"Master Alex, there are two types of awakeners: Dominant and Recessive," the speaker explained. "Dominant awakeners know their abilities right after awakening. For example, Ethan's steel body or the leader's speed enhancement—they understood their powers immediately. Recessive awakeners, though, need specific conditions to unlock their abilities."
"Liam, our leader, died fighting the zombie beast Shadowfang," another voice said. "Master Alex, you still don't know your awakening ability. I'll temporarily lead the Greenridge base. Once you awaken and reach the third-tier level, I'll hand the position back to you. How's that?"
"Hahaha, Alex, do you still think you're the base's golden boy?" a third voice sneered. "Let me tell you, on this supply run, the leader gave me a secret task: make sure you don't come back alive."
Darkness, stuffiness, hunger…
Alex curled up and slowly opened his eyes.
When sleep was light, his mind buzzed with images—memories or dreams, he couldn't tell.
He squinted in the dim light, knowing dawn had broken. Without it, this old mall would be pitch-black. Three years after the apocalypse, electrical systems had long broken down. No lighting meant total darkness at night.
Cautiously standing, Alex peered through the glass. Outside was eerily silent. Yet, in the faint light, he spotted one or two shambling figures—zombies—wandering the mall, their movements chilling.
This was a massive shopping center with a cinema, appliance stores, and clothing shops. Before the apocalypse, it would've been bustling. Now, Alex prayed he was the only thing moving here.
His stomach growled. Two days without food left him hollow, his stomach acid burning. Outside, the zombies seemed calmer after two days of frenzy. Two days ago, he'd joined a base team to scavenge supplies, entering this mall. Predictably, they met zombies.
In the chaos, Alex—an ordinary guy unaware of his awakening ability—was abandoned. The team captain admitted it was deliberate. Ironically, the team didn't get far. A second-tier speed-type phantom zombie, a nightmare in the dim light, wiped them out. Alex, who'd hidden early, survived.
He shook off the thought. Survival meant nothing if he starved. Guessing the phantom zombie had moved on, Alex stood. He'd search for food, risking danger while he still had strength.
Moving like a cat, eyes wide, he stayed silent. Zombies had keen hearing. Despite his nerves, he reached a supermarket sign. Food! Canned goods might still be edible, even if most stock was expired.
Relieved, Alex relaxed slightly. Then, at a corner, a stumbling zombie lurched toward him.
Startled, Alex stepped back, tripped, and fell. His palm stung, scraped by something sharp, but his focus was on the zombie. Face-to-face, it noticed him instantly.
The zombie lunged. Alex rolled desperately, scrambling up with sudden strength. He fled, his heavy footsteps echoing in the silent mall. More zombies, drawn by the noise, shambled closer, knocking over hangers and making a racket. A dark, lightning-fast shadow—likely the phantom zombie—flashed in the dimness.
Soon, seven or eight zombies cornered Alex. Desperate, he ducked into an appliance store. Misfortune piled on: another zombie blocked his path.
Grabbing a laptop, Alex swung at the zombie's head. Unnoticed, the laptop vanished when it touched the blood on his palm. His hand grew hot, and a swirling vortex appeared in his palm.
Before he could react, the vortex sucked him in.
The zombies, including the slender phantom zombie, stormed the store. But Alex was gone.
The world spun, like a brief coma. When Alex awoke, he was stunned. He sat in a bar, several figures staring at him, dumbfounded.
After a moment of disorientation, Alex realized he was in a strange bar.
Glancing down, he noticed a scratch on his palm. A faint, computer-shaped mark flashed briefly and vanished. Alex suspected this had triggered his long-dormant awakening ability, but there was no time to explore it now.
Looking around, he saw four others in the bar, clearly in a heated standoff. One held a gun, another raised their hands in surrender, and a third had his palms pinned to a table with daggers.
"Where am I? What's happening?" Alex's mind was a jumble. Moments ago, he'd been fleeing zombies. Now, he was here.
The others stared at him, equally confused. They'd just noticed him appear from a swirling vortex in the air.
"I'll kill you two monsters!" a man shouted, aiming his pistol at Alex and pulling the trigger.
A gunshot rang out. Alex dodged, but searing pain shot through his left arm. Blood oozed from a bullet wound.
As the shot echoed, the man with the dagger reacted. Fury in his eyes, he yanked the dagger free and hurled it, piercing the gunman's throat. With a wave of his hand, he guided the dagger through the air, swiftly killing the other two men.
"An awakened?" Alex thought, clutching his arm. The man's control over the dagger was uncanny.
"Are you a mutant too?" the man asked, letting the dagger hover beside him as he studied Alex. Glancing at Alex's arm, he added, "I slowed the bullet with my ability. The wound shouldn't be too bad."
Half an hour later, in a hotel room, Alex and the man sat together. Their conversation on the way had clarified things: Alex was in the X-Men movie world. The term "mutants" confirmed it. The absence of zombies further proved he'd left his apocalyptic world behind.
As Alex settled in, the man, carrying a shopping bag, pulled out gauze, alcohol, and pliers. "By the way, your name's Eric, right?" Alex asked, his thoughts finally clearing.
"Yes," Eric nodded, preparing to treat Alex's wound.
The gunshot wound wasn't severe, as Eric had said. The bullet was visible in the bloodied hole—a minor injury, thanks to Eric's ability to slow it.
Suddenly, as Eric touched Alex's arm, a strange image flashed in Alex's mind: a computer desktop with a pop-up in the corner reading,
Removable storage device detected.