The dim morning light filtered through thin curtains, casting a pale glow across the modest apartment. Biro's eyes snapped open, his mind still heavy with fragments of memory—shards of another life, another self, lingering like a dream that refused to fade. He flexed his fingers, noticing the smooth, unscarred skin, the absence of the familiar aches that marked the past he could not yet name.
The room smelled faintly metallic, tinged with warmth from the pendant around his neck. Without understanding why, Biro instinctively clasped it. A faint hum resonated through him, a vibration that stirred something dormant deep inside. He felt it before he could name it—the fragment of power that had survived death, pulled across dimensions by a force beyond mortal comprehension.
[System Panel Activated – Talent Awakening Detected
Name: Biro Kael
Age: 18
Talent: F – Dormant Omniversal Fragment
Bloodline: Fragment of Primordial Omniversal
Profession: Omniversal Authority
Aura: Hidden
Mentor: Appears once per Talent Level ]
The panel floated silently in his vision, cryptic symbols and unfamiliar terminology swirling in midair. Biro blinked several times, feeling a strange resonance with the text. The words seemed meaningful—not in the language of men, but in the language of instinct, of essence. The fragment pulsed faintly, as though curious about its new host.
His gaze wandered to the small desk beside the bed. A notebook lay there, filled with the careful script of his mother. She always encouraged him to write, to observe, to record, but even in her notes, there were gaps—questions unasked, hints unspoken. Biro felt the weight of those absences, though he could not yet name their significance.
The city beyond the window was alive in a way he had never imagined. Towering buildings glinted in the pale sunlight, hovercars moved silently through the air, and a distant hum suggested energy streams pulsing beneath the streets. He knew nothing of this world, yet he understood instinctively that it was a place of rules, of power, of danger.
Biro rose, testing his body with tentative movements. The F-grade fragment responded subtly—his reflexes slightly faster, his awareness sharper, a faint warmth running along his spine. It was not enough to fight, not yet, but it was a beginning.
From the kitchen came the sounds of life: the quiet clatter of dishes, the murmur of conversation. His parents moved as they always had—efficiently, quietly, aware of each other and of him—but there was an undercurrent, a careful vigilance in every gesture. They spoke to him as they had every morning, guiding him through breakfast, reminding him of the mundane: classes, schedules, rules of the city.
But Biro sensed the restraint behind their words. Something unspoken hovered between them, a barrier of secrecy he could not breach. His father's hands were strong and steady as he passed the plate across the table, yet they held a tension, an unspoken calculation. His mother's eyes flicked occasionally toward him, quick and subtle, as if measuring whether he had noticed—yet he had not, not fully. His younger brother chatted cheerfully about school, oblivious to the latent currents swirling around their family.
Outside, the city stirred. Minor rifts flickered at alley corners, thin and nearly invisible, yet even their faint distortion suggested danger. Biro's fragment stirred in response, reacting instinctively to threats he could barely perceive. For the first time, he understood that this world had monsters, challenges, and dangers that would not wait for him to be ready.
"Biro," his mother said softly, "take care when you go outside. Remember what we discussed." Her words were mundane, but the caution behind them was layered, deliberate. His father added, "The world is... larger than you realize. Keep your eyes open."
He nodded, though he did not yet understand what to watch for.
As he stepped outside, the streets stretched before him—a maze of steel, glass, and unspoken tension. Pedestrians passed without noticing the faint shimmer of power around him, a flicker only he could sense. The fragment pulsed faintly, tugging him toward a narrow alley where shadows moved differently, edges of reality bending just slightly.
Biro's instincts urged caution, but curiosity burned stronger. His first encounter would not be with classmates or friends, but with the subtle, lurking dangers of this new life. The fragment's hum grew louder, as if approving of his attention.
And somewhere above, hidden in shadows, his parents watched silently, their knowledge and power concealed, ensuring that he remained unaware of the Mythic bloodline flowing within him. They did not interfere directly, only guiding indirectly, letting the world shape him—and the fragment awaken—on its own terms.
Biro did not yet know who he truly was. He only knew that the world was alive, dangerous, and full of possibilities. And for the first time since his rebirth, a spark of determination lit in his chest.
"I will not fail," he whispered to himself, the fragment responding with a faint surge. "I will survive. I will grow. And one day... I will understand everything."