The early morning haze hung over Osaka like a heavy curtain.
The usual city hum — cars, bikes, morning chatter — had long since been replaced by silence, punctuated only by distant cries and the occasional gunshot.
Liam stood on the rooftop of a six-story building, crouched behind an old satellite dish, a small solar-powered radio buzzing beside him. Its screen flickered weakly, but the audio was clear.
A calm female voice spoke in Japanese, then shifted to English:
> "...Effective immediately, the United Global Alliance has issued standard classification guidelines for ARC Users and mutated threats. These power-level rankings are now recognized worldwide."
The radio beeped as the categories were read aloud.
---
ARC User Rankings:
Rank F: Minor physical enhancement. No special ability.
Rank E: Enhanced physique, limited ARC manipulation.
Rank D: Controlled ability usage. Localized elemental or physical manifestation.
Rank C: Tactical ability. Area-effect or specialized function.
Rank B: High-threat. Battlefield impact, adaptable powers.
Rank A: Nation-level threat potential. Rare, often unstable.
Rank S: Unknown capabilities. Extremely rare. Top priority for observation and recruitment.
---
Creature Classification:
Category 1 (Low Threat): Small-scale mutation. Often animalistic. Basic aggression.
Category 2 (Moderate Threat): Enhanced resilience. Physical weapons ineffective.
Category 3 (High Threat): Elemental mutation, regenerative ability, or intelligence.
Category 4 (Extreme Threat): Unique traits. Mass casualty risk. Requires multiple ARC Users to neutralize.
Category 5 (Cataclysmic): Unkillable by conventional means. Surrounds a crack zone. Detected only in major anomaly areas.
---
Liam sat back, eyebrows furrowed as the wind tousled his hair. He absently flexed his right hand, the veins faintly glowing when he focused.
He'd already tested his strength — lifting steel beams, shattering concrete with focused punches. He could hurl a sharpened rod with pinpoint accuracy, sense movement within a dozen meters, and his reflexes bordered on unnatural.
His body could channel ARC energy like a battery. When he focused it into his limbs, they strengthened. Into his eyes — clarity. Into his ears — awareness.
But… no fire, no ice, no lightning.
Just power — raw, condensed, and flexible.
Rank E?
Maybe.
Rank D?
If his control improved — yes.
But that wasn't what worried him.
It was the urge. That boiling pressure when he fought — when he killed. The addictive surge of ARC energy after each battle.
He wasn't just growing stronger — he was changing.
---
Streets of Osaka – Trouble Ahead
Later that day, with his two modified steel rods strapped behind him, Liam made his way through a shattered commercial street. Shuttered shops lined the sidewalks, most already looted. Glass crunched underfoot.
He paused as a sound reached him — distant shouting.
He crouched, moved toward the source.
A narrow alleyway opened into a small plaza — once a park, now a war zone.
There, a lone police officer lay on the ground, bleeding, clutching a shattered baton. Beside him, a teenage boy no older than fifteen cowered behind a broken vending machine, clutching a pipe.
Three figures circled them — no longer fully human.
Their skin was darkened and shiny, like hardened chitin. Their spines arched, and arms twitched with unnatural speed. One had mandible-like protrusions twitching from his face. Their eyes glowed a pale green.
Mutated humans.
Cockroach traits.
Twisted. Wrong.
And they weren't just mutated — they were intelligent, communicating with clicks and body movements.
Liam's grip on his steel rods tightened.
He could retreat.
He could leave them.
He could—
A screech from one of the cockroach-men broke the hesitation. One lunged.
The boy screamed.
Liam moved.
---
Close Combat – Controlled Chaos
He sprinted into the plaza, drawing both rods mid-run. With a focused breath, he directed ARC energy into his legs and arms.
Time slowed.
The first cockroach-man barely had time to turn.
CLANG!
A sharpened rod struck its shoulder, cracking the chitin and sending it tumbling.
Liam spun, ducked a claw swipe from the second, then slammed both rods into its abdomen. The creature hissed, staggered — but didn't fall.
Fast. Durable.
He liked it.
The third attacker launched at him from the side. Liam barely twisted aside, taking a glancing hit that tore part of his jacket.
He retaliated with a brutal downward strike — CRACK — straight into its skull.
It crumpled.
The other two circled again, more cautiously.
He focused ARC into his core — centered, calm — then struck.
One rod jabbed through a joint in the creature's arm, piercing deep.
A twist. A snap.
The creature screeched and fell.
The final cockroach-man fled — vanishing into a sewer grate with a shriek.
Liam stood over the bodies, breathing hard. His body tingled. His vision sharpened.
The ARC was pulsing inside him. Reacting. Surging.
He was close — again.
---
Aftermath
The teen stared at him in awe. The policeman groaned weakly, trying to sit up.
"Y-you're… not military," the teen said, voice trembling.
Liam didn't answer. He just knelt beside the officer and checked his wound.
It was deep — a gash along the ribs. But survivable.
He took out a small pack of antiseptic gauze from his scavenged satchel and pressed it into place.
The man hissed, then nodded in thanks. "You saved us… th-thank you."
Liam didn't say anything. He stood, eyes scanning the rooftops. Watching.
The cockroach-men weren't just mutated. They were coordinated.
That meant evolving intelligence.
And that meant… things were about to get worse.
Much worse.
---