The sky hung low, cloaked in a lifeless gray. The clouds above Sector 13 looked like they were pressing down on the world, trying to choke the last breath out of whatever dared to survive.
Among the rubble of cracked streets and rusted neon signs sat a teenage boy—his jacket torn, his scarf caked with dust, and his skin marked with faded lines scientists once called "failure tags."
His name was Sematsu.
He stared into his hand, where only three bits rested—crumpled, half-torn digital currency chips that meant almost nothing in the lower zones. Barely enough for a half bowl of stew, definitely not a full meal. Still, there was no fear in his eyes. No shame. Just hunger… and something else. Fire.
He stood up, walked to a small noodle stall—one of the last surviving in the Lower Rim. The steam rising from its pots carried the smell of burnt onion, miso, and a little hope.
"Hey, old man... Can I get anything for three bits?" Sematsu asked, voice low but steady.
The shopkeeper, wrinkled and tired, looked at him. His eyes lingered on the boy's face—the scars, the haunted look.
"You're one of them, aren't you? The Experiment Kids…"
Sematsu didn't respond. Just nodded faintly.
The man sighed. "Eat. But don't expect this kindness every day. Kids like you don't last long."
A small bowl of steaming noodles and fried fish stew slid across the counter. To most, it was nothing. To Sematsu, it was a gift.
He ate in silence, savoring every bite like it was the first real food in days.
Every slurp washed away a bit of emptiness.
"Do you even know what's inside you?" came a soft voice.
He looked up. Standing beside him was a girl—light-footed, sharp-eyed, dressed in the whisper-thin armor of the Skyborn Agents.
Eliya.
Her gaze was piercing, yet calm. The kind that saw things others couldn't.
"Your body isn't just a failure, Sematsu. It's a key. A key that can unlock a new era."
"I didn't ask to be a key," Sematsu replied, voice bitter. "I just wanted to eat."
"You won't have that choice for long. You'll either be the shadow that disappears… or the flame that blinds the world."
He said nothing.
Behind them, the massive golden spires of the World Government's Tower pierced the clouds—glimmering, unreachable. Watching.
Sematsu looked down at his hand. Slowly, his fingers moved.
A spoon floated.
No wires. No tricks.
Just power. Raw, awakening, terrifying.
And as his eyes shimmered faintly—like lightning caught in dusk—Sematsu understood:
This was the beginning.
The moment the world would change.
To be continued...