The annual Selection Program was about to commence.
Outside the high school gymnasium, clusters of students murmured with anticipation. Standing rigidly at the entrance and exits, members of the Exterminator Order—clad in their imposing black uniforms—kept a watchful eye.
As the gates opened, students streamed in, some exchanging eager whispers. Those who had triumphed in the rigorous evaluation test now stand before diverging paths, one that will shape their future. Today would be the day they would finally claim their shifted weapons.
The school bell tolled, its resounding chime echoing through the campus. More students poured in, filing into the gymnasium in disciplined clusters. Soon, the space was a sea of uniforms, the air thick with murmurs and restless anticipation.
A sudden tap against the microphone sent a sharp crackle through the speakers and all eyes turned towards the stage as the school principal took a breath, his voice steady yet commanding.
"Attention, students. The annual Selection Program will begin shortly. Please take your seats and maintain silence."
Moments passed, stretching into a suspenseful lull—until the weight of presence filled the air. A tall, imposing man strode onto the stage, his fur-lined coat billowing ever so slightly as he moved. A geonite prosthetic gleamed on his forearm, humming faintly with energy.
For a fleeting second, silence reigned, but then, the man's grip tightened around the microphone, his expression unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, he spoke—not in a cold voice like one would expect, but with an oddly soothing cadence.
"A great morning to all," he began. "Today, we gather to honor those who have pushed beyond their limits—to bear witness to their awakening."
His gaze swept over the crowd, sharp yet brimming with a quiet pride.
"My highest respects go to the eighteen students who excelled in both physical and resonance evaluations. This year, we celebrate eight more awakenings than the last. A testament to your unwavering dedication."
He raised a hand, gesturing towards the stage.
"Will the eighteen awakened students please step forward? Take your seats—we shall now begin the distribution of your rightful rewards. Let us give them a round of applause."
The gymnasium erupted into claps with proud faces in the audience, some envious. One by one, the awakened students rose from their seats, moving towards the stage beneath the glow of the overhead spotlights.
And yet, among them, there was one seat—isolated at the back—left conspicuously empty.
"Huh? Is someone missing?" a student whispered.
"Maybe they just put out an extra chair?"
"Why would they do that, you idiot?"
Another student scoffed before pausing, realization dawning on him.
"Wait... Oh. Right. I forgot about him."
Meanwhile, Somewhere in the Suburbs...
Zen lay sprawled across his bed, lost in the depths of the most blissful sleep of his life. Even while sleeping, the stupid grin stretched across his face told more than enough. He squirmed around and stretched his limbs languidly in his sleep.
Then—thud!
With a startled yelp, he tumbled off the bed, smacking headfirst onto the solid floor.
"Ugghhh… Damn, that hurts..."
Groggily rubbing his eyes, he groped around for his phone, his fingers fumbling across the wooden nightstand before finally gripping the device. Still half-lidded with sleep, he lazily checked the screen.
"What time is it…?"
Then—he froze.
His pupils shrank. A twitch. A sharp inhale. And then—
"OH, SHIT!"
Zen bolted upright, his entire body surging into motion. His brain barely processed what was happening as he sprung his feet off the floor and sprinted frantically around his room, throwing on his uniform in record speed.
"Why now of all times?! And why the hell did no one wake me up?!"
Still shoving his arms into his sleeves, he grabbed his school bag, threw open the front door, and leaped onto his bicycle. An egg sandwich dangled between his teeth as he pedaled furiously, each rotation of the wheels churning the air with desperation.
But then—disaster struck.
A long, unmoving line of traffic stretched before him, an impenetrable blockade of honking vehicles. Zen yanked on the brakes, nearly toppling over.
"Are you kidding me?!" he groaned, gripping his hair in frustration. "Rush hour?! NOW?!"
Up ahead, a security officer raised a megaphone, his voice crackling through the speakers.
"Attention, citizens. Due to ongoing construction following yesterday's chasm incident, this road is currently inaccessible. Please take an alternative route."
Zen's eye twitched. His teeth ground together.
"Screw this."
With a sharp inhale, he kicked off the ground, gripping the handlebars tight. His gaze locked onto a narrow alleyway to the side. It was risky—reckless, even—but he was out of options.
Twisting the handlebars, he veered off course, weaving through the tight passage. Garbage bins, stray crates, loose cables—none of it slowed him down. He pushed harder, his lungs burning, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Then—he saw it.
A wooden ramp.
Zen's lips curled into a grin.
"Heh. Jackpot."
Legs pumping, he launched himself toward the incline, hitting the peak at full speed. The bike soared. Time stretched into a brief, weightless moment.
And then—
THUD.
Zen's body slammed unceremoniously onto the sidewalk, sprawled out like a crumpled paper bag.
"...That went a lot smoother in my head," he muttered blankly.
Dazed, he lifted his gaze—and there it was. The school gate.
Shaking off the fall, he hoisted up his bike, dusted himself off, and sprinted inside.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he finally reached the gymnasium doors. A smirk tugged at his lips.
"Time for a grand entrance."
With dramatic flair, he kicked open the doors.
"Heya! Sorry for being la—"
Zen's words died in his throat.
The gymnasium was empty.
The only people inside were janitors, already stacking chairs in the far corner.
An old custodian glanced up, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, kid. What're you doin' here? The program ended thirty minutes ago."
Zen stood frozen, devastation washing over him like a collapsing dam.
"...Program. Ended. Thirty. Minutes. Ago."
His soul left his body.
Then a voice from behind grabbed his attention, his head turned towards the direction.
Zen stood frozen, devastation washing over him like a collapsing dam. His head drooped, his soul seemingly seeping out of his very being.
Then—
"Took you long enough, dumbass."
Zen turned his head just in time to see Vivian approaching from behind, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face. Her long velvet hair billowed slightly as she strode toward him, the insignia of the Exterminator Order gleaming on her chest.
Zen let out a dramatic sigh, "Go ahead, rip me apart. I deserve it."
Vivian raised a brow. "Oh, don't worry, I plan to."
Before Zen could react, a sharp flick landed right between his eyes.
"Ow! Dude, what the hell?! what was that for??" Zen flinched, rubbing his forehead.
"That's for showing up late, idiot," her voice laced with disdain and a disappointed expression on her face.
"You missed the official Selection. Everyone's already been assigned their weapons, and you were too busy drooling in a ditch somewhere."
Zen groaned, dramatically slumping forward.
"I knew it. I should just retire now. Give up on life. Maybe open a bakery in the mountains… I could be like one of those guys tha—"
Vivian pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You've been here for all of five seconds, and you're already giving me a migraine."
Zen peered up at her with the most pitiful expression he could muster.
"You don't understand, Viv. I had one job. One. And I blew it."
Vivian let out an exaggerated sigh, reaching into her coat.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Lucky for you…"
She pulled out a sleek black card, flicking it into Zen's chest. The latter barely managed to catch it before fumbling it like an idiot.
Zen blinked. "Wait. Is this—"
Vivian smirked. "A private appointment with the Exterminator Order. You're welcome."
Zen's jaw nearly hit the floor. "You got me an extra chance?! Holy shit, Viv, I could kiss you."
Vivian took a slow, threatening step back though a blush crept up her neck.
"Try it and you're losing teeth."
Zen grinned, his despair now completely forgotten.
"Man, you really are the best, y'know that?"
Vivian rolled her eyes, already walking away. "Yeah, yeah. Now get your ass moving before I change my mind."
Zen pumped a fist into the air. "Alright! Seriously I owe you one Viv! "
Vivian didn't even look back. "For the love of God, shut up."
Zen pedaled through the streets like a man possessed, his legs burning, his heart pounding with exhilaration. The black card in his pocket felt like a divine artifact, a second chance at glory.
But, as fate would have it, the universe wasn't going to make this easy for him.
First—a rogue alley cat darted into his path.
"GAH—MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" Zen yelled, swerving violently to avoid it.
His bike veered too far left, nearly colliding with a garbage bin, forcing him into a desperate side jump. He landed on his feet, his bike not so lucky. It tumbled down the street, crashing into a stack of wooden crates.
Zen groaned. "Okay… first hurdle cleared. Moving on."
After retrieving his slightly dented bicycle, he took off again.
The second obstacle? The bridge shortcut was closed.
A public security officer stood there, waving a red flag. "Bridge repairs in progress! Take another route!"
Zen gritted his teeth. "Oh, come ON."
With no other choice, he detoured through a crowded marketplace, weaving between merchants and civilians. The scent of freshly grilled meat and spices tempted his stomach, but he had no time to waste.
Just as he thought he was in the clear—BAM!
A kid accidentally tripped into his path.
Zen's reflexes kicked in, and he jerked the handlebars, sending himself crashing straight into a fruit stall.
The vendor's eyes widened in horror as oranges, apples, and a singular, very aggressive watermelon rained down upon them both.
Zen coughed, a pineapple lodged in his armpit. "My bad, mister! Here—uh—payment for damages!" He shoved a few bills into the man's hands before bolting again.
Sweaty, disheveled, and looking like he had survived a minor natural disaster, Zen finally arrived at the Exterminator Order's headquarters.
A massive, monolithic building towered before him, its obsidian walls reflecting the golden hues of the late afternoon sun.
He exhaled sharply, stepping forward.
Each stride echoed in his ears. His fingers twitched slightly, still gripping the black card.
The moment he had been waiting for. The chance to claim his destiny.
Zen stood before the grand, imposing doors of the Exterminator Order.
With one last deep breath, he reached for the handle.
Then—
The doors creaked open before he could even touch them.
A shadow loomed from within.
A pair of piercing, inhuman eyes locked onto him.
And then—
A voice. Low. Measured. Unmistakably powerful.
"You're late."