The ringing silence in the corridor felt heavier than the blow Zeke had just landed. Dozens of students stared in stunned disbelief, their eyes darting between the dented metal locker and Keith, who was curled on the floor gasping for air like a fish out of water.
Zeke didn't wait around for the teachers to arrive. His heart was hammering against his ribs, a strange aftertaste of ozone lingering on his tongue. He lowered his hand, shoved his trembling knuckles deep into his jacket pockets, and quickly melted into the crowd before the hallway erupted into chaotic shouting.
He walked fast, heading straight out of the school gates and into the quiet streets of the lower district. The moment he was entirely alone in a secluded alleyway, a sharp chime echoed right inside his skull.
The blue and crimson windows flared back to life, but this time, they weren't error messages. They were a cold, unyielding reality check.
[EMERGENCY FIREWALL PROTOCOL: ENGAGED] [PRIMAL ESSENCE DETECTED IN UPPER DATA LAYERS: RE-SEALED] [CURRENT STATE: COMPONENT ACCESSIBILITY LOCKED (UNAVAILABLE UNTIL CONDITION MET)] [SYSTEM NOTICE: TO CONSTRUCT A VESSEL CAPABLE OF WIELDING DETECTED FORCES, THE USER MUST ESTABLISH A PHYSICAL FOUNDATION.]
Zeke cursed under his breath. He tried to focus on his chest, trying to summon even a single spark of that electric blue fire, but it was gone. The invisible wall inside him had snapped shut again, tighter than before. His body felt completely hollow, his Magic Power reading a flat, unmoving zero.
Then, a new screen materialized in front of his face, pulsing with an aggressive golden light.
[DAILY QUEST: THE PRIMORDIAL VESSEL]
[OBJECTIVE: REINFORCE THE PHYSICAL CONTAINER TO PREVENT FUTURE CELLULAR COLLAPSE.]
[REQUIREMENTS:]
[HYDRATION: CONCURRENT CONSUMPTION OF 4 LITERS OF WATER (0/4)]
[CARDIOVASCULAR DRIVE: 10-MILE RUN (0/10 MILES)]
[MUSCULAR ENDURANCE: 1,000 PUSH-UPS (0/1000)]
[CORE STABILIZATION: 1,000 SIT-UPS (0/1000)]
[LOWER BODY CONDITIONING: 1,000 SQUATS (0/1000)]
[TIME REMAINING: 14 HOURS, 32 MINUTES, 11 SECONDS] [PENALTY FOR FAILURE: CELLULAR DEGRADATION / DEBUFF TO ALL BASE METRICS]
Zeke stared at the numbers, his jaw dropping. "Ten miles? A thousand reps each? Are you insane? I'm a Zero, not a Giant!"
The system offered no response, the timer simply ticking down in cold, precise milliseconds.
Zeke swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. He remembered how it felt to look through Keith's fist. He remembered the raw, terrifying majesty of the blue Aetherflame that had ignited his knuckles. He was a Zero in a world where people like Keith could crush him on a whim just because they had an Ability Scroll.
If this insane, hellish grind was the only way to tear down that firewall and claim the power hiding inside his own soul, he wasn't going to back down.
"Fine," Zeke muttered, tightening the straps of his backpack. "If I have to build a vessel from scratch, then I'll build it."
He started to run.
By hour four, his lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass. By hour eight, his shirt was completely soaked through with sweat, his arms trembling violently as he pressed his chest down to the dirt in a hidden park corner, counting his four-hundredth push-up.
Every muscle in his body screamed in absolute agony, pushing him to the absolute brink of human exhaustion. But every time his knees buckled, the ticking golden clock in his vision—and the memory of the terrifying blue fire that had answered his call—forced him back up.
He didn't have standard Magic Power or an Ability Scroll. But he had a locked cosmic sequence carved into his very soul, a glitching firewall, and a ticking time bomb of power waiting for him to become strong enough to wield it.
Zeke wiped the sweat from his eyes, locked his jaw, and dropped down for his next rep. The firewall was heavy, but he was going to tear it down piece by piece.