Rain fell softly over Mongula.
Not enough to flood the roads. Just enough to darken the soil and wrap the settlement in the scent of wet earth and burning wood. Morning fog drifted between the houses while workers moved quietly through the streets, their voices lower than usual after what had happened the night before.
The dead man had changed something.
Even people who didn't understand why could feel it.
Kiyoto stood near the edge of the settlement beside the covered body, arms folded tightly across his chest. The white cloth draped over the corpse barely hid the damage underneath. Strange black fractures still spread beneath the skin like burned veins frozen in place.
Hina crouched beside the body carefully, pale light glowing faintly around her fingers as she examined the scars again.
"It's getting worse even after death," she whispered.
Kazim adjusted the cracked tablet in his hand. "That shouldn't be possible."
"It isn't," Hina replied quietly.
Monisha remained silent nearby, staring at the corpse with visible unease.
Ever since the man had spoken the name Takahashi, she hadn't looked calm once.
Ren finally broke the silence.
"Did you identify him?"
Kazim nodded slowly. "Sort of."
Everyone looked at him.
He pulled up a damaged file projected from the tablet. The image flickered repeatedly before stabilizing into a blurred identification profile.
"His name was Daichi Sumeragi," Kazim said. "Work designation: Dr. Elian. Research Division clearance level seven."
Aira frowned. "Research division for what?"
"That's the problem." Kazim looked disturbed. "There's no listed department. Entire sections of his records were erased."
"Academy cleanup?" Ren asked.
"No." Kazim's expression tightened. "Older than that."
Kiyoto looked down at the dead man again.
"He knew our surname."
Monisha crossed her arms tightly. "Not just knew it. He was terrified of it."
The rain strengthened briefly, tapping softly against rooftops around them.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then one of the workers approached carefully from the nearby road.
He was older, one of the rescued civilians from Academy 5. His beard was streaked gray, his hands rough from years of labor.
"Excuse me," he said hesitantly.
Kazim turned toward him. "What is it?"
The man held up a small object wrapped carefully in cloth.
"We found this in his pocket while preparing the burial."
Kiyoto took it.
A calendar.
And a family photograph.
The paper was old, water-damaged, torn around the edges. The photo showed a smiling woman and two children standing beside Daichi beneath blooming trees.
But it was the date printed across the top of the calendar that froze the air in Kiyoto's lungs.
YEAR 2847
Aira blinked slowly. "What…"
Ren frowned immediately. "That's impossible."
"It gets worse," the older man said quietly.
He gestured behind him.
Three more people stepped forward.
Each carrying calendars.
Different styles.
Different printing.
Different years.
Silence swallowed the group whole.
Kazim stared at them in disbelief. "Where did these come from?"
The old worker hesitated.
"…People have been using them for years."
Everyone turned sharply toward him.
"What?" Monisha asked.
The man shifted uncomfortably beneath their stares.
"Not openly. Mostly older survivors. Some engineers too. We thought maybe it was some academy system we didn't understand."
Another woman stepped forward nervously.
"My family used dates like these too," she admitted softly. "They used to say it had already been centuries since the first portal opened."
Kazim's expression darkened instantly.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no…"
He grabbed one of the calendars and flipped through the pages rapidly.
The paper wasn't ancient.
It was recently manufactured.
Kiyoto felt something cold settle slowly into his spine.
"Explain," he said quietly.
Kazim looked up.
And for the first time in a long while—
He looked afraid.
"We assumed the academies advanced quickly because of portal resources," he said slowly. "Alien materials. Crystal technology. Forced evolution after the collapse."
"But?" Ren pressed.
Kazim swallowed once.
"But technology doesn't advance this far in twenty years."
Nobody interrupted him.
His hands moved shakily across the tablet, pulling up old bunker records recovered from destroyed academy systems.
Two locations appeared.
BUNKER-06
BUNKER-13
Kiyoto's eyes narrowed immediately.
Their bunkers.
"The places we used to survive the portals," Monisha whispered.
Kazim nodded faintly.
"There were always inconsistencies in the records," he said. "Missing timelines. Corrupted clocks. Impossible construction gaps."
He looked down at the calendars again.
"I think I know why."
Rain rolled softly across the rooftops as he continued.
"When the portals first stabilized on Earth, awakened abilities started appearing randomly. Most were weak. Elemental manipulation. Enhanced senses. Physical reinforcement."
His fingers stopped over two classified files.
"But some powers were… different."
The screens flickered.
Two child profiles appeared.
TWINS
STATUS: DECEASED
ABILITY CLASSIFICATION: TEMPORAL DISTORTION
Aira stared at the files. "Time powers…? What are the odds?"
Kazim nodded slowly.
"One was inside Bunker-06."
Kiyoto's bunker.
"The other was inside Bunker-13."
Monisha's.
Nobody moved.
Kazim zoomed further into the report.
"The twins awakened during the first collapse event. Their abilities activated under extreme stress."
"How strong were they?" Ren asked quietly.
Kazim's voice lowered.
"Strong enough to break time itself."
A cold silence spread through the group.
"Their powers synchronized unintentionally," he continued. "Instead of affecting a person… they affected the environments around them."
The screen displayed distorted timestamps.
00:00:01
00:01:00
01:00:00
Monisha realized it first.
Her face paled.
"One second…" she whispered.
Kazim nodded.
"Inside those bunkers, one second became almost one year externally."
Nobody breathed.
"The distortion lasted approximately eight hundred seconds before the twins lost consciousness."
Aira's eyes widened. "That means…"
"Eight hundred years," Kazim finished quietly.
The world suddenly felt very small.
Kiyoto stared blankly at the rain falling into the dirt.
Eight hundred years.
While they lived underground believing only days had passed…
The outside world had transformed.
Civilizations rose.
Collapsed.
Adapted.
Power systems evolved.
Technology advanced beyond imagination.
The academies weren't built quickly.
They inherited eight centuries of hidden progress.
Ren slowly sat against a wooden post nearby. "That's impossible…"
"No," Kazim said quietly. "It explains everything."
He pulled up more records.
Advanced resonance engineering.
Crystal-reactive metals.
Portal mapping systems.
Military architecture.
Artificial energy circulation.
All developed during the missing centuries.
"The people connected to those bunkers experienced accelerated evolution," Kazim explained. "Entire generations mastering their powers while the rest of the world barely moved forward."
Monisha frowned suddenly. "Generations?"
Kazim nodded.
"Time moved normally for them internally."
The realization hit like a hammer.
Families.
Children.
Training.
Wars.
Societies.
Entire bloodlines evolving in isolation.
Then when the distortion ended—
Only minutes had passed for Kiyoto and Monisha.
Kiyoto felt sick.
"That means the academies…" he muttered.
"Were founded by people who had already mastered awakened abilities," Kazim replied.
Aira looked disturbed. "Then why hide it?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Because deep down—
They already knew.
Kazim slowly opened another classified file.
This one was heavily corrupted.
Most names had been erased.
But one section remained readable.
BLACK CLASSIFICATION SUBJECTS
STATUS: TERMINATED
TERMINATED
TERMINATED
TERMINATED
The list continued endlessly.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Then finally:
LAST CONFIRMED ELIMINATION:
702 YEARS AGO
Ren frowned. "Black?"
Kiyoto felt his chest tighten instinctively.
Kazim looked at him carefully.
"The academies categorized awakened abilities by resonance type," he explained. "Elemental. Spatial. Biological."
His finger stopped over the blacked-out section.
"And Black."
The rain suddenly felt colder.
"No detailed records survived," Kazim continued quietly. "Only fragments."
A corrupted image appeared briefly on-screen.
A figure surrounded by dark resonance.
Reality warped violently around them.
Then static consumed the image.
Kazim's voice lowered further.
"According to surviving files… Black resonance wasn't considered a power."
He looked directly at Kiyoto.
"It was considered a threat to existence itself."
Silence.
Monisha's expression hardened slowly. "What could it do?"
Kazim hesitated.
Then finally:
"It was called the absolute resonance."
The air itself seemed heavier.
"Black users had no fixed limits," Kazim continued quietly. "They could develop multiple abilities. Adapt endlessly. Evolve faster than any other awakened."
He paused.
"The first Black nearly drove the early military factions to extinction."
Nobody spoke.
"The academies hunted every known Black user after that," he continued. "Systematically. Entire bloodlines erased."
Aira looked horrified. "All because they were dangerous?"
Kazim gave a hollow laugh.
"No."
His eyes shifted toward Kiyoto.
"Because they were uncontrollable."
Kiyoto's fists tightened unconsciously.
"The last confirmed Black user died over seven hundred years ago," Kazim said softly.
Another silence followed.
Then:
"That makes Kiyoto…"
"The only remaining Black," Monisha finished quietly.
Far away in the forests surrounding Mongula, creatures began shrieking again.
Long.
Uneasy.
As if something sleeping beneath the world had just opened one eye.
Kiyoto looked down at his own hands.
At the faint black residue barely visible beneath his skin.
And for the first time—
He understood why the academies feared him before they even knew his name.