A soft breeze whispered across the rooftop, tousling Kaidren's hair as he stared down at the sprawling city below. Neon signs shimmered like runes across the night—blue, red, violet—blinking in rhythm with the pulse of City Z. From this height, the world felt slower, quieter… like the chaos of the streets couldn't reach him here.
He exhaled slowly, now seated cross-legged at the edge of the tall building, feet dangling above hundreds of feet of open air.
"How the hell did I end up here…?" he muttered, voice barely above the wind.
It hadn't been teleportation. At least, not in the traditional sense. There had been no swirling vortex, no flash of spatial rupture. One moment, he was standing in a grimy alleyway. The next—whoosh—he was on a rooftop, the cityscape yawning around him in every direction.
A corner of his lip almost twitched. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I broke the damn sound barrier.
But he let the question fade. It wasn't useful. Not now.
Far below, in the darkened alley he'd just vanished from, the PSERD officer stepped carefully over damp concrete. His boots made almost no sound, but his presence felt heavy, deliberate. The man's brow was furrowed in a deep, unreadable line, his jaw tight with suspicion.
"I know damn well I followed someone in here," he muttered, scanning every corner of the alleyway.
His eyes traced the faded graffiti, the leaning dumpsters, the walls that boxed the space into a trap of shadows and silence. Nothing moved. But something wasn't right.
He took a step forward, slow and focused.
Then another.
He paused.
Gone. Completely gone.
No footprints. No trace of movement. As if the hooded figure had been a mirage. But the officer's instincts screamed otherwise—something had absolutely been here.
His right hand twitched slightly as he let out a slow breath, and then—gently, almost reverently—his esper ability awakened.
A blue, shimmering mist began to spill from his feet like powder dissolving into the air. Wispy trails curled through the alley like fog, each particle alive with subtle intent. The mist wasn't random—it moved with precision, sweeping across the walls, floor, and air like it was reading the story left behind.
The officer's eyes narrowed.
His ability: Enhanced Sense.
And with it, his perception stretched. He could feel the faintest pressure shifts in the atmosphere, taste the ionized scent of leftover energy in the air. He could hear the last echoes of a heartbeat where none currently lived.
Then—he froze.
His face darkened.
"...This... isn't normal."
The mist began to glow faintly where Kaidren had once stood.
A residual trace. But not of something familiar.
Something foreign.
His breath hitched in his throat. He took a half-step back unconsciously.
"NXU Nexarion...?" he whispered, voice nearly lost to the silence.
A rare type of esper energy—unstable, untamed, unnatural.
He clenched his fists.
"No, this one's not just rare. This one's dangerous."
And whoever had left it behind had done so without being noticed. Without being seen. Without leaving a single trace detectable through normal means.
For someone with Enhanced Sense—a Tier 3 ability capable of tracking invisible targets in combat—this was unthinkable.
"That shouldn't be possible…" he growled under his breath.
The implication stabbed at his spine.
Whoever that hooded figure was... either they had a rare teleportation-type ability, or they had achieved super speed at such a level that even his senses couldn't register the movement. Either way—
"...Tier 3. Maybe Tier 4."
His gut twisted. If a rogue esper that powerful decided to go on a rampage, the city could be in serious danger. And this one wasn't just powerful—he was evasive. Smart. Calculated.
"Damn it," he muttered, teeth clenched. "A hoodlum with that kind of power is no joke."
He cast a final, wary glance at the alleyway, the blue mist still glowing faintly around him like ghostlight.
This was beyond his pay grade.
He turned on his heel, slowly, steadily, making sure not to rush. Not to let fear show. But the nerves clawing at the edge of his spine were undeniable.
"I need to report this."
He walked away, every step measured, his mind already calculating how to relay what he'd found to the higher-ups.
And behind him, the alley returned to silence.
Back above the city, Kaidren sat still on the rooftop, letting the cool night air wash over him. Wind tugged gently at his hoodie, pulling at the fabric like it was trying to lift him into the sky.
His fingers brushed against the stone ledge beside him. Cold. Solid. Grounding.
Though he had long since dismissed the question of how he got here, something in him still buzzed—a quiet, racing thrum in his chest. The aftershock of motion, like static beneath his skin.
He let his eyes drift across the lights below. Cars slid through intersections like slow-moving stars. Distant sirens wailed in another district. Voices and music drifted faintly up from rooftop bars and street corners.
So much life. So much motion.
But up here—it was peaceful. Isolated.
He let the wind wash over his skin again, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
If he focused… if he let go of everything else… it almost felt like he was transcending the city below. Not in power. In presence. As if, for just this moment, he existed outside it all.
Another breath escaped his chest.
"I was fast," he said quietly. "Too fast."
His brow creased slightly. It hadn't been teleportation. It hadn't even been controlled. Just pure acceleration—his body, reacting to danger, pulling energy from every unlocked ability and launching him across the cityscape like a bullet.
And the scariest part?
He hadn't seen anything during the movement.
No lights. No buildings. No road.
Just gone—and then here.
His heart, though mostly calm, still carried that faint adrenaline hum. And it reminded him—he didn't come here just to sit.
It was time to test more.
Kaidren uncrossed his legs and slowly rose to his feet, standing tall against the wind, the skyline behind him casting his shadow long and narrow across the rooftop.
He took a slow stretch, rolling his shoulders, rotating his neck until it gave a soft pop. His arms stretched outward, and then upward, as he inhaled deeply through his nose.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's try something new."
But this time—with focus.
He rolled his wrists, warming his joints, grounding his feet on the rooftop surface like a runner at the starting line. He knew now that if he lost control—if he didn't anchor his mind—he could end up crashing straight through a building… or worse.
"I can't just let my body decide for me," he whispered to himself. "I need to see where I'm going. Control the momentum."
Another deep breath.
The wind whipped against his clothes, and Kaidren stood still, the world around him vast and flickering with movement—but inside, his mind was a still lake.
No distractions this time.
No footsteps.
No questions.
Just him—and the power.
A violet shimmer began to pulse subtly around his body, faint and crackling with quiet energy. Like embers dancing on the surface of a slow-burning fire. The sparkling haze twisted around his limbs like affectionate serpents, hugging him tightly. It never failed to make him pause.
"So easy…" he murmured under his breath.
Each activation still felt surreal—like a cheat code written into the very muscle and marrow of his body. The ease of it made him quietly grateful. Whether the system transported him mid-shit, he couldn't deny the convenience of being granted full mastery over six esper abilities.
His senses flooded open again.
The air—the wind's subtle currents brushing past his ears. The humming neon lights across buildings. The flutter of a bird's wings somewhere behind him. Every sound, every touch, every heartbeat... all felt intimately close.
His muscles were taut, humming with restrained power. His bones, light yet unyielding. His skin felt resistant, hardened, yet still carried the sensitivity of touch. The body wasn't just enhanced—it was transformed into something... alien. Unnatural.
And yet, it felt like home.
The violet aura swirled closer now, responding to his focus. He stood still, letting the air settle around him again before glancing across the rooftop. Nothing of use. No loose bricks, pipes, or debris to strike or throw. No resistance to measure his strength against.
"Tch."
He scanned the edge of the roof again—his gaze catching on something from afar.
A neon sign.
It blazed brilliantly against the night sky: A.B. Corp, plastered proudly across a nearby tower several kilometers away. The bold, electric-blue letters pulsed in rhythmic strobes. Gaudy. Flashy. Trying too hard to be important.
Kaidren clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. "Showy bastards," he muttered flatly.
He was just about to turn away when something stirred in him. A strange thought. A ridiculous, reckless one.
Could I jump there?
He stared at the building. Really stared.
The distance wasn't small. Four, maybe five kilometers—an absurd stretch for any human being. Even with body enhancement, even with reinforced joints and legs of steel, it wasn't just a leap. It was a death wish.
He frowned. "Where the hell did that idea even come from…"
But as the absurdity echoed in his head, so did something else.
A surge of confidence.
It came without warning. Like a second heartbeat. A quiet voice in the back of his mind whispering you can do it. His heart didn't race. His face didn't change. He remained stoic, lips drawn in a thin line, but inside, something was bubbling.
Why do I feel like this is doable?
The logical part of him protested. If he missed, he'd be street paint. If his control slipped for even half a second, there'd be nothing left of him but a crater and a story.
Still… the feeling persisted.
Calm. Steady. Dangerous.
It was the same strange intuition that let him teleport—or whatever it was—without meaning to. A deeper instinct. One he didn't quite own but was slowly starting to trust.
He took a step toward the edge of the building.
From this height, the city looked like a different world—lights streaked across roads, shadows danced between buildings, the wind whispered its warnings. The A.B. Corp tower rose in the distance, almost taunting him.
"Four, maybe five kilometers," he muttered, expression unmoving. "Suicidal."
But the confidence whispered again.
You can.
He tilted his head and stared once more.
"…Fine," he said aloud. No drama. No flair. Just a flat, quiet agreement with the voice inside him.
He glanced at his feet. "Can I even adjust jump strength like that?"
The moment the question left his lips, a soft click echoed in his mind.
As if answering him, new knowledge bloomed inside. Not taught—but downloaded. Immediate and innate. The principles of motion, the nuance of force control, the physics of trajectory—like muscle memory that didn't exist until now.
He blinked once. "Right... Grandmastery," he said simply. With these abilities at their peak, everything was intuitive. Muscle contractions, friction resistance, air resistance—it was like being an Olympic athlete who had trained since birth, except multiplied by ten.
He took another step forward. The edge was only a few paces away.
He didn't hesitate.
No warm-up. No more overthinking.
His instincts had already taken the reins.
Kaidren lowered his stance, mimicking the position of a professional sprinter about to launch—but this wasn't a race. It was a gamble with gravity. A defiance of logic. The wind curled around his shoulders like a silent witness.
The A.B. Corp tower loomed in the distance.
One final breath.
His chest rose.
He held it.
Then—he jumped.
BOOOOOOM.
The rooftop cracked beneath him with a resounding shockwave. A deafening blast of wind exploded outward, sending loose pebbles and dust flying. The spot where he'd stood fractured in a spiderweb of stone, a small crater left behind in his wake.
A violet afterimage trailed behind him—sparkling, ethereal, a comet streaking through the sky.
For a moment, the rooftop was empty again.
Only the wind remained.
And the faint scent of unknown origins still lingering in the air.