gone, dissolved into a faint mist that only he seemed to see. A holographic blue interface flared across his vision.
[Apex Optimization System Activated!]
[Host Alignment: Complete. Initial Goal: Survival.]
[Initial Skill Unlocked: Optimal Insight (Level 1) – See the best possible course of action or the greatest flaw (Sub-Optimal Point) in any tangible object or immediate situation.]
Kellan stared at the text. This can't be real. I'm having a breakdown. But the feeling was too vivid, too precise. He cautiously focused his gaze on a nearby, rusting shelf.
[Target: Industrial Shelf. Sub-Optimal Point: Loose primary bolt (4.7mm too wide). Optimal Action: Apply force to secondary beam to trigger structural collapse in 3.2 seconds.]
He tentatively touched the secondary beam. A loud crash confirmed the shelf's complete, time-specific failure.
It's real. It's an algorithm of absolute perfection.
His mind raced. He needed money. Fast. He focused his Insight on his immediate environment, searching for a path to $50,000.
The System quickly dismissed his meager savings and current job. Instead, the blue lines led him across the warehouse floor, settling on the wrist of Ronnie, the warehouse foreman—a man notorious for his loud boasting about his cheap "replica" Rolex Daytona.
[Target: Ronnie's Watch. Sub-Optimal Point: Grossly inaccurate time display. Optimal Insight: Genuine Vintage Rolex Daytona (Subtly damaged during a drunken fight 3 years ago). True Optimal Value: $35,000 - $500,000 USD (depending on restoration).]
Ronnie, sensing Kellan's focus, swaggered over. "What's the matter, kid? Jealous of the big boy toys?"
Kellan looked at the watch, the grime and scratches now fading away to reveal the exquisite, expensive craftsmanship beneath. He had to be quick.
"It's a nice fake, Ronnie," Kellan said, keeping his voice flat. "But that second hand is sticking. It's only worth $50 in parts."
Ronnie's face darkened, believing the supposed prodigy had spotted a flaw in his cheap pride. "Fine! Take the damn thing! I'm tired of it!"
He bought the watch, his hands trembling slightly as he handed over the $50. The vendor grinned, counting the cash. Kellan just clutched the cheap-looking timepiece, a wildfire of possibilities igniting in his chest. He would accept the challenge.