I paced in circles, trying to organize my thoughts and figure out what the hell to do next.
Okay. So. I was stuck in this world—with no way back to Earth. Which probably meant that if I died here, that was it. Game over. No respawns. No second chances.
Great.
But... silver lining?
No rent. No soul-sucking jobs. No more counting coins to survive. On Earth, I was broke and invisible. However here, it was a fresh start. Tabula rasa. Day One.
I nodded to myself. "Alright," I muttered. "Let's do this."
Mood slightly restored, I stepped out of the oversized room and started exploring the labyrinth of sterile hallways. Everything looked the same—cold, white, and vaguely creepy. Like someone built a sci-fi bunker and then noped out halfway through decorating.
After about an hour of digging through identical corridors and dust-choked doors, I'd found exactly three rooms that weren't abandoned husks.
The first was a storage unit: canned food, emergency supplies, and—praise be—clothes.
Mostly dull, utilitarian stuff, but I cobbled something together: black leggings, a plain white shirt, and a black tactical vest. Not exactly couture, but whatever. I also tied my hair into a ponytail; it was too long and kept bothering me.
I caught my reflection in a dusty wall panel and struck a pose. "I look like a secret agent," I muttered. "Agent E, reporting for duty—" I coughed. "Ahem. Focus."
...I felt like I was acting more childish than usual.
Anyway, the second room was a research lab. High-tech gear everywhere—monitors, scanners, machines I couldn't name even if you paid me. It felt eerily familiar, like the place I woke up in. Probably where they ran their freaky experiments.
But the third room was the one that really mattered.
It was the operations center.
Rows of monitors lined the walls, each one showing camera feeds from across the facility. In the center, a huge map of the facility pulsed with glowing lines and blinking lights. It looked strangely like a ship, but it can't be right..? It's just too big...
Anyway there he was.
Isaac. Still alive and kicking. Still sitting there like a haunted statue, hunched over a console, staring at screens with all the warmth of a dead fish.
Probably the only other human here.
No wonder he'd gone a little off the rails. At least he finally removed my metal collar—it had been driving me insane.
I spun slowly on a wheeled chair, eyeing the massive layout. This place was enormous. Advanced. Clearly built for something big. So why was it practically empty?
"Hey, Isaac," I called, making slow circles. "Why's this place so huge, but so... dead?"
He glanced over. Irritated, but answered.
"This airship was stolen from the Federation by our boss," he said flatly. "It wasn't in use. Aside from our supplies, it's just a shell."
"...Wait. Ship?"
I blinked, so my guess was correct..? "You're telling me this whole facility can fly?"
"Yes."
"That's insane. But wouldn't you need a crew to run something this size?"
He didn't even blink. "It's a prototype. One person can operate it. The rest is automated. But we don't have the energy reserves to fly far. That's why we hid it. Deep underground, in a cave. Somewhere the Federation wouldn't think to look."
He shrugged, like hiding a stolen warship in a secret mountain base was just a normal Tuesday.
"...Huh."
I had about forty-seven questions.
"Well, your boss must be some kind of genius," I muttered.
"He's your boss too," Isaac said, deadpan.
I raised an eyebrow. Wow. Rude much?
But before I could throw that back, his expression shifted.
Lit up.
"Boss isn't just a genius," he said, eyes sharpening. "He's humanity's future. The one who'll lead us to Ascension. He'll crush the arrogant Ascended Ones and those bastards from the Main World."
I stared. "...The what now?"
He ignored me and just said, "You'll understand eventually."
Before I could press, an alarm blared.
Klaxons screamed. Lights flashed red.
Every monitor blinked, then shifted to a new view—live footage from outside the ship.
And what I saw made my stomach drop.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
A swarm. No—an army. Giant insects, crawling and screeching, their glossy carapaces catching the light. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Closing in.
I turned to Isaac slowly.
"Uh. Please tell me this ship has a defense system?"
His face had gone pale. Like snow. He shook his head. Once. Slowly.
"..."
"..."
"We are so screwed," I muttered. "Craaaap."
***
Meanwhile, somewhere outside...
A well-dressed man stood at the foot of a mountain, frowning thoughtfully.
"Huh... I know we sealed the entrance after stashing the ship. But I'm pretty sure there was a crawlspace around here somewhere..."
He scratched his head.
"...Eh. I have time anyway. They'll be fine."
He turned in the wrong direction.
A "trusted subordinate" had lost his way.
***
Back in the command center, I stared at the screen, willing the bugs to vanish.
"Isaac," I said. "Be honest. Are they strong?"
He exhaled. "Individually, no. They're weak. But in that number... even a dozen destructive-class powerhouses would struggle."
I perked up. "Even someone with my genes?"
Isaac gave me a flat look. "You were literally just born. Your genes are still dormant."
"...Really?"
I thought back to the panel from earlier.
Didn't it say my Chtonian gene was awakened?
System, I thought. How do I use the powers of the Chtonian gene?
A soft chime rang in my head. Then, scrolling text:
[Chtonians are a race similar to humans but with stronger capabilities who use the power of mind materialization and all kinds of psychic powers. As Ascended beings, they hold a certain amount of authority within the system proportional to their level.]
['Mind materialization' allows the user to give a physical envelope to the concepts of one's mind, to spirits, and to souls. It cannot be used without enough 'Mental Fortitude'.]
[Psychic powers are related to the mind of the user and cannot be used without enough 'Mental Fortitude'. Examples: Psychokinesis / Telepathy / Psychometrics... and the like.]
[Notice: the current gene the host possesses is too weak to use 'mind materialization'.]
Then suddenly, just after reading the system's prompts, a surge of information about using these abilities invaded my mind.
Whoa.
Okay. That's nuts.
No wonder Isaac kept calling them 'perfect genes.'
And that's just one of the four gene types I've got? But what does authority within the system even mean?
I felt Isaac watching me.
"Well," I said, "I don't think my Chtonian gene is dormant."
He frowned. "That's not how it—"
Before he could finish, I focused on the chair beneath me.
Lift.
A pressure stirred in my mind. A pulse. Like a muscle flexing behind my eyes.
The chair rose. Gently. Smoothly. Hovering two feet off the ground.
I grinned.
Isaac's jaw dropped.
He just... stared. Mouth open.
For once, I had the upper hand.
And with a giant mutant bug swarm heading straight for us?
I'd take every win I could get.