Nathan woke up to weight slamming down on his chest.
"NATHAN! WAKE UP!"
He let out a startled sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan as the air was forced out of his lungs. The mattress dipped sharply beneath him, then bounced again.
"Breakfast is ready!"
Nathan squinted, eyes burning as light flooded in. His sister's face hovered above him, far too awake for the hour.
"Lena," he muttered. "It's too early."
She jumped again for emphasis.
"It's not," she said. "You're just lazy."
Nathan rolled onto his side, dragging the blanket over his head. "I got my system yesterday. That should count as exercise."
"It doesn't," Lena replied immediately. "Get up."
She bounced one more time, then hopped off the bed and crossed her arms, clearly prepared to wait him out.
Nathan sighed deeply and gave up.
"Alright," he said, pushing himself upright. "I'm awake. You win."
"Good," Lena said, satisfied. "Breakfast is getting cold."
She left without another word, footsteps quick and light as she disappeared down the hall.
Nathan sat there for a moment, rubbing his face.
His body felt… normal.
No sudden soreness. No strange sensations. Just the familiar stiffness of sleep and the faint ache in his shoulders from sitting too long the night before.
The system window did not appear.
That, somehow, was reassuring.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching once before heading to the bathroom.
Cold water on his face helped clear the last of the fog from his head. He brushed his teeth, went through the motions, and stared at his reflection for a moment longer than usual.
Nothing looked different.
But everything was.
When he stepped into the kitchen, the smell hit him immediately.
Eggs and toast.
Nathan paused in the doorway.
Ethan sat at the table with a cup of coffee, scrolling through something on his phone. Lena stood at the stove, focused, spatula in hand.
Nathan blinked.
"…Lena's cooking?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Obviously."
Nathan exhaled in relief. "Thank every god that exists."
Ethan looked up. "Hey."
"If you were cooking," Nathan continued, "I would be mentally preparing myself for pizza."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "You're being dramatic."
Lena smirked. "Don't get used to this though."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I'm only doing this because today's special," she said. "You finally got your system!"
Nathan smiled faintly and took a seat.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," she added. "Tomorrow, we're back to surviving Ethan's experiments."
"Rude," Ethan said with a small grin.
Lena plated the food and set it on the table.
Scrambled eggs, mixed with just the right amount of sriracha. Toast, golden and warm.
Nathan stared at it like it might disappear.
"My favorite," he said quietly.
"I know," Lena replied, already sitting down. "Eat."
Nathan didn't need to be told twice.
The first bite was perfect.
He let out a quiet hum without meaning to.
Ethan glanced up. "So," he said, "stats."
Nathan slowed, chewing thoughtfully.
"They're… pretty average," he said.
Lena frowned. "That's it?"
Nathan thought about mentioning his ability, but decided against it.
"Yeah, that's it."
Ethan nodded. "That's fine."
Nathan looked up. "You're not disappointed?"
"Why would I be?" Ethan said. "Most people start average."
Lena nodded. "Yeah. That's normal."
Nathan exhaled, tension he hadn't realized was there easing out of him.
"I have pretty good focus and awareness," he added. "Everything else is… okay."
"That makes sense," Ethan said. "You're always thinking about some nonsense."
"Hey!"
"It's not a bad thing," Ethan continued. "Focus helps with hunting a lot."
Nathan nodded slowly.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments.
Then Ethan spoke again. "So, what are you planning to do today?"
Nathan swallowed a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "I'm going to the Hunter Association."
Ethan looked up. "Today?"
"Yeah," Nathan said. "Register, then get my weapon license and access to the tunnels."
Lena froze mid-bite. "You're going hunting already?"
"It's just registration," Nathan said. "Not hunting."
Ethan studied him for a second, then nodded. "That's fine."
Nathan hesitated. "What were your stats like when you awakened?"
Ethan leaned back slightly. "Average," he said. "Across the board."
Nathan blinked. "Really?"
"Really," Ethan replied. "I didn't push hunting much. Just enough to improve quality of life."
He stretched his back slightly. "Got most of them up to around ten."
Nathan frowned. "Is that… a lot?"
"It's enough," Ethan said. "Back pain disappeared completely."
Lena laughed. "Ethan never shuts up about the back pain."
Ethan shot her a look. "You'll understand when you're older."
Nathan smiled.
"Just make sure," Ethan continued, more serious now, "that before you go into the tunnels, you watch a guide."
Nathan nodded. "I will."
"Military availability reduces risk," Ethan said. "But, they do not remove it, so remember to be careful."
"I know," Nathan replied.
They finished breakfast not long after.
Ethan stood and grabbed his jacket. "I'm heading out."
Lena stood too. "I need to get ready."
She paused and looked at Nathan. "Good luck today."
Nathan nodded. "Thanks."
The apartment emptied quickly.
Nathan was left alone at the table, the last warmth of breakfast still lingering.
He didn't rush.
He cleaned up slowly, then returned to his room.
Today wasn't about rushing.
After taking his time getting ready he headed towards the apartment door.
Nathan tightened the strap of his bag and put his shoes on.
Lena hovered nearby, half-ready herself, hair still damp from a rushed shower. She adjusted the collar of her jacket, glancing at him every few seconds like she was making sure he hadn't vanished.
"I'll be back soon," Nathan said.
She nodded. "Make sure you don't get kidnapped."
Nathan smiled faintly, "I won't."
Lena pauses, "Also, don't get lost."
Nathan grinned widely, opening the door. "Who is suppose to be the elder sibling here?"
With that, he stepped out into the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the familiar quiet of the apartment building wrapped around him. The lights overhead hummed softly.
Nathan paused for a moment, then started walking.
Outside, the air was cool.
Morning had fully settled over the city, but it wasn't busy yet. Traffic flowed steadily without congestion. Shops along the street were opening their shutters, metal scraping against concrete.
Nathan took a slow breath and looked around.
The buildings were functional more than impressive. Reinforced concrete. Thick windows. Occasional scorch marks left unrepaired, reminders of earlier years when the city hadn't been ready.
There were rift warning signs posted at intersections—simple symbols, clean and standardized. No panic in them. Just information.
Nathan walked with his hands in his pockets, head slightly lowered, moving with the current of pedestrians.
Most people looked ordinary.
Office workers. Delivery drivers. Students with bags slung over their shoulders.
Hunters blended in more than people expected. No armor. No weapons visible. Just people with a certain posture. A way of moving that suggested awareness.
Nathan noticed them without staring.
He reached the transit stop a few blocks later.
The bus arrived on schedule, doors hissing open. Nathan stepped inside and took a seat near the window.
As the bus pulled away, the city slid past in muted colors.
Nathan rested his head lightly against the glass.
He found his thoughts drifting.
The world had changed in ways people didn't always notice anymore.
At first, rifts had only meant danger. Monsters. Death. Loss.
But humanity had adapted.
Not just to survive but to use what the rifts brought.
Monster remains were valuable now. Every part cataloged. Every substance tested.
Potions came first.
Regeneration potions had been a breakthrough. Cheap, mass-produced, made from diluted troll blood and stabilizing agents.
They didn't heal everything. They drained stamina and left you shaky and exhausted.
But they saved lives.
Then came medicines.
Diseases that had once been untreatable slowly disappeared.
Compounds that were refined from monster glands repaired nerve damage.
Bone treatments derived from high-grade creatures restored mobility.
Luxury followed close after.
Materials stronger than steel. Lighter. More flexible. Used in construction, vehicles, personal goods.
Nathan watched a reinforced tram glide by, its frame subtly gleaming.
All of it came from monsters.
Every corpse had value.
That was why hunting paid so well.
Even low-tier monsters had a use, though not a profitable one.
Goblins for example were common.
Their bodies were processed cheaply, broken down into base materials.
There wasn't much money in them.
But higher-tier monsters?
Nathan's mind drifted back to the wyrm from the livestream.
That single corpse could be worth tens of thousands. Scales. Bones. Organs. Everything harvested and sold.
Enough to change lives.
Nathan swallowed.
He didn't think about money often.
But he understood why people chased it.
The bus slowed as it approached the transit hub.
Nathan straightened and stood as the doors opened.
The hub was already busy.
Buses came and went in steady intervals. People moved with purpose, guided by digital signs and familiar routes.
Nathan stepped off and followed the flow toward the central exit.
The Hunter Association office wasn't hard to spot.
It stood a short distance away from the hub, a low, wide building with reinforced glass and clean lines. No banners. No flashy displays.
Just a sign above the entrance.
HUNTER ASSOCIATION — MERIDIAN 12
Nathan slowed as he approached.
There were people everywhere.
Clusters of young men and women gathered near the entrance, talking quietly or loudly depending on nerves. Some looked barely old enough to be there.
Fourteen. Fifteen.
Early awakeners.
Nathan felt suddenly very aware of his age.
He stopped a few steps away and took in the scene.
Some kids looked excited. Some scared. Some trying very hard not to show either.
Parents stood nearby in a few cases, pretending not to hover.
Nathan exhaled slowly.
He adjusted his bag strap again and stepped closer.
The building itself was plain.
Thick doors. Security scanners. A small line forming just inside.
Nathan paused at the entrance and took one last breath.
'What's the worst that can happen?'
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.