It was a little past six in the morning, and the gym was already humming.
The weight sled creaked, metal sliding against metal as Kayriz pushed through his third rep.
Boulevard of Broken Dreams played through his earbuds—Green Day, low and steady, the kind of track that hit just right when the world was still waking up. The gym lights hadn't even warmed up fully yet. White ceiling fans churned above like lazy turbines, and the floor still smelled faintly of last night's disinfectant.
He exhaled and pressed again.
Four.
The leg press machine was one of the newer ones—sleek, polished, unnecessarily futuristic. Probably cost more than his third semester's tuition. Didn't matter, so long as it didn't collapse on him mid-set.
Five.
He liked mornings like this. No waiting in line. No gym bros arguing over who stole whose bench. Just him, the music, and the weight.
The gym was half-busy, but not unbearable. A few lifters were grunting too loud. One guy was powerlifting like he had an audience of gods. A girl was filming a set that looked more tripod than workout. Typical.
Over by the cable stations, a group of college freshmen were trying to out-bicep each other while sneaking glances at the mirror. That species existed in every gym. Evolution just hadn't caught up yet.
Kay's legs burned—not painfully, just the kind of burn that said, you've got seven more in you if you don't act soft.
Six.
He wasn't doing this for aesthetics. Not really. Rosa had drilled that into his head early: "If your body can't take a hit, it won't matter how pretty it looks when it hits the floor."
Kay hadn't exactly been the disciplined type growing up—neither was Kass. But Rosa kept dragging them into morning workouts, strength drills, runs they hated. Somewhere along the line, it stopped feeling like punishment. The gym became routine. Not out of ambition or obsession—just habit.
Seven.
His phone buzzed somewhere in his pocket. Probably Kassian again. Either texting memes or asking why they were out of cereal—despite the fact he'd inhaled half a box at midnight like it was a cheat day for Olympians.
Eight.
The sled came down. Deep breath. Press.
Nine.
"Kay. Kaaay!"
A feminine voice called out, but Kay didn't hear it—not with his earbuds in and Boulevard still playing.
A moment later, a shadow fell across him.
Kay raised an eyebrow, locked the weight plates in place, and double-tapped his right earbud to pause the music. He pulled one pod out and looked up.
"What's up, Mia?"
Mia, nineteen—same as Kay—was a classmate from college. The gym sat midway between campus and their rented house, so it wasn't unusual to run into familiar faces.
She and Kelly—another girl from their class—shared the top floor of the same house Kay and Kassian were renting. Kay and Kass had the ground floor.
They were friendly enough—occasional Netflix nights and passive-aggressive fights over the washing machine—but nothing deeper than that. The girls had only moved in two months ago, after all.
Kelly wasn't at the gym, of course. She didn't believe in "voluntary sweating," as she put it. More of a BTS fangirl than a barbell enthusiast. Cardio, in her book, meant dancing in front of her mirror at 2 a.m.
Mia hesitated, then sighed like it physically hurt her to say it.
"Well… Alice asked if you were free tonight."
Kay glanced past her toward a cluster of girls near the dumbbell rack. One with a red ponytail was mid-set, all focused breath and biceps. Another—brunette, hair tied back—was very subtly glancing his way. The moment his gaze met hers, she spun back toward her friend like it never happened.
He raised an eyebrow at Mia. "What for?"
"She wanted to know if you'd be interested in a blind date. With a few of her friends," Mia said, shrugging like she wasn't entirely onboard with it either. "Some of our guys from class will be there too. Group thing."
Kay raised an eyebrow. If Alice was behind it, odds were she already had the pairings in mind. Probably wasn't that blind.
Kay stared at her. "That's not a blind date. If I already know who's gonna be there, that's just… pre-scheduled suffering."
Mia snorted. "It's called socializing."
He exhaled, still reclined against the leg press. The towel slipped off his shoulder as he glanced up at her.
"I'll probably hit the dojo after classes. Check in on the kids."
She looked at him flatly. "Your face is wasted on you, Kay."
He smirked.
Medium-length black hair framed a fair, clean face—no stubble, no signs of sleep deprivation yet. But it was his eyes that people noticed first.
A pale, piercing gray—like moonlight on steel.
Yes, he was one of the rare 3% born with gray eyes—caused by extremely low melanin in the iris and dense stromal collagen that triggered Mie scattering, diffusing all wavelengths of light evenly. The result wasn't the vivid blue of Rayleigh scattering, but a pale, steely gray—cold, neutral, and uncommon.
No wonder people stared.
Not that he cared.
As they were talking about the date—something strange happened.
A flash—like a star tearing open daylight.
The sky, still smeared with dawn, rippled with aurora-like streaks. Colors bled across the horizon, too vivid, too wrong.
It felt like the world was being scanned. Not just the gym. Not just the city.
The entire planet.
A low, seismic hum rolled through the ground.
"What the hell—?"
"Aaaah!"
CLANG— A dumbbell hit the floor.
Panic exploded.
Kay jolted as the tremor hit, his legs slipping. He slid awkwardly off the leg press—body twisting, momentum carrying him backward.
Just as he reached out to catch himself, he crashed into Mia's legs, sending them both sprawling.
At that exact moment, his left earbud kicked in—maybe from the jolt—crackling to life with a familiar tune.
"I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known..."
Still mid-fall, Kay's head turned toward the floor-to-ceiling glass panels. His gray eyes widened.
In slow motion, he watched the sky outside. Colors shimmered like an aurora—comet-like streaks of light weaving through early dawn.
It didn't look beautiful.
It looked like a warning.
Like the herald of the End.
"Kyaa—!"
Mia fell, landing hard on top of him. The air rushed out of Kay's lungs in a grunt.
Above them, the lights flickered—like something ancient had just blinked.
And then… silence.
The colors vanished, and the lights returned to normal.
Like it had never happened.
Mia almost smacked her head on the leg press, but caught herself just in time.
"Ow…" she muttered.
A muffled voice groaned from beneath her.
"Can you get your heavy ass off me?"
A vein twitched on Mia's forehead.
"F*ck you, bastard."
She deliberately sat harder on his chest before finally standing up.
Around them, the regulars—office workers and college kids alike—were all looking around, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
"Was that an earthquake?" someone asked.
"Holy sh*t!" a girl cried. "My iPhone 16 Pro Max—just bought it! It got scratched!"
"F*ck your iPhone," someone else snapped. "I almost died doing a double plate press on the Smith machine!"
Kay slowly pushed himself up, brushing himself off. He spotted his right earbud on the floor, picked it up, then turned toward the floor-to-ceiling glass panels.
The sky outside looked normal again.
Too normal.
Kay stopped the music and took out his earbuds, slipping them neatly into their charging case. Then he stepped closer to the glass panels.
The gym was a high-tech facility on the third floor. The lower levels hosted yoga classes and other wellness activities—massage therapy, maybe even dance studios. Kay never bothered checking.
Outside, chaos had taken over. People had rushed out of their homes, likely thinking it was an earthquake. A few minor accidents dotted the streets, though nothing seemed too serious.
Then, without warning, Kay's vision dimmed.
And he wasn't the only one.
All across Earth, the same thing happened.
A single voice—cold, detached—echoed in their minds.
— ✦ —
[ OMNIX CODEX initializing… ]
[ Accessing Planetary Database… ]
[ Accessing Individual Record… ]
[ Individual Identified: Kayriz Ashveil ]
[ Classification: Candidate ]
— ✦ —
Kay stared at the panel that flickered into his mind.
It wasn't like seeing with his eyes. More like when you close them—everything dark—and your imagination kicks in. The panel was just there, projected into that mental canvas, clear and crisp.
Through the glass walls ahead, the outside world remained visible. Everyone had frozen in place. Not moving. Not blinking. Like time itself had paused.
So… it wasn't just him.
OMNIX CODEX?
Candidate?
Before he could process that, more messages followed.
— ✦ —
[ Welcome to Ludus Genesis ]
[ Do you wish to participate? ]
[ Yes / No ]
[ Countdown — 01 : 00 : 00 ]
[ Failure to respond within the time limit will result in automatic rejection. ]
— ✦ —
Kay looked at the floating panel and instinctively knew—it had something to do with the seismic event earlier.
Mia called him. "Kay, did you get the message too?"
He turned to her and nodded.
"Is this… something from the government? Maybe some kind of experiment?"
His lips twitched. "I thought you had a brain, Mia."
Her eye twitched. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, as*hole?"
"Do you really think the government has the tech to send virtual messages directly into everyone's minds? From what I can see, it wasn't just us. Look at her."
He gestured toward a pink-haired girl nearby, who was currently live on YouTube—or maybe TikTok, whatever—rambling excitedly to her viewers.
"Guys, I think I've been chosen! Can you see this? It's right in front of me, oh my god—"
Kay muttered, "If this was a real selection, they wouldn't be sending invites to people like her. Whoever made this clearly doesn't have a filtering system."
Mia glared at him. "Hey, don't talk sh*t about Sheila. If she hears that, she'll either add you to her TikTok drama list or cry about how some 'toxic dude' bullied her. Her fans don't need much to go nuclear."
As they were still on the subject of going nuclear, Kay's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He sighed. "Here comes another one."
He pulled it out—and of course, who else could it be? Kassian.
His brother. Not by blood, but might as well be.
Kass was a year older, currently in his third year of college. Kay was in his second. Both of them had been orphans once, before Rosa's dad took them in.
"Kay, I'm heading back to the room," Mia said, already turning away. "Dad texted me."
Kay didn't even look up. "Let me guess—'Don't do anything, daughter. Wait till the government explains what's happening?'"
She gave a half-shrug. "You know how it is. So... are you going to accept?"
He finally glanced at her, holding up his phone where Kass's profile was flashing on the screen. "Hmm. Who knows. Lemme talk to this guy first."
"Alright then." Mia gave a small wave as she drifted out of the gym. "See you."
"Yeah, bye."
Kay took the call, and an annoyingly familiar, mischievous voice came through the line.
"Bro, are you seeing what I'm seeing?!"
Kay sighed. "If you're talking about the game-like panel in my head—yeah."
Kassian chuckled. "Hehehe. I think the time has come, Kay."
Kay raised an eyebrow. "What time?"
"Don't play dumb. You've read plenty of webnovels, haven't you? Earth trembles, apocalypse descends, portals open, people awaken. Doesn't this look exactly like that?"
Kay fell silent. He hated to admit it, but it did look like that. Still... those were just stories. Words on a screen. People's imaginations.
He exhaled. "So? Are you going to accept?"
"Oh, I already did—"
"What?! You idiot—wait, nothing happened?"
"Well, not yet. I think there are more steps. It asked for a nickname next."
"A nickname?"
"Yeah," Kassian said. "Feels like we're about to join a game."
As Kay was talking with Kass, a sudden shout pulled his attention away.
"Guys, I think I got it!" one of the freshers from his college exclaimed.
His friend turned to him. "Got what?"
"Well, I looked it up online—Ludus Genesis. It sounded familiar. 'Genesis' means creation, origin etc.. and 'Ludus' means game in Latin. So basically… It means Game Creation."
"So… are the Italians behind this whole game-message thing? Did they really advance so much they're sending virtual messages into our heads now?"
The guy who'd just looked up Ludus Genesis scoffed. "Idiot. Latin came from the Romans. That's literally what it says online."
"Oh wow, f*cking genius over here," snorted Claire, a blonde from Alice's group. "Rome's in Italy, dumbass."
Kay watched the whole exchange with a blank expression. Then he started thinking.
"Kay, Kaaaay… Kyaaaa—Kay, noooo…"
Annoyed by Kass's voice blaring from the phone, Kay ended the call and focused.
He knew what Genesis meant—Greek for creation, or origin, something along those lines. It definitely wasn't Latin.
Ludus, though… he hadn't known that one before. Thankfully, that loud fresher had shouted it out a moment ago. What was his name again?
Kay shrugged. Who cares?
The real question was—who the hell was powerful enough to beam a message like that into everyone's mind?
A god?
He scoffed at the thought.
Maybe it was a chip implanted in his brain when he was a kid.
Then again, he didn't know much about his early years—being an orphan left a lot of blanks.
Still… that didn't track. Everyone else had gotten the message too.
Kay looked out through the glass panels. The darkness was fading, giving way to the rising sun. Dawn was here.
He grinned slightly.
He didn't know what this was—but he had a feeling he'd end up joining, whatever the hell it turned out to be.
Kass? That idiot would jump in without thinking. And if the two of them joined, their mother hen—or big sister—Rosa would definitely tag along… mostly to kick their asses for not listening to her.
Ludus Genesis, huh?
Game of creation.
Sounds like a scam.
Still… scams were fun, if you knew how to play them.