The slums were louder than usual that morning.
Voices echoed through the narrow alleys—excited, tense, restless.
Sohan noticed it immediately.
Something had changed.
---
"Did you hear? New slots opened."
"Yeah, only a few though…"
"Damn it, I've been waiting months!"
---
Sohan slowed his steps.
Slots?
---
He moved closer, pretending not to listen.
Two men stood near a broken wall, speaking in hushed but eager tones.
"The shelter near Sector B got new access capsules," one said. "Limited entry, first come first serve."
"Lucky bastards… once they get in, their lives change."
---
Sohan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Shelter… capsules…
---
The words clicked instantly.
---
"The Sanctuary…"
---
His heartbeat quickened.
So it was real.
Not just memory.
Not just assumption.
---
This world had already reached that stage.
Humans had access.
And more importantly—
They were competing for it.
---
"One successful hunt inside, and you won't have to rot here anymore," the man continued.
"Or you die in five minutes," the other replied with a snort.
Both laughed.
---
Sohan didn't.
---
They're not wrong.
---
The Sanctuary wasn't a blessing.
It was a filter.
A brutal one.
---
Strong survived.
Weak disappeared.
---
Sohan turned away, his thoughts racing.
---
"This is earlier than I expected…"
---
If access was limited—
Then opportunities were limited.
---
Which meant—
He couldn't wait.
---
Back in his room, Sohan sat down, leaning against the wall.
---
"The outside world is a cage…"
---
No matter how much he scavenged—
No matter how careful he was—
He would never truly grow here.
---
At best—
He would survive.
---
"But I didn't come here to survive…"
---
His gaze hardened.
---
"I came here to rise."
---
The answer was obvious.
---
The Sanctuary.
---
That was where everything began.
---
But—
Sohan frowned slightly.
---
"I'm not ready."
---
His body was still weak.
His control over genes was unstable.
And inside the Sanctuary—
There were no second chances.
---
He closed his eyes.
---
Replayed his recent fights.
His movements.
His breathing.
His control.
---
"…I don't need to be strong."
---
His eyes opened again.
---
"I need to be precise."
---
That was his advantage.
Not strength.
Not speed.
---
Control.
---
If he used it correctly—
Even a weak body could survive.
---
Sohan stood up slowly.
His decision was made.
---
"I'll enter."
---
Not later.
Not after becoming stronger.
---
Now.
---
Because waiting here—
Was the same as dying slowly.
---
He stepped outside.
The alley felt different today.
Not because it had changed—
But because he had.
---
Every step carried purpose.
Every breath felt heavier.
---
The path ahead was dangerous.
Unpredictable.
Brutal.
---
But it was the only path that mattered.
---
As he walked toward Sector B—
Toward the shelter—
Toward the gateway to another world—
---
A faint sensation stirred within him.
---
The Gene Stone.
---
Responding.
---
As if it knew.
---
As if it was waiting for this moment.
---
Sohan's lips curved slightly.
---
"Let's see…"
---
His eyes sharpened.
---
"…what this world really looks like."
---
Ahead of him—
Beyond the broken city—
Beyond the slums—
---
A door existed.
---
Not made of wood or steel.
---
But of something far greater.
---
A door that separated the weak from the strong.
---
A door that decided fate.
---
And Sohan—
Was about to step through it.
---
"Survival ends here."
"Evolution begins beyond this point."