Light from the window cut across his face—so sharp it felt like the System itself was watching. His eyelids dragged open… blank. Not tired. Not sleepless. Just empty.
A steady hand grabbed the device strapped to his arm. It locked against his muscles as if it remembered exactly what to do.
The instant it clicked—
[RESET SUCCESSFUL]
The message flashed, then vanished.
Reset… the hell does that even mean?
He didn't know. Only that the thing once lodged in his chest was now a hollow cavity, impossible to fill.
Or maybe… it had never been there at all.
And yeah—if you're seeing this same message? Bad news.
You've already been Reset.
Welcome to COMMAND Z.
BOOM!
The air ripped apart with wild, violent energy.
If you thought this intro was gonna ease you in, forget it. Take a deep breath—or choke on the dust and shrapnel flying everywhere.
At the center of the deadliest battlefield in centuries stood the number-one assassin of The Deleter—an elite mercenary unit feared across the underworld.
Scarlet eyes flared through choking smoke, drilling into her target's soul. Crimson hair whipped in the furnace wind, revealing sharp features framed by the lens of a sniper scope. Faint scars mapped her body, the signatures of fate itself.
Her rifle was clamped so tight in her hands it could've bent steel. One long breath…
—and the trigger snapped.
The energy round tore through its mark. The body dropped in an instant. For her, there was no such thing as a miss. No second chances.
If the underworld ever crowned a Queen of Killers, every vote would go to her—Hanna.
ZZZZAP!
A piercing shriek of sorcery slammed in without warning.
The blast hurled her off her feet. Ears ringing. Vision fractured—she couldn't even make out the grass tips under her. Pain everywhere. But alive.
When her vision cleared, it only got worse. Enemies closing in. Staff glowing under moonlight—any one of them could rip her soul straight out.
Hanna clenched her teeth, swallowing the agony flooding her veins. Bloodied fingers locked around her blade until her knuckles went white.
This intel… better be worth it.
A blinding flash. Wind hammered into her face.
The body that fell wasn't hers.
A storm of arcane rounds rained down—
And a man threw himself into their path. His silhouette swallowed the destruction.
Blood streaked from the cut on his brow. His clothes were torn, burned, caked in soot. But his eyes said only one thing—he wasn't afraid of anything.
"Hold on tight—no time to explain!"
Arms of iron scooped her up before she could argue. He hauled her onto his shoulder and ran headlong through the barrage. Explosions ripped the ground a heartbeat behind them, but he didn't falter. Didn't hesitate. Not once.
The scene spun, an action movie you couldn't breathe through.
Hanna was supposed to protect this man—Javier.
But today… he was the one dragging her out of hell.
Her voice was gone, her strength drained, but his conviction was unmistakable. This wasn't a fight for himself. It was for something far bigger. Bigger than his shattered past. Bigger than any future still veiled in darkness.
Whether to rewrite the past… or forge the future he needs—
I'll stand beside this man… until my very last breath.
That was her vow. Silent. Unshakable.
Year 2100
The world's hungrier for energy than a broke college kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
Mega-cities blaze neon, wealth on parade, while alleys are pitch-black—dark enough stray dogs need night-vision goggles just to pee.
Candles? Rare collector's items now. In high-rises, each window burns like it's hosting a rock concert, night after night. Translation? In this era, justice is simple: the richer you are, the brighter you shine.
Same as it ever was.
—
In a lab sleek enough to win design awards, a man hunched over a stainless steel table polished so clean it didn't hold fingerprints. White walls glowed under rows of LED strips—proof of how high his social tier ranked.
Ethan—a scientist so far gone his body treated exhaustion as its default setting. He stood in a jungle of machines worth more than whole neighborhoods, sky-blue eyes catching the shimmer of flickering holograms.
People love to say rich guys are selfish. Ethan used to believe that—Until he realized money doesn't make people evil. It just lets them flex their evil in HD without worrying about consequences.
And Ethan? He fully believed he was Nikola Tesla—upgraded with Tony Stark's ego. Filthy rich, but not the type to toss charity coins for PR or hype up crypto scams.
"Damn it… not working. Again." He muttered, fingers digging into his messy brown hair—now more bird's nest than hairstyle.
How many times has it been? 1,225? Maybe. It didn't matter. He'd keep hammering at this until he cracked it: free, limitless energy. Not for fame. Not for fortune. Just to light a single bulb in every home—back to the old days.
That was Ethan's version of rich.
"If that's the case… then I'll rebuild it. And this time—no one will shut it down." His words rode on overconfidence, but thankfully his genius was loud enough to back it.
He turned to recalibrate settings on the holograms.
Footsteps whispered from behind.
Lillian—his wife, his anchor—walked in softly. Blonde hair tied up in a loose bun that looked effortless (though closer inspection screamed high-end salon precision). One hand rested over her rounded stomach—their future—while the other braced herself gently.
"Will it really work?"
A simple question. Heavy enough to crush belief.
But Ethan? Unshaken.
He looked up and nodded—with that sci-fi protagonist confidence he'd always rehearsed.
To her, it was just plain stubborn.
"If we don't start today, who knows if tomorrow will even come?" His line landed cool, as always.
Lillian pressed her lips softened. She stepped closer, sliding her slender fingers over his hand.
"It's not that I don't believe in you… I just want you to rest."
"I can't slow down. All of this… is for our child's future." Ethan bent, whispering against her stomach, a message written in code to a new world.
Outside, inequality burned bright and cold. But inside this lab—just two parents and their unborn child—they were building something the real world never gave: a chance.
Earlier
Beneath a concrete mansion sharp-edged as an architecture magazine spread, glass walls reflected a skyline most people could only dream of. Manicured grass greener than a golf course framed the front yard.
Wealth in the front. Secrets in the back. Secrets even AI couldn't decrypt.
Buried under it all: a hidden lab behind bunker-thick steel doors. Inside, walls glowed with endless digital panels, fiber-optic veins pulsing with the rhythm of living arteries. Machinery thrummed, awkwardly soundtracked by hip-hop that didn't quite fit.
This was Ethan's sanctuary—his place to dream bigger.
In one corner: a black cube the size of a coffin.
Relax—it wasn't for that.
A shimmer rippled. The cube's surface pulsed faintly, arms of machinery snapping out. A ring of energy hung in midair, etched with luminous runes. Sparks flared—
The portal opened.
And he stepped out.
A tall, lean man with skin dark as onyx, dreadlocks brushing his shoulders to the beat of the music. His sharp brown eyes twinkled with humor beneath an ivory hooded cloak.
You didn't need subtitles to know—he wasn't from this world.
His name was Isaac.
"Yo, Ethan. What's up?"
The messy-haired scientist raised an eyebrow, spotting a long-lost party crasher. "You've been binging my world's hip-hop too hard. Next time you'll rap instead of talk."
Isaac shrugged. "Would that be such a bad thing? I've been diving into your culture—and hip-hop? Top-tier."
Ethan snorted. "Yeah, well… meanwhile this world just can't outgrow its own stupidity. Centuries later, same dumb problems."
"…You're not wrong." Isaac's gaze sharpened. "But you still believe tech can change that, don't you?"
"The same way you believe in magic."
Isaac chuckled low. "…Maybe, when the time's right, the two will merge."
Ethan nodded, stepping closer to his old friend from another dimension.
"Remember? Ten years ago, we argued whether tech and magic could ever coexist. We weren't sure. Look at us now—we've come so damn far."
"Yeah. Crazy far." Isaac smirked. "Not surprising. We're geniuses, after all. You're the coolest scientist I've ever met."
"And you're the most hip-hop sorcerer in existence."
They both laughed—part joy, part disbelief.
"And because of that, my friend… I've got something for you."
Isaac lifted a hand glittering with silver rings, spinning energy the way a coin dances in the shimmer of creation.
A crystal manifested—blue and humming with gentle power.
Machines around them vibrated in its presence. Ethan leaned in, breath catching, face widening with awe.
"This is…?"
"Alpha Core." Isaac's tone dropped steady. "The World's Genesis Core. Pure power from the fusion of five dimensions. It could save your world…" His hand paused, pulling back slightly. "…Or end it."
His gaze locked onto Ethan's, weighing him one last time. Then—he offered it.
Ethan's hand trembled as he took it. Cold. Alive. A weight that pressed straight into his heart. "Why would you give me something this important?"
Isaac hesitated. Then spoke. "Because you're the only human I trust. And because… I owe you."
Ethan gave a crooked smile. "Heavier than it looks."
"Of course. Good things should be heavy." Isaac grinned, snapping his fingers. "Or, to say it cooler—great responsibility never comes to light."
"Sounds like the kind of pep talk you drop after we screw up."
Their laughter cracked the tension—equal parts humor and truth.
Ethan stared into Alpha Core once more. Then asked quietly—"…So tell me. Where do I even start?"
Not Long After
"This project's too big for just the two of us." Lillian spoke evenly—but weighted enough to make her genius husband's chest tighten. "Claire's family. I trust her. She's smart. Loyal. She'd never betray us."
Ethan exhaled hard—didn't help. Even his poker face couldn't hide the cracks.
"I've never doubted Claire. But Darius…" He paused, debating whether to go soft or rip it raw. "That man's made a career out of selfishness. He doesn't see past his own nose. Hell, that's giving him too much credit."
Lillian pressed her lips tight. Deep down, she agreed. Ethan wasn't one to judge without cause. And Darius—Claire's twin—was baggage no one wanted in the deal.
"So… what do we do? I already told Claire." She sighed, heavy.
Ethan turned back to the holographic display, fingers flying faster than most hackers' best day. Not just speed—precision. He was the kind of guy who'd build a vaccine a year before anyone knew a zombie outbreak was coming.
The underground station schematics bloomed into a labyrinth of complexity. Encryption layers around Alpha Core shimmered, encased under a vault dense enough to bury a god—his most coveted treasure.
"I've already set up a security net," he muttered, hitting another command.
Drones and armed exo-suits materialized in holographic blueprints, filling the air, the blueprint of a sci-fi war yet to come.
"You didn't think to mention this earlier?" Lillian arched a brow—half annoyed, half impressed. "Was this really necessary?"
"Absolutely. If someone hacks Alpha Core and twists it for the wrong purpose… the fallout would be global. Catastrophic."
She cut him a look. "So the only ones who'll ever know what we're building—are us."
"Exactly." Ethan's mouth curved into a thin smile. He almost said it again out loud: I don't trust anyone. Especially not Darius.
"Even so," he continued, "no one can get in. The system core's buried inside a Virtual World as vast as the real one. It can only be unlocked from the inside."
He tapped a final string of code. The hologram shifted—oceans swelled, cities lit, clouds rolled across the curve of Earth until the air itself shimmered.
Ethan's eyes gleamed in the glow. "No human tech can breach this. Not now. Not until our kid's old enough to try."
Lillian stared at the projection, her thoughts spinning. "…Don't tell me you built this for—"
"Of course I did." His grin widened, half-mad, half-proud. "Not just for our child. For their children too. They'll be the ones to change the world."
She shook her head, almost laughing. "God, you will never grow up. A minute ago you said it was world-ending serious—now it's a family heirloom?"
Ethan laughed with her, but the shimmer gave him away—love, hope, and the joy of a father planning the ultimate gift for his son.
A gift he never realized… he might not live to see it opened.