The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the alley behind Block-12 still stank of rust, ozone, and old blood.
Kali Lin sat on the edge of the concrete step outside their apartment cube, boots off, toes numb, watching the neon glow of Sector-3 crawl across the wet pavement. Above him, seventy-five floors of stacked living cells loomed like the ribcage of some dead god.
Inside, the lights were off.
They kept them off when the credit meter ran too low.
His mother's voice drifted through the half-open door.
"Lin Wei… we can't keep doing this."
Kali didn't move.
His father answered quietly. He always answered quietly now.
"I know."
A pause. Then, softer:
"The power bill is due tomorrow. And the school sent another notice for Kali's exam fees. They won't let him sit the mock trials without payment."
Another pause.
"And Lin Tian's medicine…"
The word medicine hit harder than any punch.
Kali's jaw tightened.
He stood, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
Their entire home was twenty square meters: one narrow sleeping platform for his parents, a folding cot for Tian near the wall, a single cooking unit, and a table scarred by decades of use. Pipes rattled behind thin metal panels. The air tasted of recycled oxygen and boiling nutrient paste.
Tian lay on the cot, eyes closed, a faint glow drifting around her fingertips — ambient cosmic energy responding to her natural aptitude even in sleep.
She was thirteen.
Already stronger than both their parents.
Kali crossed the room and brushed her hair back gently. She stirred.
"Brother?"
"Go back to sleep."
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes again.
Kali turned.
His father sat at the table, shoulders hunched, face carved by exhaustion. His mother stood near the sink, hands trembling as she rinsed an empty cup.
They both looked at Kali.
Neither of them spoke.
Because none of them needed to.
Kali inhaled.
"I'll handle the fees."
His mother shook her head. "Kali, don't—"
"I said I'll handle it."
Lin Wei met his son's gaze, shame and pride burning together.
"You already gave the dojo your last credits this month."
"I'll find more."
"How?" his father asked.
Kali didn't answer.
Because the answer was obvious.
The heavy gravity chambers.
The bounty arenas.
The places where boys without contracts went to see how much of themselves they could burn before the system noticed.
He picked up his jacket.
"Don't wait up," Kali said.
Outside, the city roared.
Sky-cruisers sliced the air lanes. Energy grids hummed through megastructures. Screens across every district flashed the same message:
FEDERATION EXAM CYCLE — 90 DAYS REMAINING
Ninety days.
Ninety days to reach Planetary Rank 7.
Or his entire life would collapse into labor quotas and gravity shifts like his parents.
Kali pulled his hood up and started running.
Two hours later, the sky changed.
The wind died.
Every screen across Sector-3 froze.
Then the stars… moved.
Not slowly.
They twisted.
A wound tore open in space above Earth's orbit, swallowing constellations and vomiting light. Thunder without sound rippled through the atmosphere. The ground shuddered as if the planet itself had inhaled.
People screamed.
Kali skidded to a stop in the street, chest heaving, eyes locked on the sky.
From the wound descended something impossible.
A vessel the size of a continent.
Black. Faceted. Burning with alien constellations.
Every satellite died.
Every communication channel went silent.
And in that silence, a voice spoke — not through speakers, but directly into the human nervous system.
"Primitive civilization of Sol. This is Captain Arx'Kai of the Universal Alliance."
Kali dropped to one knee, hands clamped to his head.
Every human on Earth did the same.
"Your world exists within a Dead Zone. Your extinction probability within the next five centuries exceeds ninety-seven percent."
The city screamed again.
"You have been detected by accident. The Alliance offers you one chance."
The sky itself seemed to hold its breath.
"Accept the New Civilization Protocol… or remain as you are and vanish."
Kali's vision blurred.
His family.
Tian.
The exam.
The debt.
The pressure crushing down on his bones.
Above him, the alien vessel burned like a new sun.
And the world of man stepped across the edge of history.