The hall was silent except for the low hum of the Gene Crystal.
Arin Vale stood at the center of the circular platform, palm pressed against the glowing surface. Blue light crawled across his skin like living veins, scanning bone density, neural conductivity, cellular receptivity.
The entire academy was watching.
Above him, a massive screen flickered as numbers began calculating.
"Come on…" someone whispered from the crowd.
"Even 5% would be impressive for a civilian."
Arin kept his face calm.
Inside, his heart pounded.
This was his only chance.
In this world, everything depended on one number — Genetic Compatibility.
Without compatibility, you couldn't properly absorb Evo-Genes from creatures inside the Primal Realm. Low compatibility meant mutation, rejection, paralysis… or death.
High compatibility meant evolution.
The screen flashed.
Genetic Compatibility: 0.03%
Silence.
Then laughter.
"Zero?!"
"Is that even possible?"
"Did the machine glitch?"
A technician adjusted his glasses, frowning at the data.
"No malfunction," he muttered. "Result confirmed."
Arin slowly removed his hand.
0.03%.
Not even half a percent.
Even children from poor districts averaged 3–5%. Elite hunters from powerful families reached 60% or higher.
Anything below 1% meant you were biologically incompatible with Evo-Genes.
It meant you were meant to stay human.
Ordinary.
Weak.
"Next candidate!" the instructor barked, already dismissing him.
Arin stepped down from the platform.
No one stopped him. No one looked at him twice.
The world had already decided what he was worth.
Outside the academy, the sky was split by a black tear stretching across the clouds.
An Abyss Gate.
It floated silently above the city like a wound in reality.
Ten years ago, when the first Gate opened, people panicked.
Now, it was normal.
Because beyond those gates was the Primal Realm — a world of monsters, ancient forests, ruined civilizations, and creatures that defied physics.
The flesh of those creatures contained Evo-Genes.
Consume them.
Absorb them.
Evolve.
The strong grew stronger.
The weak stayed behind.
Arin stared at the Gate, jaw tight.
"I refuse," he whispered.
He refused to accept a number written by a machine.
That night, the academy corridors were empty.
Arin worked part-time as a storage assistant — organizing outdated gear and broken equipment in the lower levels. It was the only reason they let someone like him stay enrolled.
The basement lights flickered as he carried a crate into the restricted storage section.
He wasn't supposed to enter this far.
But no one came down here anyway.
Dust covered metal shelves. Old experimental weapons sat abandoned. Failed prototypes. Dangerous ideas.
Arin set the crate down — and froze.
Something pulsed in the darkness.
A faint red glow.
From a sealed containment case.
The glass was cracked.
Inside lay a black wristband — smooth, metallic, with strange silver veins etched along its surface.
A faded label clung to the case:
Prototype – DEVOUR System
Status: Terminated Project
Reason: Unstable Host Mortality Rate 97%
Arin's breath slowed.
Unstable.
97% mortality.
He should walk away.
He reached for it.
The moment his fingers brushed the metal—
The wristband snapped onto his arm.
Pain exploded through his nerves.
He staggered back, slamming into a shelf as red light burst from the device.
Symbols flooded his vision.
Ancient. Mechanical. Alive.
A voice echoed directly inside his skull.
[Compatible Host Detected]
[Hidden Parameter Activated]
[Devour Path Initializing…]
Arin screamed as something rewrote itself inside him.
His veins burned.
His heartbeat slowed.
Then—
Silence.
The basement returned to darkness.
The wristband remained on his arm.
Cold.
Dormant.
As if nothing had happened.
Arin collapsed to his knees, breathing hard.
"What… was that…"
A final message blinked faintly in his vision.
[Host Genetic Compatibility: 0.03%]
[Correction Applied]
[Compatibility Rerouted: Adaptive Devour Type]
Adaptive?
What did that mean?
Before he could think further, alarms echoed faintly from above.
A Gate fluctuation warning.
A low-tier Gate on the city's edge had destabilized.
Low-tier meant weak monsters.
Hunters would be deployed by morning.
Arin slowly stood.
His arm felt… different.
Stronger.
Not physically.
But deeper.
Like something inside him was awake.
Two hours later, he stood before the unstable Gate.
Security was light — only drones monitored the perimeter until official hunters arrived.
Arin wasn't authorized to enter.
With 0.03% compatibility, entry was suicide.
He stepped forward anyway.
"If I'm going to be weak," he muttered, "I'd rather die trying."
He slipped past the outer barricade during a drone rotation cycle.
The air near the Gate felt heavy.
Reality distorted like heat waves over asphalt.
Then he stepped through.
The Primal Realm greeted him with silence.
A crimson sky stretched above jagged rock formations. Twisted black trees creaked in a wind that made no sound.
The air smelled metallic.
Arin swallowed.
Fear crept into his spine.
He had no weapon beyond a standard academy blade.
A rustle echoed behind him.
He turned slowly.
A creature emerged from the shadows.
Four-legged.
Sleek.
Black fur that absorbed light.
Eyes glowing silver.
A Shadow Fang Wolf.
Low-tier predator.
Fast. Territorial. Deadly.
Its muscles coiled.
Arin barely raised his blade before it lunged.
The world slowed.
No—
His perception accelerated.
He saw the twitch in its hind leg before it moved.
He shifted instinctively.
The wolf's claws sliced air where his throat had been.
"What—?"
His body reacted before thought formed.
He drove the blade downward.
The wolf twisted midair — too fast.
Its fangs grazed his shoulder.
Pain flared.
Blood hit the ground.
The beast landed and circled.
Arin's heart pounded.
He was losing blood.
He had one chance.
The wolf lunged again.
But this time—
He saw it.
A pattern in its movement.
A micro-delay before it attacked.
His body moved perfectly into the blind spot.
The blade pierced beneath its jaw.
Hot blood splattered across his hands.
The wolf collapsed.
Silence returned.
Arin staggered back, shaking.
"I… won?"
The wound on his shoulder burned.
He looked at the dead beast.
If normal humans consumed this without compatibility, their cells would reject the gene.
Mutation.
Organ failure.
Death.
The wristband pulsed.
A message appeared.
[Devour Option Available]
Arin stared.
"Devour…"
He didn't hesitate.
He tore a piece of flesh from the wolf and swallowed.
Agony detonated through his body.
His vision went white.
Bones cracked.
Nerves screamed.
Then—
Sudden stillness.
The pain vanished.
A cool wave flowed through him.
His wound began closing.
Not fully.
But faster than humanly possible.
A notification appeared:
[Devour Complete]
[Gene Extracted: Shadow Reflex]
[Absorption Rate: 100%]
[No Genetic Rejection Detected]
Arin's breath caught.
One hundred percent?
That was impossible.
No elite hunter had ever reached full absorption.
Another message followed.
[Hidden Skill Unlocked: Gene Fusion]
[You may combine compatible traits.]
Combine?
Not just absorb—
Evolve beyond natural limits?
Arin looked down at his trembling hands.
The fear was gone.
In its place—
Something colder.
Something sharper.
The sky above rumbled faintly.
In the distance, deeper within the Primal Realm, something massive stirred.
As if it had sensed him.
Arin's silver-tinted vision narrowed.
"Good," he whispered.
"For the first time… I'm not the weakest anymore."
The Abyss had opened.
And it had chosen the wrong prey.