Three years ago
The shift—from a quiet countryside research room to the beating heart of the universe—didn't come gradually. It came as:
"Pack up. We leave tomorrow."
That's all Professor Valentine said once he found a way to fix the bug.
Skyler swallowed hard. Not because he didn't want to go—because the name Cosmic City felt way too big for a small-town kid who used to solder scrap metal circuits in a barn.
"So… we're really heading to Cosmic City?"
"Correct. We leave the next day. Tell your parents tonight."
That word—next day—echoed through him, each beat a countdown in his chest.
"Is it hard… being an Outer there?" he asked, bracing himself.
"Hard." One word. Sharp enough to cut.
Skyler blinked, waiting for a but.
Valentine's lips twitched into a thin smile. "Hard for Outers in general. But for a genius inventor like you? Cosmic City will always make space. Don't worry about who you are. Focus on who you want to be. And make it real."
It wasn't comfort. It was fuel—jet fuel—for the engine of courage inside him.
When Skyler told his parents about the journey of his life, his mom hugged him tight, smiling through warm eyes.
"Go find out who you are. And remember—you'll always be special."
His dad…
"Well, bring home a pretty daughter-in-law while you're at it."
Classic Dad. Killer of vibes since forever.
—
The next day, Skyler sat inside a high-speed capsule beside Professor Valentine. The seat was designed to handle acceleration levels that could launch your lunch into orbit. Ahead of them, the megacity glowed on an impossible scale—neon ads the size of mountains blasting light through the glass.
"Whoa… unreal. It's night and it's this bright? That's insane." He stopped, then asked, "So… where exactly are we staying?"
"I sent Tim ahead to purchase property—land and building both."
Skyler's brows shot up. "We're buying? I thought maybe a short-term rental…"
Valentine smirked. "The future doesn't come with a price tag."
Skyler got it—Professor was loaded. What he didn't get was why the man had to go all in like this.
—
"Greetings, sir. I have completed negotiations with the broker," The household android reported, bowing so low you'd think he'd swallowed an entire book on manners.
"Well done, Tim," Valentine replied, stepping into a narrow alley that used to be a drug strip before the crackdown.
"I secured the best deal… in the best district… exactly as instructed."
"Good. And the price?"
"Three hundred million cerium, sir."
Whatever Skyler was holding crashed to the ground with the weight of gravity tripled.
"Three hundred mil—for this rundown two-story corpse? Some 'best deal,' my ass."
Tim's display flashed a beaming smiley face. Which only made Skyler want to hurl a wrench at his head.
"Professor… can we still cancel?"
Valentine chuckled, the way only a man could when he realized he'd just dropped a fortune on a haunted ruin you'd need an exorcist for before moving in.
—
After that, man and boy (plus one annoyingly cheerful robot) rebuilt the place from scratch. Calling it 'repairs' was generous. 'Demolish and rebirth' was closer. The raw materials? Sheer stubbornness and a budget that ran out in the first month.
It took three years. But they did it.
Not because of money—which had long since evaporated. Because neither of them knew how to quit. The rubble became a three-story building: Valentine and Skyler's quarters on top, and downstairs—a café.
"People still eat organic food these days?" Skyler asked while wiring up the front sign.
"Exactly. Because it doesn't exist," Valentine replied without looking up.
Skyler didn't get it then. Later, it all clicked. The café was the mask. The stage. The real act was underground: a lab spliced into the geothermal grid. That was the only reason Valentine had dropped three hundred million on a wreck no one dared walk past in daylight.
"It's done," Skyler cheered, tossing his wrench into the air.
"Rule number one," Valentine said with a smile that belonged to a man who'd strangle you with jumper cables for leaving tools out of place. "Keep this place spotless."
Every hair on Skyler's arms stood. "Y–Yes, sir!"
"What do we name it?" Valentine asked, wiping grease off his hands.
At that moment, Tim booted up their favorite old sci-fi anime in the background. Valentine and Skyler traded a glance.
In unison: "Cosmic Vision Club."
—
From then on, most of their time bled into trial-and-error, trying to birth the Singularity Gate—an oversized toy ripped from the pages of sci-fi.
But it wouldn't run. No matter what they tried. Skyler checked, re-checked, hunted every circuit like a housemaid with OCD and a flashlight.
"Why? What did we miss?" He collapsed onto the floor.
"Enough for today. Rest. Tomorrow we try again." Valentine's tone was short, final.
Skyler nodded, dragging himself upstairs. His mind was so quiet he could hear the question whispering inside:
What if this is all just the stupid dream of a farm kid—
fighting an enemy he doesn't even understand?
The night before the two girls appeared.
While the city slept, the underground lab beneath a café with zero customers stayed wide awake. Professor Valentine never slept on nights when his thoughts burned too bright—and tonight, they were scorched to the roots.
He was a gravity user with a SeC of 125.8—powerful enough to flatten small cities. Yet he preferred tinkering with tools and gloves, a mechanic at heart.
Tonight… he wasn't wearing gloves.
Valentine stretched out his hand. Power surged into the Singularity Gate. A digital terminal hovered at his side, the numbers crawling upward.
128…
129…
130…
His SeC was 125.8.
And the first law of power was simple: never push past your own limit.
But he did.
The machine shook. A low rumble rose, the sound of a beast clawing its way awake beneath the earth. A blinding flare burst from the gate's core—
—and everything went dark.
—
Skyler jolted awake, drenched in sweat, heart hammering with the raw jolt of a live wire. He bolted downstairs. The chamber was spotless. Too spotless. No sparks. No blast. No glowing alarms. And no professor.
Not unusual. Valentine disappearing without notice had become its own weird routine.
"Out again without saying a word… and leaving the lights on? Seriously?" Skyler muttered, eyeing the Gate as faint vapor leaked from its frame. Then he shrugged it off and turned back—
"Hey, Sky!"
Zoe's voice slammed into his skull, followed by her finger poking his arm over and over until he snapped out of his daze.
He turned—her grin hit him, the kind of leftover dream static that sticks to your eyeballs even after you're awake.
"Wanna try getting this thing to actually work?" She pointed straight at the Singularity Gate.
Skyler glanced at the machine, then back at her—half spooked, half curious. She'd said what he'd just been thinking.
Wait… mind reader? No way. Don't tell me that's her power.
"You… Can you fix it?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"Nope. But she might." Zoe jerked her chin toward Roxy. "Look at her—hasn't blinked once since we got here. Totally secret-agent vibes."
"I heard that." Roxy's tone was flat steel.
"Perfect! Then you can help—" Zoe shoved her forward without shame.
"Impudent child! Who gave you permission to touch me?!" Roxy snapped, shrugging her off.
Naturally, Zoe ignored her and kept pushing.
Roxy turned her cold gaze on Skyler. "Why should I help you? If you wish to play, play among yourselves. I will not involve myself."
Skyler swallowed, voice cracking. "Then at least tell me how you ended up here. Don't say you just—got lost."
"I owe you no explanation."
"But if this thing doesn't work," Zoe cut in, suddenly sharper, "we can't go back. Any of us."
For once, Skyler thought—okay, that actually makes sense.
Roxy gave a low chuckle, as if amused that his head contained more than cotton candy. "Then you tell me what you know first. And perhaps I'll consider."
Skyler started explaining. "The Singularity Gate—think of it as a dimensional portal. That's what spit you two out. I have no idea why it opened by itself, but to run it again, it would need enough power to black out the entire city."
"I already know that." Roxy cut him off. "Get to the point."
Oh, sure. Pretty face, so now you think you've got the right to talk down to me? What—am I supposed to roll over just because you're gorgeous? Skyler bit back the thought.
"I wired it to the geothermal grid, but still… nothing. Until the day you showed up."
"And where does this geothermal energy go?" Roxy pressed.
"Cosmic Tower," he answered, then added quickly, "Tallest building in the city."
"And why is this tower so important? Stop making me guess."
Seriously… is this an interrogation or an oral exam?
He exhaled. "Nexacore Corporation—or just Nexacorp. They own every molecule in this city. Not just Cosmic Tower. I mean all the energy of Cosmic City."
He leaned forward, tone dropping. "Two hundred years ago they discovered Comet Particles. People started being born with powers. And then—boom!" He spread his hands wide. "Faith, funding, media—everything poured in with the unstoppable force of a dam bursting. That's how Cosmic City became the capital of the new world."
Roxy stayed silent, blue from the holoscreen washing over her face.
"And I'm pretty sure," Skyler lowered his voice, "that it wasn't just about the city. There's a black project called Quanigma. I don't know the details, but my gut says something's buried there."
"That's totally a world-domination scheme!" Zoe cut in, eyes sparkling."Like, if they charged a subscription just to breathe, people would actually pay! Am I right?"
…Honestly, yeah. That checks out.
Skyler stared at her, half impressed she'd jumped on his conspiracy rant so hard.
"Then let's gooo~ raid it!" Zoe raised her fist high.
"You even know where it is? How to get in?" Roxy shot back.
Zoe tilted her head. "Nope. But I've got this." She held up a blueprint lit from within.
Skyler's stare bulged. "That—where did you get that!?" He lunged, but she danced away.
"Guess," she teased with a wink.
He squinted at the digital print, the word COSMIC TOWER stamped at the corner with a signature: K.E.
Why does that look familiar…
"Okay! So we break in, grab the big juice, fire up the Slurpee Gate—done!"
"Singularity Gate," Skyler corrected, deadpan.
"Right, right. And the mega-energy's from Quoniggly, yeah?"
"Quanigma." Another correction, sharper this time.
"That's what I said!" Zoe beamed. "Anyway, once the gate opens, we split up. I'll keep time-hopping, 'cause staying here is just—ugh, way too many grumpy faces."
And with that, she actually turned to leave.
"Wait, Zoe! You're just gonna waltz into Cosmic Tower like that? Do you even know which floor the Quanigma lab's on?"
"Details, details. We'll figure it out when we get there."
Impulsive doesn't even begin to cover it…
Then a square-headed figure popped into the doorway—Tim, the house robot.
Zoe's jaw dropped. "OMG, that thing's yours?!" She almost dropped the blueprint.
Skyler seized the chance. "Tim! Perfect timing. Get this girl some food. Maybe give her a tour, too."
"Yes, Master," Tim replied flatly.
Skyler suddenly thanked every deity for the 'Master Mode' he used to mock.
"Whoa, your head's a screen! So slick. Mind if I… disassemble you for parts?" Zoe asked, already reaching for the toolbox.
"Be my guest," Skyler muttered, his gesture pure sushi-chef inviting customers to pick their tuna.
The blueprint hit the floor like a crumpled flyer for a weight-loss seminar. Zoe had her hands on a screwdriver instead.
Good luck, Tim. If you still remember how to detach your arms—now would be the time.