Leo was a zero.
Not in the grand scheme of things, perhaps, but in the new, terrifying world order, he was utterly insignificant. He worked as a low-level data entry clerk in the last functioning corporate enclave of Veridia City, a flickering bastion of light against the encroaching dark. While others manifested faint "Aptitudes"—a minor spark of pyrokinesis, a slight boost in strength, an ability to sense the Gloaming—Leo had nothing. He was baseline. Ordinary. A potential victim.
His life was a cycle of tedium and terror: input data, avoid his supervisor, and hurry home before curfew, praying the barrier generators around the enclave didn't flicker. He saw the haunted looks in the eyes of the "Sweepers"—the armed teams who ventured outside the walls to clear minor manifestations. He didn't want to be a hero; he just wanted to survive.
That changed on the day the Gloaming leaked into Sector 7's sub-level transit hub.
It was a "Echo," a psychic residue of a panicked stampede that had occurred there during the early days. It didn't usually manifest physically, but today was different. As Leo rushed to catch his train, the world shifted. The clean, fluorescent lights flickered and died, replaced by a sickly, green-tinged gloom. The air grew thick and cold, and the sounds of the station were drowned out by phantom screams and the thunder of a thousand panicked footsteps that weren't there.
A psychic wave of pure, distilled fear washed over him. People around him froze, their eyes wide with a terror that wasn't their own, some beginning to scream and run blindly. Leo felt it too—an icy hand closing around his heart. He was going to die here, lost in a memory that wasn't his.
No. Not like this.
The thought was a spark in the overwhelming darkness. He had to run. It was the only action his fear-soaked brain could conjure. Just run. One step. Then another.
And in that moment of absolute desperation, something clicked inside him. A circuit he never knew existed closed. A silent, internal notification seemed to flash behind his eyes.
*[Skill Recognized: Sprinting - Basic Lv. 1]*
[Activating Talent: Hundredfold Application.]
*[Sprinting - Basic Lv. 1 x 100 = Sprinting - Master Lv. 10.]*
The world didn't slow down. He sped up.
The fear was still there, but it was a distant buzz. His body became a symphony of perfectly coordinated motion. The simple act of putting one foot in front of the other was transformed into an act of supreme artistry. He wasn't running; he was a blur.
He wove through the frozen, panicked civilians with impossible grace, his feet barely touching the ground. He saw the gaps in the chaotic crowd not as they were, but as they would be. He covered the length of the cavernous station—a distance of three hundred meters—in what felt like three heartbeats, arriving at the emergency exit, breath steady, heart a calm, powerful drum in his chest.
He looked back. The Echo was still active, a swirling vortex of phantom misery. But he was out. He had moved faster than the fear could latch onto him.
Leaning against the cold concrete wall, Leo finally processed what had happened. He hadn't just run fast. He had performed a miracle of athleticism. And he knew, with a certainty that chilled him more than the Gloaming ever had, that it wasn't a fluke.
He had felt the mechanism. A talent that didn't give him power, but multiplied what was already there.
A hundred times over.