Chapter One — Awakening
Cold was the first thing I felt.
Not the cold of air… but a chill inside the bone, as if my body were a piece of metal left too long in an eternal void.
I opened my eyes with difficulty.
The darkness wasn't complete—just pale, blurred gray. My chest felt heavy. My breathing was slow… too steady. No pain.
That frightened me most.
No pain.
I moved my fingers.
A faint scraping sound. Solid. Not human.
I froze.
I raised my hand before my face. Dim light reflected off its surface. It wasn't skin. Nor flesh. It was a smooth, dark surface hiding hardness beneath it.
My heart didn't race.
I didn't feel the panic I should have.
That scared me more than anything.
I sat up slowly. It wasn't a bed… but a metallic platform surrounded by half-circular arches. Severed wires. Shattered glass. The smell of old dust mixed with burnt ozone.
Where am I?
I closed my eyes, searching for a memory.
Nothing.
Empty.
My name took seconds to surface.
Kaylor.
It appeared without context, as if planted inside me.
Suddenly—
A flicker.
A semi-transparent blue screen formed before me.
---
[ User Interface ]
Basic Data:
• Name: Kaylor
• Level: 1
• Race: [Error. Not registered. Please enter your race name]
• The Cosmic Record grants you the right to name your race, as you are the first of it
• Class: [None]
Base Stats:
• Health: 15
• Vitality: 15
• Mana: 16
• Strength: 12
• Agility: 11
(Currently weakened)
• Unassigned Stat Points: 0
[ Ability List ]
• Soul Split: An innate ability to divide your spiritual essence, or part of it.
• Eye of Eternity: An eye of unknown origin that sees what cannot be seen… and perceives what cannot be perceived.
---
I stiffened.
The information displayed my name… my condition… but one line caught me:
Not registered.
The first of it.
Am I the first of my race?
What is the Cosmic Record?
And why does it ask me to name myself?
A sense of absolute isolation crept in. Not just alone here… but alone in existence itself.
I ignored the notifications. Thinking wouldn't answer anything now.
I need to check my surroundings.
I looked around. A laboratory. Smooth walls. Glass columns holding evaporated fluids. Dormant machines. The place had been abandoned long ago. No sound. No life.
I stood.
The floor was cold, but my feet didn't tremble.
My body was balanced… light despite its solidity.
A silent strength lay beneath the surface, as if waiting for a command.
Suddenly—
A flicker inside my head.
A sensation of separation.
I stepped back, placing a hand on my chest.
Something came out of me.
I closed my eyes deliberately. Focused.
I felt a thread extending outward from me… as if part of my consciousness had separated, standing before me, observing without emotion.
I opened my eyes.
I saw it.
A transparent specter, connected to me by a thin strand of pale light. It moved by my will as I move my hand.
My chest tightened.
That was me.
Not an illusion.
I pulled it back quickly. The sensation returned to normal, but its trace remained like an inner tremor.
An ability.
I felt no excitement.
Only weight.
Words formed in my mind:
[ Ability: Soul Split ]
I'll understand it later.
Who made me?
And why do I have this?
I raised my hand toward my face. My left eye grew warm—deep heat, without pain.
I closed the right one and focused through the left.
The world changed.
Darkness split apart. Faint lines appeared in the air—transparent currents flowing between walls, gathering at machines, seeping from the ground. Pale colors—blue, green, violet.
Energy.
I see what cannot be seen.
I understood without explanation.
Eye of Eternity.
I looked at my hand. A thin current pulsed within it, synchronized with my entire being. I was no longer just a body… but a dense node of energy wrapped in a human shell.
Loneliness struck my chest.
The place was dead.
No trace of any other being.
Only me… and the remains of a finished project.
I stood before a shattered glass panel reflecting my image.
My eyes were dark black… until I activated the ability.
The left turned crimson. Cold. Inhuman.
I examined my reflection.
Human in appearance. Tall—nearly two meters. Coal-black hair. Sharp features. Balanced build.
But weak.
As if I had endured long deprivation… or been stripped of something.
I felt no awe.
It felt natural.
And that was more dangerous than anything.
If this is natural to me…
Then what made me?
And why was I left here?
Suddenly—
A sharp headache exploded in my skull, dropping me to the floor. This time I felt pain clearly. I twisted, clutching my head.
Memories surged like torn mist.
A distorted, cold voice:
"It worked… this is the best specimen. But it can't be relied on. We cannot control it… nor incarnate within it."
Incomplete images. Faceless figures. One word echoed repeatedly:
The Creators.
The meaning was enough.
They made me as an experiment.
And labeled me a failure.
I laughed faintly. My voice came out rough, hoarse, as if never used before.
"A failure… because I'm more complete than they intended. They cannot control me, so they call me a failure."
I fell silent, staring at the cracked laboratory ceiling.
"But… am I truly a failed experiment?"
Silence gave no answer.
Yet deep inside me, a cold certainty formed—solid as metal:
I am not a mistake.
I am a result.
And results are never created without a reason.