The screen flickered again, and I flinched. The capsule hummed, low and insistent, like a beast shifting in its sleep. For a heartbeat, I thought the system would crash entirely. Then the black HUD stabilized. Sleek, minimalistic—but alive. Watching. I could feel it tracing my pulse, anticipating my thoughts.
[Unlocked class…]
[Unlocked talent…]
[Technomancer class (Unique): a highly specialized and versatile class that combines technological mastery with magical and scientific principles. Grants user the ability to manipulate technology, energy, and data.]
[Hacker talent (Unique): an ancient and near-extinct ability. Hackers are the architects of systems, guardians of information, and explorers of the digital frontier.]
My breath caught. Fingers clenched instinctively around the armrests. I knew that interface. Black, raw, unyielding. Codebreaker.
[Class: Technomancer (Unique)]
[Rank: EX]
[Talent: Hacker]
[DA: MAX] [EA: MAX]
[STR: 55] [INT: MAX] [WIL: MAX] [AGI: MAX] [END: MAX] [LCK: 0]
Technomancer. Hacker. EX rank. My pulse thudded in my throat like a drum in a war march.
This wasn't a class anyone had mentioned in orientation. EX? Not even on the charts GAIA handed out. And "Hacker"? That was… familiar. Dangerous. Mine.
Relief hit me first. The kind of relief that makes your chest ache. I'd felt lost since I woke up in this world, a cog in GAIA's machine, a faceless student with a number tattooed into my DNA.
But this—this was me. Me before the algorithm decided who I should be. Me before the world fenced me in.
For a fleeting second, I felt at home.
The black HUD recoiled like it sensed danger, shrinking back instinctively. The familiar dark world of code—the raw, pulsing lines, the digital architecture that had felt like home—slipped away, dissolving like smoke in sunlight.
And then reality slammed back.
In its place, the sterile system's capsule interface blossomed: orange light, sharp angles, clean lines, cold and authoritative. Every menu, every progress bar, glowed with the kind of clinical efficiency that made your skin crawl.
I could feel the system's gaze on me, sweeping over every synapse, every flicker of energy under my skin. The capsule hummed softly, the energy crawling across my veins like tiny mechanical spiders.
The analysis continued, meticulous and unrelenting, scanning my awakened potential down to the smallest quantum fluctuation.
Progress bars ticked upward—EA… DA… STR… INT…—but then, abruptly, the numbers froze. The hum of the capsule stopped buzzing.
The system paused, as if it had hit a wall it didn't know how to cross. I was left staring at the blanking bars, the cold hum of silence settling in my ears.
And then the voice came, flat, mechanical, and heavy with implication:
"Analysis complete. Unique class detected. Due to insufficient data, this class has been flagged for provisional monitoring."
Provisional monitoring?
The words fell like icy stones into my stomach. Relief curdled into dread. This wasn't routine. This wasn't standard. My heartbeat quickened.
GAIA didn't tolerate anomalies.
The HUD flickered. The sterile white-blue of GAIA's interface wavered, like ice cracking underfoot. Then, without warning, the black digital fog I knew too well—the pulse of Codebreaker—spilled over my vision.
Numbers, symbols, and streams of code twisted around me, folding reality into something raw, something alive. My body tingled, my mind sharpened. And then I saw it.
A warning blinked in crimson, jagged and urgent:
CLOAKING INITIALIZED. TRUE POTENTIAL MASKED.
I froze. The system—I, technically—was hiding. Every skill, every hidden rank, every thread of power I'd yet to weave into the world: invisible. Shunted behind a veil of false mediocrity.
And for the first time, I understood: I wasn't just an anomaly. I was a shadow operating on a system that didn't even know shadows could exist.
The crimson warning blinked once more, then vanished.
Codebreaker… had withdrawn.
I forced myself to breathe, slow and deliberate. But the fear lingered, crawling across my ribs. The weight of it pressed me flat against the capsule's cold metal.
Then, as if mocking my panic, GAIA's interface flickered into existence. Corporate, sterile, cold. The capsule's systems interface vanished, replaced by the trademark white-blue efficiency of GAIA.
[Verification complete. Surveillance status downgraded. Current risk level: minimal.]
Relief hit first. Then suspicion. Too easy. Too neat. GAIA never acted without motive. Either it didn't know what to do with me—or it was underestimating me.
Either way, I wasn't convinced.
The screen shifted again. Official GAIA bureaucracy. Calm, mechanical.
[Registering your class and rank with GAIA Talent Bureau…]
Numbers shifted on the display like sand in a storm. My real stats, hidden beneath Codebreaker, blinked out. Replaced with:
Noah Adler
[Class: Technomancer (Unique)]
[Rank: D]
[Talent: Technical Specialist (Combat/Support)]
[DA: 43] [EA: 60]
[STR: 55] [INT: 77] [WIL: 72] [AGI: 42] [END: 58] [LCK: 0]
D-rank. Technical Specialist.
I stared, frozen.
Where's my Hacker talent?
This wasn't me. Not even close. The Codebreaker interface had shown me my true potential, my self before GAIA tried to box it in. EX rank. Hacker. Maximum everything.
Now? A D rank tech support guy in GAIA's eyes.
The words were simple, but the implication roared: GAIA cannot see me. Others cannot see me. Not yet.
What does Codebreaker want from me? How do I even activate it? Does it function like GAIA's HUD, or… something else entirely?
I paused, letting the question coil in my mind. Slowly, deliberately, I considered testing it—reaching out, trying to awaken it again.
Before I could ponder further, the black HUD pulsed back:
[CODEBREAKER MODE ACTIVATED.]
Energy surged through me, unnatural and electric. The capsule and the world around me shifted. Lines of code appeared, draping over walls, windows, even the air itself, like the city's skeleton laid bare in binary. Reality peeled back, revealing the machinery beneath.
Fingers shot out, brushing the air. Menus appeared. Options I didn't know how to describe, data I could feel more than see. GAIA's presence was everywhere—visible now, raw, untamed.
And then, GAIA, the system screamed:
[ALERT: Unsecured System Access Detected.]
[WARNING: Unauthorized User Activity. Response Imminent.]
The thrill of power twisted into panic. GAIA had seen me.
I yanked my hand away. Codebreaker flickered out. Reality snapped back into place. The capsule hummed innocuously, benign again. But the static lingering in my vision was a reminder: eyes everywhere, tracking every flicker of thought.
I was not safe. Not even close.
******
The capsule door hissed. Graham, grinning and oblivious, waved from outside. "Hey! What did you get?"
I forced a shrug, walking toward him. "Technomancer. D-rank. Nothing special." Eyes flicking, scanning for witnesses.
"D-rank?" Graham frowned. "Seriously? And what's that class even supposed to be?"
"Tech specialist with a sprinkle of magic," I muttered, voice casual. Lie. Downplay. Survival.
"Whoa," Graham murmured. "Sounds… awesome. I got Fighter, so… not magic, but hey, I'll take it."
I didn't respond. My mind spun with Codebreaker, GAIA, and the hidden power the system had denied me. Graham didn't need to know—not yet.
We fell into formation with the other students. Laughter and chatter buzzed around me, post-awakening thrill, but I felt detached. Observing. Calculating. Everything digital, everything mapped… except me.
The shuttle ride back was a blur of fluorescent lights and low murmurs. I replayed every flash, every system override. GAIA had seen an anomaly. I was a ghost in its machine, but it knew I existed.
Graham leaned on my shoulder. "We could totally team up, you know? My combat, your… tech magic."
I smiled, weak, carefully neutral. "Sure, Graham. We'll make a killer team."
His enthusiasm was comforting. A tether. But the storm inside me hadn't calmed.
Back in class, I felt the invisible eyes sweep over me. I was D-rank in name, a nobody in GAIA's logs. But I had seen the truth. I had felt the surge.
And I remembered something Codebreaker whispered in the first pulse of activation:
Even gods can be hacked.
For now, that had to be enough.