They say it all started over a hundred years ago.
Give or take. Who really knows anymore?
When the first cracks appeared in the sky, people thought it was just a freak weather thing, like a storm gone wrong or a glitch in the sun.
No one really understood it.
Not until the screaming started.
The cracks got bigger, louder, and hungrier.
And from them came things that didn't belong in our world.
That's when everything changed.
Cities vanished, oceans flipped.
And us? We stopped being the top of the food chain.
People started calling it 'The Fracture Event.'
Like giving it a name made it easier to sleep at night.
The Earth… changed.
That's what they all say.
Apparently, it started slow with mountains disappearing overnight, oceans bleeding upward like gravity just gave up.
Then came the creatures. Beasts crawling out of glowing cracks in the sky, swallowing entire cities like they were snacks. No one knew where they came from or why.
That's when it showed up.
Some voice, or presence, or… whatever. It called itself the Myriad Alignment Protocol.
People call it the M.A.P. now.
At first, they thought it was just another AI prank—some billion-dollar tech illusion gone too far.
Turns out it wasn't.
Because then… Earth started changing.
The voice, MAP, began integrating us into something bigger. Something it called the Universal Weave.
A layered framework of connected worlds, each one running on its own rules. Different logic, different physics… different dangers.
We weren't the center of the universe.
We were just a missing puzzle piece MAP finally plugged back in.
They say every world has something called a Resonance Value—
A power scale that decides where you stand in the food chain.
Back then, Earth didn't even know such a thing existed.
Then it happened.
MAP spoke to the whole planet at once. One message, burned into every screen, every sky:
"Earth will be integrated."
People lost it.
They were already dying from rift monsters tearing cities apart—now this?
So MAP gave us Talents.
Gifts, I guess… if you could call them that.
But something went wrong.
Some glitch or accident—no one really knows.
Whatever it was, Earth only half-merged with the rest of the system.
That's when things really went to hell.
Space started breaking in ways it shouldn't. Time warped, gravity flipped.
Safe zones shrank, monsters got worse. And humans?
We barely hung on.
A few crazy people crossed the rifts anyway. Most didn't come back.
But the ones who did brought weird scrolls, cultivation methods and alien stuff—things thought impossible on earth
With that, we started fighting back.
Not winning. Just… surviving.
Now, every fifteen years, MAP shows up again. Doesn't speak. Doesn't care.
It just… awakens people.
Gives Talents to the next batch of kids.
My turn's coming soon, No pressure, right?
***
Velcroft Safe Zone — Morning of the 15th Alignment Cycle
Orin Veylan dusted off his wrinkled shirt, fingers moving automatically like he'd done it countless times. It was the best he had. He tugged it straight, then checked the time on the wall panel.
He wondered if a Talent could change anything… or if he'd just be another orphan swallowed by the rifts, like the rest.
Down the hallway, a voice called out.
"Veylan! You're up. Don't keep us waiting."
"Coming," he said, not looking up.
The orphanage wasn't loud, just full. The kind of place where nobody asked questions unless it slowed the day. No parents to fuss, no one to say good luck. Just a clipboard with his name and a spot in the line.
He stepped out into the corridor, hands in his pockets.
"What took you so long?" Matron Vessa asked, her voice soft, eyes scanning his face for answers.
"I was just straightening my shirt… And do we really have to go to the Hall? Won't it be the same no matter where we are?" Orin asked, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"No. Going to the Hall increases your chances. The city finally gave the orphanage one of the inner quarters." Vessa said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him gently toward the exit. "I'm not letting that go to waste."
A total of seven teenagers lined up at the entrance, eyes wide as they stared at the hovering vehicle.
"Wow," one of them whispered, "I can't believe the city actually sent a skimmer to fetch us."
A girl rolled her shoulders like she was loosening nerves before a fight. One boy gave a half-laugh, too loud and too sharp.
Orin noticed another quietly tracing the mark on his wrist, counting seconds or grounding himself. Maybe both.
"Alright, everyone in! The kind sir didn't come all this way for nothing." Vessa shouted, leading them in.
The skimmer lifted off with a soft hum, wind brushing their faces.
Orin sat near the window, watching the orphanage shrink below them—rows of gray buildings, containment walls, and distant surveillance towers wrapped in haze
***
The Whispering Hall stood still, its walls lined with glowing symbols, lovingly maintained over the years.
Candles flickered between pillars. The air was heavy, not with silence, but with breath held in hope.
Inside, people stood shoulder to shoulder, reverent and waiting.
Outside, more gathered, lining the steps, the path, the hills beyond.
Since MAP only arrives once every fifteen years, humanity adapted.
They treated it like a divine lottery.
Across the world, scattered zones known as Resonant Sites became sacred ground, remnants of where MAP once tried to root itself.
Some are old ruins, natural anomalies, and a few, like the Whispering Hall, were built around the lingering echoes of MAP's presence.
No one fully understands how they work, but after some experiments one thing was clear:
Those who awaken within them have a higher chance of getting a better talent.
And so, when the time comes, cities empty. Families travel for days. Hopeful and desperate souls all gather, willing to risk anything for a spark worth chasing.
Outside the Whispering Hall, guards stood still by the entrance, there to keep the restless crowd from entering.
The skimmer landed in silence. Vessa opened the door, and the children stepped down one by one
"The Voice will arrive any moment now," someone murmured.
Orin and the other orphanage children stood in a straight line, his head slightly tilted, eyes looking at the stars in daylight. He didn't really care whether he was inside the hall or not—as far as he was concerned, it wouldn't matter.
Above, the stars grew brighter, not faint but bold, gleaming lights, as if night had swallowed the sun.
The crowd murmured, breath catching.
It was starting.
A low hum vibrated in their skulls.
[Myriad Alignment Protocol: Initiation.]
The voice resounded in everyone's mind at once, whether they stood inside the hall or far beyond its walls
[Myriad Alignment Protocol: Cycle 15 Initiated.
Assessing biosignatures... Synchronization in progress...
Talent distribution commencing.]
Orin had a strange look on his face.
It felt… wrong having a voice speak inside your head like it knew everything about you
A soft golden wave spread through the sky and passed over the land.
Then, it began.
One by one, people started to glow.
Some clutched their heads as strange symbols appeared on their skin, shining like stars. Others dropped to their knees, gasping as strange power filled their bodies. A few floated off the ground. Some screamed. Some laughed. Many cried.
A girl nearby let out a breath of flame, her arms glowing with leaf-shaped marks.
Orin Veylan's eyes darted around, observing each child as they awakened their talents. "Hmm…!" He frowned noticing he was the only one out of the children present who nothing strange was happening to one way or the other.
"Why… am I the only one who…" before he could finish the thought, the voice rang in his head
[It is detected you already have a talent.
Classifying talent: Unknown
Detection complete: Individual possesses a pre-existing innate talent.] The unexpected voice was cold and emotionless
[Classification failed. Talent type: Unknown.]
[Attempting to trace origin of detected talent.
If origin is verified, talent will be preserved.
If origin is untraceable, talent will be terminated along with the bearer…]
"What?!" his voice cracked with panic as the cold, mechanical verdict sank in.
"Orin, what's wrong?" Vessa asked, stepping forward as the others stayed frozen. She was the only one who noticed, something was terribly off.
[Result: The origin couldn't be traced: Anomaly detected.]
[Untraceable entity. Termination required.]
[Commencing termination sequence…]
Orin clutched his head as a sharp, pounding pain drilled through his skull, like a hammer striking from the inside.
He collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing uncontrollably, limbs jerking as if reacting to some unseen force tearing through him.
"Orin!" Vessa cried, rushing to him "What's happening to you?!"
[Termination failed.]
[Individual's talent could not be erased]
[Reclassification in progress… Designation: Uncontainable Entity.]
His knees buckled. He held on for as long as he could — then his head hit the ground, and everything went black.