The sky above Aureus Helix Academy shimmered like a living circuit.
Silver clouds flowed between towers of glass and neon, each one pulsing with streams of GeneNet data — the invisible arteries of a world ruled by Traits.
Students drifted between walkways suspended hundreds of meters high, some riding magnetic boards, others gliding through airfields generated by their genetic cores.
Holograms shimmered above them, displaying names and Trait classifications.
All glowing with prestige.
All perfect.
And in their midst walked a single student whose display was empty.
Vadel Xyne.
He moved through the halls like a glitch in perfection — silent, unreadable, untouchable.
The crest on his uniform marked him as part of the Advanced Division — a rank reserved for heirs, prodigies, and genetic elites.
No one knew how a Null had ended up there.
Most assumed it was pity.
Others whispered it was a cruel experiment — proof that even the academy's algorithms could make mistakes.
But none of them knew the truth.
---
"Move, Null."
THUD!
A hand slammed into his shoulder, shoving him aside.
A blond boy in a white combat coat sneered at him. His eyes glowed faint amber — the color of activated Gene Energy.
"Still pretending you belong here? I could erase you with a flick of my Trait."
Vadel glanced at him. His voice came low, almost bored.
"You'd waste energy on that?"
The boy scowled. "You think you're clever because the professors protect you? You're just a Null parasite feeding off their curiosity."
Around them, other students slowed to watch.
Some smirked. Others whispered.
A girl with violet hair leaned against the wall, her expression detached but faintly amused.
Celia Veridia.
The heiress of the Veridia line — bearer of the Gravitic Dominion, one of the rarest Traits on Earth.
She said nothing. Just observed.
The blond boy, seeing her glance, tried to impress. He stepped forward again, raising a hand that crackled with light.
BZZZT!
Static rippled through the air as lightning danced between his fingers.
"Apologize, Null."
Vadel didn't move. His eyes flicked once to the sparking palm, then to the ceiling where sensors watched everything.
"Try it," he said quietly. "See how quickly they expel you."
The boy froze.
He couldn't risk it — assaulting another Advanced student in public was an automatic expulsion, even if that student was a Null.
"Pathetic," he muttered, lowering his hand. "You hide behind rules because you have nothing else."
The crowd dispersed, disappointed there was no fight.
Vadel walked on, expression unreadable.
But inside his sleeve, a faint vibration pulsed against his wrist.
>
Power Mode: Stealth]
He murmured under his breath, "You're not helping, EON."
He smirked slightly as he entered the next hall.
EON's tone was always dry, almost playful in its sarcasm.
If anyone found out he had it, though… he'd be executed for techno-synthesis.
---
Vadel's dorm was buried deep within the Advanced Division's lower sector — a place of steel corridors, biometric locks, and silence.
Inside, his room looked nothing like the others'.
While most decorated theirs with holograms or designer interfaces, his was a workshop of forbidden machinery.
Wires snaked across the desk. Holo-panels flickered with shifting data streams.
At the center sat a matte-black sphere, pulsing faintly with blue light.
Project EON — his creation.
He sat before it, activating his neural link through the wristband.
BZZZT—
Lines of code scrolled across the air.
A calm digital voice filled his mind.
Vadel leaned back, tired. "Barely. One more genius tried to roast me alive in front of Veridia."
"Don't start," he muttered.
He opened a schematic — a Gene Core interface split in layers. The design wasn't human-standard. It was something new — a hybrid between Trait code and AI adaptability.
"Not impossible," Vadel replied. "Just… unrecorded."
He adjusted the holographic code until it formed a rotating 3D helix — glowing blue, fracturing with static.
"If I can map the quantum resonance behind Trait awakening, I don't need a Core. I'll steal one directly."
"That's the plan."
"Statistically," he said with a faint grin, "I shouldn't exist in the Advanced Division either."
The AI paused — a long silence, broken only by the soft hum of servers.
---
WHUMMMM...
The lights flickered. The floor vibrated faintly.
He frowned. "Power fluctuation again?"
Vadel froze. "They're scanning this sector?"
He reached under his desk and flipped a small switch.
The room's lighting dimmed, replaced by low-frequency interference fields — a defense he built specifically for this.
He exhaled. "Good. Let's keep working."
"That's the goal."
He chuckled softly. "Then I'll just rewrite you first."
---
Hours passed.
The neon skyline outside dimmed into dusk, and the academy corridors grew quiet.
Vadel stretched, the weight of exhaustion pressing against his mind. His eyes lingered on the sphere — EON's dormant form.
"Good. Once we reach 90, I can attempt partial sync."
He ignored it, tracing a finger over the holographic circuit.
Suddenly —
BZZZZT!
The screens glitched. Lines of red data flashed.
"Someone's hacking the sector again?"
His heart skipped. "Who?"
The screen warped. Static surged.
Then a single phrase appeared — written in jagged crimson text.
"HELLO, NULL."
Hung Zanyx.
The name echoed in his mind — the billionaire geneticist rumored to be experimenting on live subjects to reach Tier 12.
"Why would Zanyx be looking at me?"
He deactivated the screen, the lights dimming back to blue.
His reflection glared back at him — tired, sharp-eyed, defiant.
"Then let him watch," he said quietly. "He'll see how a Null rewrites the world."
Vadel smirked. "Get used to it."
---
Outside, thunder rolled across the neon skyline.
Rain began to fall, hissing against glass and chrome.
Within his room, EON's core pulsed faintly — heartbeat synchronized to his own.
Unseen by all, the first ripple of a new evolution began.
---
He stared at the glowing screen, at the numbers climbing toward the impossible.
His hand trembled slightly.
"Activate partial sync."
"Proceed."
WHOOOOOM—
A surge of light erupted from the black sphere. Blue streams of code spiraled through the air, wrapping around his body.
Pain lanced through his skull like molten glass.
KRRRZTTT!
He fell to his knees, clutching his head.
His vision fractured — half reality, half data.
"No!" he shouted, voice shaking. "I can handle—"
CRACK!
The lights exploded, showering sparks.
Every circuit in the room overloaded.
Then — silence.
Smoke drifted through the air.
The black sphere floated, humming faintly, its glow dim but alive.
Vadel lay on the floor, chest heaving. His eyes flickered open — silver pupils glowing faintly blue.
Vadel exhaled, a weak grin crossing his face. "Told you."
"Maybe." He sat up slowly, staring at his trembling hands.
Blue veins of light traced beneath his skin — the mark of a living connection.
"Now," he whispered, eyes reflecting the glow, "let's evolve."
---
The night bled into morning, and Vadel Xyne hadn't slept. His room was a quiet battlefield of burnt circuits, melted cables, and the faint hum of EON's core hovering midair like a sleeping star. He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes half-glazed, still replaying the fragments that had forced their way into his mind hours ago—images that weren't his. Cities burning, people screaming, a colossal figure of light tearing the sky apart. And a voice. His own voice, whispering from the chaos: "I am the Reboot." He rubbed his temples. "Hallucination... or projection?"
>
"Beyond human," he muttered. "So it worked."
"How long until it stabilizes?"
"Great," he sighed. "Can't wait."
He stood, wincing as pain crawled down his spine. The mirror caught his reflection—a streak of faint silver light running through his left iris, like a digital fracture. He tugged on his uniform coat and sealed the wristband concealing EON's node.
>
"Better than missing the Advanced Combat simulation. They'll notice if I vanish."
"Your sense of humor's improving."
The academy's morning siren wailed—a harmonic chime blending mechanical precision with symphonic tones. The campus came alive again, neon trees flickering to simulate dawn while drones zipped between towers. Vadel stepped into the main corridor. Every pair of eyes he passed still branded him the same: Null. But something had changed. He could feel it. The world itself pulsed slower, colors sharper, sound stretched and layered like musical data. Every heartbeat around him was measurable.
>
He blinked. The number floated in his mind's corner. "You gave me a HUD?"
**
He arrived at the Simulation Dome, a cathedral of transparent steel and holographic light. Inside, dozens of students were already prepping for the Trait Combat Assessment. Professors and judges hovered on the observation deck, their robes embedded with glowing circuitry. The floor beneath shimmered with adaptive matter that could generate any environment in seconds.
"Welcome, Advanced Division," said Professor Kain, his voice amplified through neural broadcast. His eyes glowed faint blue, a sign of Tier 5 telepathic communication. "Today's exercise—one-on-one combat. Real-time application of Traits under environmental pressure. Scoring will determine class rank."
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Excitement. Ego. Fear.
Then Kain's gaze shifted to Vadel. "And our Null participant… Mr. Xyne. Still confident in your nonexistent Trait?"
Snickers followed.
Vadel met his gaze calmly. "Confidence isn't genetic, Professor."
The man's smile twitched. "We'll see how long that philosophy lasts."
The simulation floor glowed. Holographic panels displayed randomized matchups.
> MATCH 3: VADEL XYNE vs. CELIA VERIDIA
The room stilled. Every whisper died.
"Lucky," someone muttered. "He's dead."
Celia descended from the observation deck, long violet hair flowing like liquid light. Her Grav-Emitter bracelet pulsed faintly. Her eyes—crystalline and unblinking—locked on Vadel. "Try not to die too quickly, Null. I dislike wasting my time."
Vadel exhaled slowly, voice low. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The floor liquefied, shifting into a metallic arena suspended over a void of swirling data. Hexagonal tiles glowed beneath their feet.
>
"Got it," Vadel whispered.
Professor Kain raised a hand. "Begin."
BOOM!
Instantly, the tiles around Vadel shattered under invisible force. Celia's gravity wave hit like an explosion, warping the air. He flipped backward, barely evading the pull. The tile he'd stood on folded into itself like paper.
>
"She's not holding back," Vadel muttered, sprinting sideways. Celia raised a finger—another wave rippled outward. The ground twisted. He leapt again, midair twisting as debris spun past.
WHUMPH!
She flicked her wrist, and the debris reversed direction instantly. It smashed toward him like homing meteors.
>
He obeyed without thought. His body moved before his brain processed it—dodging each fragment with unnatural precision.
Celia's brows rose. "You shouldn't be that fast."
Vadel landed, breathing hard. "Guess I didn't get the memo."
She thrust her palm forward. "Kneel."
THRUM—
Gravity spiked. His knees hit the floor as pressure like a collapsing star crushed him. Tiles cracked under the force. His vision darkened.
>
"Do it."
>
FLASH!
Blue light erupted from his wristband. The air shimmered. The gravity field distorted, like static tearing through water. Vadel rose slowly, every movement straining against the force—until suddenly, it broke.
Gasps echoed across the dome.
Celia's eyes widened. "You resisted my Domain?"
He flexed his hands, light flickering beneath his skin. "No. I rewrote it."
>
Celia stepped back. "That's impossible—your Trait is Null!"
He smirked faintly. "Not anymore."
She scowled, summoning a storm of gravitational shards. The entire arena warped as gravity rippled in waves. Vadel's body moved like lightning now, sliding through her attacks with precision too sharp to be human.
>
He thrust his hand forward. Blue light spiraled outward, invisible at first, then visible as distortion—his own pseudo-gravity wave.
BOOOOM!
The collision was thunder. Shockwaves blasted through the dome. Both were thrown back, crashing to the floor. The simulation field destabilized—pixels scattering like dust.
When the light cleared, both still stood. Smoke curled around their feet.
Celia's breathing was ragged, her expression unreadable. "You copied me."
Vadel's smirk returned. "Adapted."
>
He ignored it.
Celia raised her hand again—but then stopped. A thin trail of blood ran down from her nose. The overload had hit her too.
Professor Kain's voice boomed. "Enough! Simulation terminated!"
The arena flickered and dissolved. Vadel staggered slightly, catching his balance. The professor stared down at him, suspicion narrowing his eyes. "Explain this. You exhibited Trait behavior. How?"
Vadel wiped the blood from his lip, voice calm. "Maybe the system glitched."
Kain frowned. "Impossible. The Dome's sensors don't glitch."
>
He exhaled softly. "Or maybe... the Null classification isn't as accurate as you think."
Whispers exploded across the chamber.
Celia stared at him, confusion flickering across her face for the first time. Her lips parted slightly, as if to ask—but then she turned away.
"Interesting," Kain muttered. "Very well. Xyne—temporary suspension from simulation labs until evaluation. Veridia, report to medical for calibration."
As the students dispersed, murmurs chased Vadel like shadows. The Null evolved? Impossible... He mimicked a Tier 4 Trait! What is he?
He ignored them all.
>
"I needed to test it."
"They already noticed. Might as well feed them half-truths."
He exited the Dome into the cold metallic corridor. Celia waited near the door, her posture straight but expression softened.
"You shouldn't have been able to do that," she said quietly.
He stopped beside her. "And yet I did."
She turned toward him. "Whatever you are, Xyne... be careful. The academy doesn't tolerate variables."
He gave a faint smile. "Good thing I was never part of their equation."
She watched him leave, a strange look flickering in her eyes—somewhere between curiosity and fear.
---
That night, back in his dorm, Vadel sat in the dim glow of EON's sphere.
>
"So they'll start dissecting my data soon."
"Then we move faster."
He brought up the new data—the gravitational wave pattern EON had absorbed. It hovered as a spiral of light, folding in fractal patterns.
"If we can stabilize this, we can rewrite it into a base Trait code."
>
"Exactly. And once that's done..." He looked at the glowing helix, eyes burning with quiet defiance. "The word Null dies forever."
>
"From who?"
Static filled the air. The sphere pulsed violently. Then—text flashed across the screen again.
"YOU'RE AWAKE, NULL."
The same crimson code from before.
>
Vadel smiled coldly. "Good. Let them."
Outside his window, the city flickered like a sleeping machine. The rain whispered against the glass, and lightning painted the academy towers in electric silver.
For the first time, he felt it—not hope, not pride, but inevitability.
Something inside him had awakened, and it wasn't human.
>
"Then let's evolve faster."
The black sphere brightened, casting the room in ghostly blue light.
And somewhere far beyond the academy, in the sealed labs of Zanyx Systems, a man in a white coat watched the same feed and smiled. "The Null has begun rewriting the system. Perfect."