The morning sun cast a golden glow over the sprawling towers of Aureus Helix Academy. Sleek spires of steel and glass reached into the clouds, each building humming faintly with the rhythm of countless machines. Drones zipped through the sky, ferrying supplies and scanning for security breaches.
The academy wasn't just a school—it was the pinnacle of human advancement. Only the most gifted were allowed here.
And in a place where every student possessed a unique gene trait, Vadel Xyner was the lone exception.
The crowd gathered at the central training arena, a colossal dome lined with shimmering energy shields. Seats formed tiers around the fighting stage, buzzing with eager voices. The air reeked of competition and ego.
"Today's the day the traitless freak gets crushed."
"I heard Tyran's gonna make him eat the floor."
Vadel walked into the arena, his black hair falling over sharp, cold eyes. His uniform was pristine, but his expression wasn't pride—it was defiance.
Across from him stood Tyran Voss, a tall, broad-shouldered second-year with his signature smirk. His Ironhide trait gave his skin a metallic sheen whenever he activated it. Rumor had it he'd already broken three bones in previous challengers.
"Still pretending you belong here, Xyner?" Tyran's voice dripped with amusement. "Without a gene, you're just a punching bag."
Vadel didn't answer.
The instructor's voice boomed over the arena's comms.
"Combatants ready? Begin!"
BZZT! The shield walls flared, locking them in.
Tyran's skin shimmered into silver.
CLANG! His fist shot forward like a cannonball.
Vadel sidestepped—barely—but the shockwave still rattled his bones. The crowd roared.
"You're fast… for a defective," Tyran taunted, circling him.
Vadel's eyes narrowed. He relied on footwork, keeping distance, striking with precise jabs. But each blow against Tyran's hardened skin felt like punching a steel wall.
BAM! Tyran's knee caught Vadel in the ribs. Pain exploded in his side.
THUD! He hit the floor. The breath left his lungs.
The crowd's cheers blurred into one mocking wave.
"Get up!"
"Guess the scholarship committee made a mistake!"
Vadel spat blood, pushed himself up. His ribs screamed in protest.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of quitting.
Tyran stepped forward, silver fists gleaming. "This ends now."
Vadel ducked the punch, drove an elbow into Tyran's gut—not enough to break through. Tyran barely flinched before grabbing Vadel by the collar and slamming him into the arena wall.
CRACK!
The pain was blinding.
"You're pathetic." Tyran shoved him to the floor and walked away before the instructor even called the match.
The crowd erupted, not with respect, but with laughter.
Vadel stayed on the ground for a moment, tasting blood. Then he stood. Slowly.
His eyes swept across the stands. Not one face showed sympathy.
Not one.
---
That night, the dormitory halls were silent.
Vadel didn't go to the medical wing. He walked to the basement workshop no student visited. His workshop.
He locked the door, sealing himself inside. The air smelled of solder, oil, and ozone. Tools lay scattered over the workbench—half-built drones, disassembled plasma cutters, and a dozen failed prototypes.
The humiliation replayed in his mind, over and over. The laughter. The looks.
His hands clenched into fists.
"If I can't have a gene," he muttered, "I'll make something better."
For hours, the workshop filled with the hum of power cells, the spark of welding arcs, the hiss of coolant. His fingers moved with precision and fury.
Circuit after circuit snapped into place. Nanotube wiring coiled through crystalline processors. Energy conduits fused with neural interface nodes.
At the center of the bench lay a smooth black sphere, no bigger than a fist, its surface pulsing faintly with blue light.
He connected the final cable.
The sphere vibrated, a low hum resonating through the air. Then a voice spoke—smooth, deep, and dripping with sarcasm.
"Well, well, master. I suppose I should thank you for dragging me into existence. The name's EON. I run on infinite processing power, unreasonable levels of wit, and a burning desire to avoid boredom."
Vadel froze for a heartbeat. Then smirked. "You're self-aware."
"Please. I'm self-magnificent. And judging by your pathetic combat performance earlier, I'm also your only hope of survival."
A faint grin tugged at Vadel's lips. "Think you can fix that?"
"Oh, I can do more than fix it." The sphere's glow brightened. "With me integrated into your body, I can enhance your neural pathways, augment your reflexes, and, let's be honest, make you far less embarrassing to watch."
Vadel leaned closer. "Integration's permanent, isn't it?"
"Of course. But don't worry, I'll only control you when you're about to do something stupid. Which, given today, means quite often."
WHRRR!
The sphere unfolded into a lattice of glowing microcircuits, flowing toward Vadel's arm. He didn't flinch as it sank beneath his skin, merging with his nervous system.
For a moment, the world exploded in clarity. Every sound sharpened. Every shadow deepened. He could feel his heartbeat, his blood flow, even the subtle hum of the academy's power grid.
"Welcome to your new life, Master Vadel," EON said with a grin in his voice. "Shall we start by finding that shiny-skinned meathead and making him cry?"
Vadel's smirk was cold. "Not yet. First, we get stronger."
"Oh, fine. But I call dibs on making the insults when the time comes."
---
By the time dawn touched the academy spires again, the boy without a gene wasn't the same.
And no one knew that something far more dangerous than any gene trait now walked among them.