Arin stepped out of the school gates and stopped.
He stood there for a second, bag hanging off one shoulder, eyes unfocused. The city moved around him like it always had—cars honking, students laughing, someone arguing loudly into a phone.
Normal life.
He took a breath.
"…Okay," he muttered, grounding himself. "Old District. Artifact. Future."
The words felt heavy. Real.
Yesterday, he'd been worried about a math test. Today, he was planning a break-in to prevent the end of humanity.
"AXIOM," he whispered, rubbing his temples. "If I'm actually doing this… what's step one?"
AXIOM:
"Step one: Nutritional intake. Current bio-fuel levels are insufficient for high-stress activity."
A pause.
"Recommended: High-calorie protein bars. Estimated cost: twenty-five dollars."
Arin blinked.
He patted his pockets.
Empty.
He checked his wallet.
A library card.
A gum wrapper.
Two crumpled dollar bills.
The seriousness cracked for just a moment, replaced by a dull, familiar headache.
"…I have the knowledge of a god," Arin muttered, staring at the money, "and the budget of a beggar."
AXIOM:
"Correction. You are currently fifteen dollars in debt to the cafeteria staff."
"Shut up," Arin groaned.
***
Arin didn't go to school the next day.
Not because he was scheming.
Because his body gave up.
He slept for eighteen hours straight.
No dreams. No visions. Just exhaustion catching up all at once—the regression, the system, the data pressure his mind still hadn't fully processed.
When he finally woke up, his head felt clearer. Lighter.
[NEW FUNCTION AVAILABLE: BASIC INVENTORY]
A small, translucent panel hovered at the edge of his vision.
Empty.
Stable.
"…You could've told me about this earlier," Arin said.
AXIOM:
"Activation was delayed to reduce cognitive strain."
"…Fair."
***
October 14.
Arin walked into the classroom.
Usually, he walked with his shoulders hunched, eyes on the floor, trying to be invisible.
But today, he forgot to hide.
He walked in straight, his eyes scanning the room not with fear, but with calculation.
"Appraisal," he thought instinctively.
A transparent window flickered over the class bully, Vance, who was laughing loudly in the back row.
[TARGET: VANCE RIVERS]
[Threat Level: Low]
[Potential: None]
[Status: Loud Mouth]
Arin almost snorted. Loud Mouth. Even the System had an attitude.
He walked to his seat.
The silence wasn't immediate, but it rippled through the room.
A girl in the front row paused her conversation and glanced at him.
Vance stopped laughing for a second, frowning as Arin passed by without flinching.
"Hey," someone whispered. "Is that Arin? Did he grow taller?"
"He looks... different."
"Since when does he look people in the eye?"
Arin sat down, ignoring the whispers. He liked this.
"Yo! Ghost!"
A heavy hand slapped Arin's back.
Arin didn't jump. He turned slowly.
It was Leo.
Messy hair, loose tie, and a grin that spelled trouble. Arin's only "friend"—if you could call him that. They mostly just shared homework answers and complained about teachers.
"Where were you yesterday?" Leo grinned, pulling a chair around. "Skipped? Without me? Traitor."
Arin looked at Leo.
For a split second, something twisted painfully in Arin's chest.
A sudden weight.
A sense of loss he didn't understand.
AXIOM:
"Emotional imprint detected."
Arin stiffened.
"Don't," he thought. "Not now."
AXIOM went silent.
Leo was laughing, cracking a joke about the math teacher, completely unaware that he had an expiration date.
Arin's grip tightened on his desk.
Not this time.
Arin smiled. A genuine, slightly strained one.
"Emergency," Arin said. "I was sick."
"You look like you hit the gym, not the hospital," Leo laughed. "Anyway, let me copy your Math homework."
"Didn't do it," Arin said. "But... I need a favor."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "I'm not lending you my game console—."
"No," Arin said shamelessly. "I left my wallet at home. I need twenty bucks."
Leo stared at him. Arin never asked for money. Arin never asked for anything.
Leo sighed and pulled out his wallet.
"Pay Me Back Later"
He handed over a crisp $20 bill.
Arin grabbed it like it was the Holy Grail.
"I'll pay you double next week."
"Don't need double. Just cover for me in Physics tomorrow."
Arin Nodded.
***
That Night.
Arin stood across the street from Construction Site–4, hoodie zipped, breath steady.
He was full.
Every dollar Leo had given him had spent on greasy burgers and energy drinks.
[BIO-FUEL: 100%]
"…Okay," Arin whispered. "Let's do this."
He didn't need to guess where the guards were.
"Scan," he commanded.
A faint red wave washed over his vision. He saw two heat signatures through the concrete walls.
One in the booth.
One patrolling the east wall.
"Too easy," Arin smirked.
Arin moved when the patrol turned to light a cigarette.
Arin vaulted over the right wall.
He landed silently on the soft dirt.
Thump.
He walked to the marked spot.
He knelt and dug with a small garden trowel he has brought with himself.
Dig. Dig. Dig.
The soil was harder here. Dense clay mixed with rocks. The night was quiet. Too quiet.
Clang.
It sounded like stone grinding against stone.
Arin's heart skipped a beat.
He knelt down and brushed the dirt away.
There it was. A rotting wooden box, bound in rusted iron chains.
The moment his fingers brushed the wood, the air vibrated.
A low hum, like a bass speaker, resonated in his chest. The hairs on his arms stood up.
AXIOM:
"Warning: Mana Leak detected. The seal is degrading. Hurry."
Arin swallowed dryly.
"Appraisal."
[Item: The Pale Amber Box]
[Contents: Condensed Mana Shard (F-Rank)]
[Status: Unstable]
Arin grinned, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Got you..."
He stood up, shoving the heavy box into his hoodie pocket. It bulged visibly.
"HEY!"
Arin froze.
A beam of light sliced through the darkness, hitting him square in the face.
It was the Site Supervisor, holding a heavy-duty flashlight and a walkie-talkie.
And Two burly security officers blocking the only exit.
"We've got a trespassor!" The Supervisor shouted. "Lock the gate!".
Arin took a step back.
He looked at the exit. Blocked.
He looked at the wall. Too high to climb fast with the heavy box weighing him down.
He checked his status.
[BIO-FUEL: 96%]
He smiled. A nervous, crazy smile.
"…AXIOM," he whispered. "We have a problem."
AXIOM:
"Correction."
The guards charged.
"They have a problem."
Arin tightened his grip on the Pale Amber Box—
—and stepped forward.