Kael wasn't supposed to matter.
In a universe where achievements became superpowers, society was built on the idea that greatness could be quantified—and rewarded. A record-breaking invention might grant technokinesis. Winning a planetary championship might awaken telekinetic prowess. Even surviving a black hole accident could unlock time manipulation. But what did you get if you were invisible? If you'd never done anything the world thought worthy?
Nothing.
You got nothing.
At eighteen, Kael was a ghost in a world obsessed with light. No recognized achievements. No official record in the planetary database. No family name to prop him up. No slot in the gleaming towers of Earth's Academy of Supers. As far as the system was concerned, Kael didn't exist.
But that was exactly what he wanted—for now.
He stood alone on the rooftop of an abandoned power plant on the outskirts of New Tokyo. The city glimmered in the distance like a cluster of stars that had fallen to Earth—bright, untouchable, alive. Neon reflected in his dark eyes as he adjusted the collar of his coat, the fabric laced with low-tier cloaking tech he'd patched together from scrap.
Below him, a makeshift illusion rig hummed to life. He'd built it himself using stolen tech, salvaged Academy-grade projectors, and a little genius the universe didn't know he had. The setup was crude—dangerous even—but if it worked, it would be the most important lie anyone had ever told.
And it would finally make them notice him.
This wasn't just a performance. This was an audition for power.
Kael crouched beside the terminal, fingers flying over the cracked glass interface. The rig was loaded with a staged data burst—emergency signals, seismic feedback, energy spikes. The illusion would show him tampering with volatile illusion energy, pushing the limits, sacrificing himself in a flash of brilliance and disaster. The kind of event that would get archived, studied, mythologized.
There would be no body.
Only the story.
"This is insane," Kael muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. The city pulsed behind him. "But so is the world. And I'm done playing by its rules."
He glanced at the pocket watch he always carried—not because it told time, but because it had once belonged to the only person who ever believed in him: his brother, Elias. Dead, gone, forgotten. A failed power-chaser who died in obscurity. The system had erased him like he'd never lived.
Not Kael. Not again.
This time, someone would remember.
The final timer beeped.
Ninety seconds.
Kael retreated to a trapdoor beneath the rooftop, a hidden bunker with a reinforced shield that would protect him from the concussive feedback. His heart pounded in his ears. Was this going to work? Could an illusion of greatness be enough to create real power?
His hypothesis was simple: if the universe gave powers based on belief in one's achievement—personal or public—then what if you could fake an achievement so convincingly that the universe itself was fooled?
What if perception was enough?
Sixty seconds.
Kael slipped into the bunker and latched the hatch. A small display screen showed the countdown, flickering with static.
He whispered to himself. "They'll believe it. They have to."
The timer hit zero.
Outside, the sky above the rooftop exploded in blinding light. A surge of heat rippled outward, tripping sensors and setting off alarms across the city. The illusion was perfect—Kael's image flickering in the blast, his scream echoing in the wind, the shockwave collapsing the roof just as the hologram disintegrated.
Security drones scrambled. Academy watchtowers caught the event from multiple angles. News feeds picked up the seismic tremor and the eerie data trail left behind.
Young man dies in failed experiment—possible first breakthrough in illusion-energy conversion.
The headline would go viral within the hour.
Kael, "unregistered," would become a myth.
And if the system responded—if the laws of the achievement-power bond were truly tied to perception—then Kael might awaken something. A glitch. A spark. The beginning of a power born not from truth, but from belief.
In the silence of the bunker, he stared at the monitor.
No errors. No detection. No signs of life.
Perfect.
He waited.
You can't fake being chosen by the system, they always said.
Kael was about to prove them wrong.