The gray outside my window wasn't just a color; it was a mood.
A heavy, suffocating blanket of clouds smothering the city, and me along with it.
The light that managed to bleed through the dusty curtains was weak, anemic, painting long, distorted shadows across the cramped apartment.
It illuminated the evidence of my life: a bare mattress on the floor, a leaning tower of second-hand books threatening to avalanche, a single chair wearing my hoodie like a ghost of yesterday.
This wasn't a home; it was a waiting room. And I'd been waiting years for a purpose that never showed up.
Another day, Another shift of forced smiling at strangers, carrying their plates, blending into the background like a piece of scenery.
What do you have to show for it, Allen? A sore neck and a stack of rent receipts.
I sat up, the groan that escaped my lips sounding as tired as I felt.
I worked the heel of my hand into the permanent knot at the base of my skull, a souvenir from last night's double.
The movement was automatic, a ritual of resentment.
My feet hit the cold floorboards, and I shuffled toward the kitchen, my posture slumped, each step a conscious effort against the gravity of my own apathy.
The air had a bite to it, raising goosebumps on my arms.
My eyes, gritty with lack of sleep, scanned the counter for salvation.
The coffee pot. My one faithful companion.
I reached for it, my mind already miles away, back in the comforting numbness of the routine.
Then... A searing, electric jolt, raw and violent, exploded up my arm.
It wasn't a muscle spasm or a pinched nerve.
This was something alien, something inside me.
My fingers spasmed open. The pot slipped, plummeting in terrible slow motion before shattering against the countertop.
The sound was a gunshot in the silent apartment, glass skittering across the linoleum like a handful of diamonds.
"Damn it...!" The curse was a sharp, startled gasp.
The pain was already receding, but it left behind a… a hum. A vibration humming just under my skin.
I stared at my hand, my heart suddenly a wild drum against my ribs.
It was glowing. Tiny, impossible filaments of blue lightning danced between my fingertips, crackling with a soft, hungry energy.
They snapped and weaved, casting jagged, dancing shadows in the dim kitchen.
I couldn't breathe. This wasn't exhaustion. This wasn't a hallucination. This was…
What the hell—
Before the thought could fully form, the air in front of me shimmered.
It solidified into a pane of light, translucent yet impossibly vivid.
Glowing text etched itself into existence, sharp and sterile against the backdrop of my dingy life.
Ding!
The sound was clean, digital, and utterly out of place.
[Alert: Awakening Triggered.]
I flinched. The words hung there, immutable.
My eyes raced over the rest, each line more insane than the last.
[Congratulations! You have awakened with 'Infinite Mana']
[Mana - (SS/Null Rank) (Infinite)]
Infinite? SS, Null Rank? The words didn't make sense.
[Special Traits:]
- [Due to its rank, your mana is self sufficient and self sustaining.]
- [Due to its rank, your mana operates beyond any conceivable, and inconceivable system of limitation.]
- [Your mana is "truly" infinite/boundless, sustaining endless usage without pause, restraint, consequences or depletion.]
- [Due to its rank, no existence, or force, conceptual, or absolute, can drain, nullify, manipulate, erase, restrict, interfere, or interact with your mana, it is "truly" immutable.]
My mind stuttered, trying and failing to process the sheer, arrogant scale of it.
It read like the fine print on a god's contract.
The screen updated.
[Analyzing user latent potential...]
[Affinity matched: Lightning - 99.9% Synergy]
[Granting Innate Ability: Lightning Manipulation - SS/Null Rank]
Another screen, another wave of impossible information.
Lightning. The very thing currently flickering over my own skin.
[Special Traits:]
- [Due to its rank, your lightning transcends the concept, and logic of normal/true lightning.]
- [Due to its rank, whatever your lightning touches is erased, not just physically, but conceptually.]
- [Due to its rank, your lightning grows stronger in response to resistance, always surpassing, transcending, and overpowering any opposition.]
I stood frozen, my breath held tight in my chest.
Conceptual erasure?
I looked from the screen to my hand, the blue energy still dancing harmlessly across my skin.
It felt warm. Alive. It felt like… power. A terrifying, all-altering kind of power.
I sighed realizing something I almost missed.
Nah, I don't trust this.
This level of illusion doesn't work on me.
I have heard of things like this happen to people.
My alarm would probably soon ring. Then I would realize this is a dream. I am still asleep on the mattress. Have to wake up, clean up the glass, and go to work.
But the screen didn't waver. The lightning didn't fade.
A wild, desperate curiosity clawed its way up through the disbelief. I had to know. I had to test it.
My eyes landed on an empty tin can sitting in the sink. A perfect, pathetic target.
"Okay," I whispered to the silent room, my voice hoarse. "Let's try this."
I raised my hand, palm open toward the can.
I draw the tiniest thread, a single droplet of mana.
I focused, pouring every ounce of my will into restraint.
Just a spark. Just a flicker. Don't blow up the sink. You can't afford a new sink.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. A flush of embarrassment warmed my cheeks. Of course. It was a—
CRACK.
The sound was shockingly loud. A bolt of pure, blinding blue energy, no thicker than a piece of string, lanced from my palm.
It wasn't a graceful arc; it was a vicious, instantaneous strike. It hit the tin can dead center.
A perfectly smooth, cherry-red hole the size of a coin bored straight through it.
The edges glowed, molten for a second before cooling into a twisted, surreal scar.
The air filled with the sharp, metallic tang of ozone and vaporized steel.
I stared, my jaw slack. I had felt the release of power, but it was… nothing.
Less than nothing. It was like exhaling a single breath and watching it topple a tree.
"No way," I breathed, the words barely audible.
I didn't use anything. A fraction of a fraction. And it just... created a hole on it.
I flexed my fingers again. This time, I didn't hold back. I simply willed it.
My entire hand erupted. Not in a violent burst, but in a controlled, brilliant cascade of energy.
Blue-white lightning coiled around my wrist and forearm, crackling and snapping with contained fury.
It lit up the entire kitchen in strobing pulses, bleaching the grime from the walls, reflecting a thousand times in the broken glass on the floor.
The hum was a powerful melody now, a song that resonated in my bones. It felt right. It felt like me.
The gray world outside my window looked different now. Not smaller, but… irrelevant.
The monotony, the ache, the endless loop, it all seemed to fade into a dull background hum.
A faint, disbelieving smirk touched my lips, a foreign expression that felt like my own.
"I think," I murmured to myself. "I am going to enjoy this."