Kaelen Nox moved with a desperate, jolting limp, his breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Every step sent a spike of agonizing fire up his right leg, a brutal reminder that the Chronos Registry might have saved his life, but it hadn't magically healed his broken bone. That would require resources, which, in this world, meant Ranks and Gold.
He pushed himself through the labyrinthine maintenance tunnels beneath Chronos Academy—the unseen veins of the institution where Zero-Ranks lived and worked. The air was heavy with the distant hum of Aura regulators and the metallic tang of chemical cleaning solutions.
Pacing. Efficiency. Resources. The future knowledge was already overwriting the child's panic.
[HEALTH ASSESSMENT: RIGHT TIBIA FRACTURE (LEVEL II). ACUTE PAIN LEVEL: 8/10.]
[REQUIRED HEALING: D-RANK AURIC SPLINT OR $20,000 CREDITS FOR MANUAL HEALING.]
[CURRENT CREDITS: $17.50.]
"Useless," Kaelen muttered, leaning against a cold pipe.
The wealth of the future—the weakness logs of the world's strongest beings, the precise timings of the temporal apocalypse—meant nothing if he couldn't afford a common splint. He was a millionaire in knowledge, a pauper in reality.
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus past the pain. He needed the long game. And the long game started with Master Kael.
The Burden of Knowledge
The greatest difficulty wasn't the pain; it was the sheer volume of data. The Registry didn't just give him facts; it provided perfect, dispassionate analysis. It filtered the fear, but it amplified the cynicism. He knew the names of the doctors who would fail his sister in a decade, the corporations that would steal his future allies' work, and the fatal, arrogant mistakes of the heroes he was supposed to admire.
The Academy is a cage, the future Kaelen's mind dictated. The students here are all destined to become powerful, yes, but also rigid, dogmatic, and ultimately unprepared for the Temporal Cascade.
He needed to escape the academy's fate, and Master Kael was the first, most critical waypoint.
[PRIMARY MISSION: SECURE MASTER KAEL. COMMENCING OPTIMAL PATHING.]
[MASTER KAEL: RETIRED B-RANK KINETIC SPECIALIST. DISGRACED BY ANCIENT GUILDS. RESIDES: ABANDONED DOJO (SECTION Z-12).]
[CURRENT STATUS: ALCOHOLIC. LOW AURA.]
[OBSTACLE 1: ACCESS. SECTION Z-12 IS BLOCKED BY F-RANK ENFORCER.]
An F-Rank Enforcer. In his past life, Kaelen would have been terrified. Now, the knowledge was an analgesic for fear.
Enforcer. Name: Torvin. Rank: F (Brute Force). Ability: Blunt Aura Enhancement. Weakness Log: Torvin relies entirely on a wide-area Aura dispersal to intimidate. His Aura signature drops by 80% when forced to apply it to a single, small point. Likes instant ramen.
The sheer, precise detail was exhilarating. It wasn't magic; it was an instruction manual on how to dismantle the world.
The First Acquisition
Kaelen limped toward the staff locker rooms, a seldom-used utility area near the academy's old combustion generator. He needed a bribe. Not for the F-Rank Torvin—bribes only fed his pride. Kaelen needed a tool to exploit Torvin's weakness.
He located the locker he remembered: Number 44. It belonged to a former technician who had resigned a week ago after a disagreement with the maintenance supervisor. Kaelen knew the technician's password from his future knowledge of a public lawsuit filing.
He popped the lock easily. Inside, he found what he was looking for: a standard issue, palm-sized Aura Flux Calibrator.
[ITEM ACQUIRED: AURA FLUX CALIBRATOR (MARK III). RATING: UTILITY.]
[SECONDARY FUNCTION: CAN EMIT A 1.25 HZ FREQUENCY PULSE. OPTIMAL FOR AURIC DISPERSION EXPLOIT.]
It was a piece of junk to any ranked Hunter, but in Kaelen's hands, it was a precise tactical weapon. The Registry didn't just tell him what to do; it told him how the item worked, bypassing months of Aura study.
He tucked the calibrator into his white tunic. He also took a handful of sealed, high-sodium instant ramen packets from a shelf above the lockers—a small, unnecessary kindness he remembered Torvin mentioning in a casual complaint years from now. Even a Zero-Rank could be kind, provided it served the greater destiny.
Section Z-12: The Gatekeeper
The air became stale as Kaelen approached Section Z-12. The hallway was dimmer, unused, and stank of old metal.
Torvin stood by a bolted steel door, his arms crossed over a bulky, armored chest piece. He was exactly as the future remembered him: tall, blocky, and radiating a low, throbbing wave of aggressive green Aura designed to make anyone smaller than a C-Rank want to flee.
"Halt, Zero-Rank," Torvin barked, his voice vibrating slightly with his Aura. "This section is restricted. Only B-Rank personnel and above."
Kaelen stopped five feet away, carefully keeping his weight off his injured right leg. He kept his expression blank, but inside, the Registry was running the combat simulation:
[SIMULATION RESULT (RAW): DEFEAT (IMMEDIATE). TORVIN'S BLUNT AURA CRUSHES KNEELEN'S HEAD.]
[SIMULATION RESULT (OPTIMAL): SUCCESS (1.5 SECONDS). INITIATING FLUX DISPERSION.]
Kaelen didn't beg. He didn't cower. He adopted the tone of a high-level logistics assistant—a voice of polite, firm utility.
"Enforcer Torvin, I apologize for approaching, but I was sent by Supervisor Hemlock. He asked me to drop off these rations for you." Kaelen carefully held out the package of instant ramen.
Torvin's imposing form shifted slightly. His aggressive green Aura—the one designed to scatter the fearful—flickered.
"Rations? Hemlock sent...?" Torvin squinted at the cheap plastic. Even an F-Rank Enforcer had pride. Accepting food from a Zero-Rank was below him.
Kaelen took the opportunity, speaking quickly, injecting a subtle hint of panic into his voice that Torvin would recognize as appropriate for a Zero-Rank.
"Yes, sir! He said he needed to test the new perimeter seals quickly, and if you could just step to the side for a moment while I confirm the pressure readings on the door lock, he'd be much obliged."
As Kaelen spoke, his left hand—the hand that had felt the chill of the Registry's first activation—slipped the Aura Flux Calibrator from his tunic. He aimed the small device at the nearest point of Torvin's concentrated Aura: the thick, reinforced lock mechanism Torvin was guarding.
Now.
Kaelen pressed the button. The calibrator emitted a soundless, invisible 1.25 HZ frequency pulse. The wave immediately hit the steel lock, and Torvin's Aura, which was subconsciously linking to the door to reinforce his perimeter, was momentarily drawn to the disruption.
The Registry logged it instantly:
[TORVIN'S AURA DISPERSAL: 85% DRAINED TO LOCK MECHANISM.]
[TORVIN'S BLUNT AURA THREAT LEVEL: NEGLIGIBLE.]
Torvin suddenly felt heavy and flat. His aggressive Aura vanished, replaced by a momentary spike of confused dizziness. He stumbled back, shaking his head.
"What was that? Did the ventilation system just kick up?" Torvin rubbed his temples, momentarily forgetting the Zero-Rank.
"No, sir. Just a momentary pressure fluctuation," Kaelen lied smoothly, already using the momentary distraction. His free hand reached out and pushed the large steel bolt on the door, utilizing the full power of his Minor Spatial Shift—not one centimeter, but a perfectly timed, tiny push on the bolt head at the exact second the Aura reinforcement failed.
The bolt slid open with a heavy THUNK.
Kaelen didn't wait for Torvin to recover. He took two staggering, limping steps and slipped through the gap, slamming the heavy steel door shut behind him. He then grabbed the emergency locking lever and pulled it down with all his remaining strength.
The slam of the door was followed by Torvin's roar of rage from the other side.
"You! Zero-Rank! Get back here! I'll have your entire lineage scrapped!"
The Mentor's Den
Kaelen ignored the threats. He knew Torvin couldn't open the door quickly without damaging the academy property—a much greater offense than letting a Zero-Rank sneak through. He had earned himself perhaps ten minutes.
He found himself in a large, circular room. It was an abandoned training dojo, filled with dust motes dancing in the singular shaft of light coming from a broken vent. The air here smelled different—not of ozone and chemicals, but of cheap whiskey, old leather, and a faint, lingering trace of refined Aura.
In the center of the room, sitting on a broken bench, was a man who looked like he had lost every fight he'd ever been in. He was Master Kael Varian, once a feared B-Rank Kinetic Specialist, now a drunkard hiding from the world.
He was exactly who Kaelen needed.
Kaelen took a painful step forward, forcing his weight onto his injured leg to appear desperate, but his eyes held the cold resolve of the future.
Master Kael didn't look up from the bottle of cheap liquor in his hand.
"Go away, dust-eater. The Academy pays me to be forgotten, not to be a babysitter."
"I'm not a dust-eater, sir," Kaelen said, his voice firm despite the rattling in his chest. "I am Kaelen Nox. I know you were expelled because you told your students that Aura is merely a tool, and technique is the true power."
Master Kael paused, the bottle halfway to his lips. That was a secret only the high-ranking members of the Kinship Guild would know—a truth they had silenced him for speaking aloud.
He finally raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot, but they still held a flash of lethal intelligence. He looked Kaelen up and down—the Zero-Rank tunic, the dirt, the obvious severe injury to his leg.
"What do you want, boy? To mock me?"
Kaelen didn't answer with words. He took a deep, steadying breath, and focused his mind. He pulled up the Optimal Pathing for his own power, integrating the future Kaelen's vast research on minor kinetic anomalies and spatial distortion.
"I want you to teach me how to fight, Master Kael," Kaelen said.
Then, with perfect, cold precision, Kaelen Nox performed the first deliberate, non-defensive act of his second life. He utilized his Minor Spatial Shift on the bottle of whiskey in the Master's hand, moving it half a centimeter to the left.
The microscopic shift was just enough to displace the bottle's balance by a hair. It tipped, and the remaining amber liquid poured not into the Master's mouth, but over his shoulder.
Master Kael froze, his eyes widening for the first time. He hadn't seen the shift. He had only seen his reliable, familiar bottle suddenly betray him.
A perfect technique does not fail, his former Kinship Guild mantra screamed in his head.
Kaelen leaned forward, the pain in his leg a tool for focus.
"Your technique is flawless, Master Kael. But your weapon is weak. I can give you the reason to wield your power again. And in return, you will make a Zero-Rank boy the only thing capable of standing against the end of the world."
[MASTER KAEL'S AURA RESPONSE: 40% INCREASE. FOCUS GAINED.]
The hook is set. Kaelen waited for the Master's response, knowing that the greatest battle he faced wasn't physical, but psychological. He had to convince a man who had lost everything that a boy with nothing knew exactly how to win.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]