Chapter 1: The Pariah and the Prodigy
In the year 2025, the world was remade by a substance named Puls. Released globally by his parents, Sera and Ren, it was a nano-tech energizer that merged with the planet's biology. It gave rise to Pulsars—humans with incredible abilities—and twisted wildlife into grotesque, monstrous creatures known as Neutrons. But the very people who unleashed this new age were lost to the chaos they created.
Their son, a teenager named Roy, lived with a heavy secret. His parents had locked his true power, masking his S-rank talent as a meek D-rank to protect him from a world that would either exploit or hunt him. His ability was intentionally misread as a pathetic Level 5, earning him the cruel nickname "Static."
He walked into Pulsar Academy, a place where greatness was worn like a badge of honor, feeling like an imposter. During the entrance exam, he barely managed to pass, his weak Puls blasts earning him snickers and whispers. Students who saw his D-rank score called him a weak, insignificant blot on the Pulsar registry.
Classes began, and Roy was a pariah. No one wanted to be paired with him, a D-ranker who could barely muster a weak blast of Puls. He was always alone, enduring the scorn of his peers.
Until a girl named Jean sat down next to him. She was a Level 23 Pulsar with the graceful confidence of a seasoned warrior, her sleek nano-tech katana gleaming at her side. "Don't let them get to you," she said, her voice a comforting contrast to the jeers. "Everyone starts somewhere."
Her kindness was a lifeline, but it couldn't stop the daily routine of the bullies. A trio of them, led by a sneering boy named Jax, cornered Roy, demanding his allowance. Roy, remembering his parents' warnings, silently complied, his eyes fixed on the floor, enduring the taunts and the shame.
Chapter 2: The Misfit Team
The field trip to the testing grounds was a massive arena teeming with low-level Neutrons. The prize for the best team was the bone marrow of a Level 20 Neutron—a substance that could dramatically increase a Pulsar's strength. Teams of five were to be formed, each with a designated role: Swordsman, Gunner, Tracker, Support, and Sheilder.
Roy, a self-proclaimed nobody, chose the role of Gunner, a dual-pistol wielder. He was a ghost in the pairing process, too weak for anyone to consider. But once again, Jean found him.
"We need a Gunner," she said, her voice warm and inviting.
A rush of hope filled his chest. "Yes," he said, the word coming out as a shaky whisper.
Soon, three others joined their group of leftovers: Rose, a Level 12 Tracker; Nathan, a Level 18 Tracker; and Sam, a Level 20 Sheilder. They were a team of outcasts, but to Roy, they were his first real friends.
The arena was a storm of chaos and light as Pulsar blasts lit up the sky. Roy, however, was useless. His blasts were so weak they barely left a mark on the monsters' tough hides. He stumbled, missing his shots, a flash of fear coursing through him.
"Don't worry, Roy!" Jean yelled, a blur of motion as she cut down a Neutron. "Just stay back! We'll protect you!" The others nodded in agreement, a silent promise that in this team, no one fought alone.
They battled on, a surprisingly cohesive unit, when a deafening boom shook the ground. The bully's team, Jax and his friends, had stumbled upon a Level 30 Neutron—a monster that shouldn't have been there.
Chapter 3: The Unleashing
Two of Jax's friends were down, and the monster was closing in. Without a second thought, Jean's team sprinted toward the sound. They found Jax desperately trying to shield his injured friends. Roy saw the raw terror in his eyes and felt a surge of something more powerful than fear.
"Level 30!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "It's a Level 30 Neutron!"
The monster, distracted, turned its massive head. Roy's team, brave but outmatched, was now stuck. They fought with all their might, but the Neutron was a force of nature, swatting them aside like flies. One by one, they fell. Roy watched his friends collapse, their Puls cores flickering, and the rage he had suppressed for years boiled over.
Images of his parents' final moments flashed behind his eyes. He had been a coward then, a useless child. He refused to be one now.
A dark purple aura erupted from his body, a dense cloud of Puls so thick it crackled with raw energy. The dual pistols in his hands twisted and morphed, their muzzles extending into sharp, gleaming blades. Roy was no longer the timid D-ranker. He was a whirlwind of controlled fury, a Melee Gunner with a terrifying new skill. He closed the distance in a blink, his blades blurring as he tore through the Level 30 Neutron. He dodged, weaved, and fired, a perfect symphony of close-quarters combat and long-range precision.
The battle was short and violent. With a final, crushing blow, the Neutron fell. Roy's strength, once hidden, had now been unleashed. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a sudden, dizzying exhaustion. He collapsed, his body trembling, and looked up at his friends.
"Don't tell anyone," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell them... tell them we all defeated it together."
The secret of his true power was safe for now, but a new chapter in his life had just begun. He was no longer a ghost; he was a silent storm waiting to be unleashed.
Chapter 4: The Silent Storm
The deafening silence that followed the Neutron's fall was more jarring than the chaos that preceded it. Roy's body, humming with a power he had only just discovered, trembled violently. He felt a wave of dizzying exhaustion wash over him, and he sank to his knees, the twin blades in his hands flickering and retracting back into his pistols. He looked up, his friends' faces a blur of shock and concern.
"Don't tell anyone," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Tell them... tell them we all defeated it together."
Jean was the first to move. She knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "Roy, what was that?" she asked, her voice hushed with awe.
He just shook his head, unable to explain the surge of energy, the raw power that had coursed through him. Rose, Nathan, and Sam gathered around them, their eyes wide with disbelief. They looked at the defeated Level 30 Neutron, a goliath that had been swatted down with terrifying speed, and then at the frail D-ranker who had just collapsed.
"We need a story," Jean said, her eyes meeting each of theirs. "No one would believe what just happened. We were a cohesive team, but we couldn't handle that. We need to say we were lucky, that the Neutron was exhausted, or that we found a weak spot."
"No," Roy said, his voice stronger now. "We say we fought it together. That our teamwork made us stronger. We don't take the glory, we share it."
And so, as the academy staff rushed in to assess the damage, the five misfits stood together, a silent, unwavering wall of solidarity. They told the official story: a brutal, prolonged fight where their combined efforts, a lucky shot from Roy's pistols, and a well-timed shield from Sam had brought the monster down. The staff, bewildered but relieved, accepted the explanation.
Back at the academy, the whispers didn't stop. They changed. Instead of "Static," they were now "The Misfits Who Beat a Level 30." Students and teachers alike looked at them with a mixture of suspicion and grudging respect. Jax, his face a mask of shame and anger, avoided their gaze. The victory had not only saved his life but had also exposed his weakness, a truth that burned hotter than any Puls blast.
In the days that followed, Roy's life became a delicate balancing act. He was still "Static" in public, a D-ranker who fumbled with his Puls and barely scraped by in class. But in secret, under the watchful eye of Jean, he began to train. They found an abandoned training room, a dusty corner of the academy no one ever used. There, Roy practiced with his morphing blades, the Puls within him a roaring fire waiting to be controlled.
His power was unlike anything the academy taught. It was a fusion of Puls and physical combat, a brutal ballet of close-quarters combat and long-range precision. Jean, a master swordsman, helped him refine his movements, teaching him to channel his Puls into his blades with precision, not just raw power. Their bond, once a simple kindness, grew into a deep, unwavering partnership forged in shared secrets and stolen training sessions.
One afternoon, as they were working, a new figure entered the training room. Professor Alistair, a stoic and highly respected Pulsar who taught advanced combat, watched them from the doorway. He had a reputation for seeing things others missed, for spotting hidden talent, and his gaze was fixed on Roy.
"You've been getting stronger, Roy," Alistair said, his voice calm but his eyes sharp. "I saw your fight. That wasn't just luck. That was something different. Something powerful."
Roy's heart pounded. He and Jean froze, the secret now threatened. But Alistair didn't expose him. He simply watched, a faint smile on his lips.
"The Puls is a magnificent thing," he said, more to himself than to them. "It's always looking for a way to grow, to evolve. You, my boy, are just the beginning of that evolution. I'll see you in class."
With that, he left, leaving Roy and Jean staring after him, their secret no longer their own. The professor's words were a warning and a promise. The silent storm was no longer hidden. It was now a target, a new chapter waiting to be unleashed.