The grind never stopped.
The gym smelled like iron and sweat and desperation, a perfect reflection of this world. Machines clanged. Rubber soles slapped against the floor. Every thump was a heartbeat of proof that the weak didn't survive. Not here. Not anywhere.
Another day. Another set of brutal exercises. Another reminder that this world didn't give handouts to the weak.
I wiped the sweat off my face and glared at the pull-up bar like it owed me a life debt. It didn't. My problems were bigger, systemic, personified by an all-seeing, all-knowing AI with a fondness for keeping people small: GAIA. Still, for the next hour, that bar would do.
"Endure this if you want to be strong," I muttered, gripping the cold metal. Not a pep talk. A warning branded into my skull: weakness was dead weight.
Arms flamed. Fingers trembled. Every pull-up was rebellion—not against physics, but against the invisible shackles GAIA had stamped onto my life. The world ran on strength, and I had none. Not yet.
But I would.
An hour later, I stumbled out, muscles quivering, skin slick with sweat. Pain radiated through me, sharp and glorious. I was still fighting. Still grinding. Still alive.
The Codebreaker HUD pinged. My eyes flicked down.
[Rewards Tallied.]
+12 STR
6 Gacha Spins
1000 GED
A smirk tugged at my lips. Tangible proof. Not much, but enough. Enough to know that effort mattered.
I scanned my stats:
Noah Adler
Class: Technomancer (Unique)
Rank: C
Talent: Technical Specialist
DA: 65 EA: 70
STR: 73 INT: 77 WIL: 82 AGI: 62 END: 68 LCK: 10
I froze, staring at the screen.
Rank C.
Not D. Not provisional. Actual, legitimate, undeniable Rank C.
The reality sank in slowly, a quiet buzz of pride filling my chest. It wasn't just the number—it was what it represented. The grind was paying off. I wasn't just clawing my way forward; I was starting to leave a mark. I opened Codebreaker and checked my REAL stats.
Noah Adler
Class: Technomancer (Unique)
Rank: EX
Node: Level 2
Talent: Hacker
DA: MAX EA: MAX
STR: 85 INT: MAX WIL: MAX AGI: MAX END: MAX LCK: 10
A bump in STR I expected. But the Node marker glimmered faintly. Level 2. My heart stuttered. Node?
Beneath my rank, a new marker glimmered faintly in the corner of the HUD:
[Level 2 Node Active.]
I blinked, my mind racing. What the hell was a "Node"?
And then it clicked.
The thought churned in my mind, fracturing the assumptions I'd held about the system's rank.
Every rank wasn't a singular summit. SSS, SS, S, A, B… they all had layers. Two S-ranked people could be worlds apart, their true power hidden in nodes.
Of course. It made sense. Raw stats didn't tell the full story—nodes did. Each unlocked node was a multiplier, a hidden tier of strength, skill, influence… and risk.
The hierarchy wasn't just vertical—it was layered. Deep. Concealed in plain sight.
I tapped the HUD. "Codebreaker, max nodes per rank?"
The skull pulsed, the response flashing in clean white letters:
[Max nodes: 15]
So GAIA kept the nodes secret, but Codebreaker didn't.
More nodes meant more power. More influence. More danger.
And now I had a taste.
I stared at the flashing "Level 2 Node" notification, the implications settling like a lead weight in my chest. If my combat strength—my potential—depended on nodes, then Apex-level wasn't a finish line. It was the starting gate.
"Well, shit," I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. "To think that I'm at the peak of power. Turns out it's the low level of the peak."
This wasn't just about surviving GAIA's game anymore. If I wanted to truly stand at the top—to defy GAIA, to protect Damian and Brixley—I'd need every node. Every single one.
I stretched against a lamppost outside the gym, letting the night wind cool my aching limbs. Strength wasn't the only stat climbing. Agility. Endurance. Even luck crept upward. Codebreaker wasn't just a tool. It was a rewriting of me from the inside out.
And I wasn't complaining.
My gaze hardened, locked onto the glowing Node marker. "Alright, Codebreaker," I muttered, my voice laced with determination. "Let's see how far we can push this."
My gaze drifted back to the glowing Gacha Spins. A tempting promise of power, dangling just out of reach.
Should I save them? Be cautious?
I laughed under my breath, shaking my head. "Yeah, that's not happening."
With a flick of my fingers, I unlocked the Gacha system.
[Initiating Gacha Rewards…]
[Available Spins: 12]
The wheel spun, a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes blurring into a chaotic frenzy. My heart raced with every turn, anticipation coiling in my gut. The rewards weren't just about utility—they were symbols of possibility, of hope.
[You've Received:]
[Summon Drone Rogue: C Rank – Stealth reconnaissance drone. Cooldown: 15 minutes.]
[Summon EMP Grenade: B Rank – Disables electronic systems in a small area.]
[1 Free Pass: C Rank – Access to C Rank training facility for 2 hours.]
"Not bad," I muttered, my grin widening. The drone and EMP grenade were solid enough. Practical. But nothing life-changing.
I spun again.
[You've Received:]
[Mecha Suit Summon: B Rank – Mechanized combat suit for enhanced defense and offense. Cooldown: 30 minutes.]
[Electromagnetic Barrier (Passive): C Rank – Blocks minor attacks.]
[Electrostatic Pulse (Active): B Rank – Disables nearby technology. Cooldown: 25 minutes.]
Now we were talking. A mech suit and a barrier? That was progress.
But a flicker at the edge of the HUD warned me:
[Codebreaker Warning: High System Stress Detected.]
[Overclocking Risk: 37% – Proceed with caution.]
A jolt hit my head. Vision flickered. My pulse spiked. The black-and-green overlay shimmered violently.
No turning back.
I spun again.
[Upgrading Copied Skills and Items…]
[System Access: Partial]
[Overclocking Active: Potential Codebreaker Latency]
Wait—what?
My heart skipped. Already the cost of pushing the system was showing. Fingers trembling, I watched as the rewards upgraded—but not without warning:
[Summon Drone Swarm: EX Rank – Deploys multiple drones for attack and defense. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
[Summon EMP Barrage: EX Rank – Disables entire systems. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
[Mecha Suit Summon: EX Rank – Enhanced combat and defense capabilities. Cooldown: 30 minutes.]
[Electromagnetic Barrier (Passive): EX Rank – Nearly impenetrable shield. No cooldown.]
[Electrostatic Pulse (Active): EX Rank – High-impact disabling attack. Cooldown: 10 seconds.]
EX Rank. All of it.
This wasn't just an upgrade. It was a cheat code. A game-breaking, reality-altering cheat code.
I stared at the list, my mind racing with possibilities. This was power—real power. The kind GAIA tried to keep out of reach.
Then the real cost hit.
The skull icon pulsed violently. My HUD lagged—numbers flickered, my vision doubled, a migraine crawling behind my eyes. The air around me felt heavy, buzzing with static.
[Codebreaker Alert: Neural Feedback Detected. Potential cognitive strain.]
The system had rewarded me… and punished me. A trade-off, sharp and immediate.
My pulse thundered. Power was in my hands—but it wasn't free.
I swallowed. The adrenaline in my veins tangled with sharp, electric fear. But the rewards were too good to ignore.
"Alright," I muttered, grit grinding in my teeth. "Let's see how far this rabbit hole goes."
I spun again.
[Overclocking Level: 2/5]
[Randomized Risk Factor Activated]
This time, the system blinked in protest, forcing me to reroute energy through Codebreaker's fail-safes. My head throbbed, my fingers shook, but the list of upgrades solidified, glowing like a promise—and a threat.
Power and danger, intertwined. Perfectly balanced.
I leaned back against the lamppost outside the gym, letting the night wind cut through my sweat. Strength, skill, and resources weren't handed to me—they were won, purchased with risk, earned in sweat and electric pain.
A ping from my comm device yanked me back. Damian's name flashed.
"Hey, Noah," his voice cracked, tension underneath. "Got a minute?"
"Yeah, what's going on?" I asked, instantly alert.
"Tower mission tomorrow. Guardian level. Bigger than expected."
My stomach dropped. Guardian level. Death sentence without the courtesy of warning.
"Why the hell are they sending you?" I snapped. "You're barely B Rank."
"No one else will go," Damian said bitterly. "Money's good, Noah. We need it—for you and Brix."
The words hit like a hammer. He wasn't just risking his life. He was offering it for us.
"Don't do it," I said, voice low. "I'll find another way to help."
"Noah," he cut me off, weary but firm. "This is my choice. Just… hold the fort, alright?"
The line went dead.
********
I stood at the window, city lights smeared like molten silver beneath the towers, unyielding sentinels shrouded in mist. Somewhere out there, Damian walked into hell.
A new notification blinked. HUD, glowing in the room's darkness:
[New Mission: Protect the Tower Guardian.]
Objective: Prevent tower breach.
Reward: 1 EX Skill.
Failure: Destruction of your world.
[Do you accept? Y/N]
Guardian level. My chest tightened as Damian's name buzzed again on my comm.
Something was very, very wrong.