The timer hung at the edge of my vision like a digital guillotine. 17:42:13. Seventeen hours, forty-two minutes, thirteen seconds. Twelve. Eleven. The countdown to my probable death.
I'd heard about pre-Awakening symptoms—headaches, disorientation, strange dreams—but nobody mentioned a fucking doomsday clock appearing in your field of vision. The stolen Academy preparation manual said nothing about this. Another privilege the elite kept to themselves.
The numbers glowed faint purple against whatever I looked at. Almost translucent but impossible to ignore once you noticed them. Like knowing there's a spider somewhere in your room.
17:41:59.
I rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Miri. Our apartment in Scar Bottom barely qualified as shelter—one bedroom shared between the three of us, a bathroom with intermittent water, and a kitchen area with counters salvaged from a demolished restaurant. Home sweet home.
The floor creaked beneath my feet. Mom slept on the fold-out couch, her breathing ragged from years of core dust exposure. The processing plant claimed their filtration systems were top-grade, but everyone knew Depths workers got the expired filters from Core District facilities. Cheaper to replace workers than equipment.
17:40:22.
I splashed water on my face and stared at my reflection. Same old Amon—unruly black hair with those weird silver streaks I'd had since fourteen, amber eyes that looked too intense. Nothing in my appearance suggested I might be dead tomorrow.
I dressed quickly—worn jeans, faded t-shirt, and Dad's blue jacket. My fingers brushed the hidden pocket where I kept his Hunter ID. Technically illegal for me to have it, but the Aspect Security Division had bigger problems than a dead C-rank's memorabilia.
17:35:06.
Mom stirred as I entered the main room. She looked older than her thirty-eight years, hair prematurely gray, skin pale from working night shifts underground.
"You're up early," she murmured.
"Delivery run for Teller's." I kept my voice casual. "Double pay for morning shifts."
"You work too hard."
"Says the woman with two jobs."
She smiled faintly. "There's protein paste in the cabinet."
"Already ate." I hadn't, but protein paste tasted like desperation and chemicals.
"Take care today. Gate alert for the Eastern sector."
"E-rank at most." I shrugged. "They'll have it contained before noon."
She nodded, already drifting back to sleep. If she knew about the timer, she'd insist on taking me to a Resonance Clinic. We couldn't afford the fees, and I didn't trust the system that let Dad die.
17:30:41.
Outside, Scar Bottom greeted me with its usual charm—crumbling concrete, makeshift dwellings built into the ravine walls, and the ever-present smell of damp and core waste. The Scar Channels carved through the city after the Cascade Breach, leaving these canyons that the elite conveniently found perfect for segregating the poor.
Blue veins of core energy pulsed through conduits overhead, feeding power to the wealthier districts while we got the scraps. I followed one with my eyes as it snaked toward the distant silhouette of Aspect Tower. Two hundred twenty-five floors of gleaming arrogance.
17:25:13.
First stop: Teller's Kitchen. Not for a delivery run but to see the old man himself. If anyone knew about abnormal Awakening signs, it would be Teller.
The restaurant occupied the ground floor of a pre-Severance building. Inside, Teller chopped vegetables, his right arm a core-powered prosthetic from his Hunter days.
"The dead walk," he grunted without looking up. "You're never here this early."
"Special occasion." I leaned against the counter. "Need information."
"Information costs."
I pulled out a small C-rank core fragment—payment from my last courier job for the Veil Syndicate.
Teller's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous game, kid."
"When isn't it?" I placed the fragment on the cutting board. "What do you know about countdown timers during pre-Awakening?"
The knife stilled. Teller's expression hardened.
"Where'd you hear about that?"
"Around."
"Bullshit."
"I'm seeing one." No point lying to Teller. "Purple numbers, top right corner of my vision. About seventeen hours left."
He cursed, switching to an old pre-Severance language I didn't recognize. Finally, he pocketed the core fragment.
"How long have you had resonance symptoms?"
"Three weeks. Started with headaches, then shadow dreams."
"And you didn't go to a clinic because..."
"Because I'm broke."
17:18:42.
Teller sighed. "The timer's rare. Only appears in high-potential candidates. Very high."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning most people who see it don't survive the Awakening. Too much power, too fast."
I kept my face neutral. "But some do."
"Some. Those with proper preparation or exceptional mental resilience."
"What happens when it hits zero?"
"Domain immersion. Full Awakening attempt. No gradual transition like they do at the academies."
"Survival rate?"
Teller hesitated. "For unprepared Depths kids? Maybe ten percent."
Worse than I expected, better than I feared.
"Any advice?"
"Get to a Ghost Academy. Now. The Veil runs three in the Spillway."
I shook my head. "Too far. Not enough time."
"Then find somewhere isolated when it gets close. Awakening can be... destructive to surroundings."
Great. Not only might I die, but I could take out half the neighborhood too.
17:12:08.
"Thanks, Teller."
The city was waking up. Undertube trains rumbled beneath my feet. Workers in gray uniforms headed toward the Core Drain where shuttles would take them to processing plants. ASD patrol drones hummed overhead, scanning for unregistered gates.
17:05:31.
I needed to make arrangements, just in case. First, Miri's school fees for the next semester. I'd saved enough, but the money needed to be accessible to Mom if I wasn't around.
The unlicensed bank operated from a converted shipping container in Ghost Market. No questions asked, no identity verification. Perfect for Depths residents with something to hide—which was all of us.
"Angelo." The operator, a heavyset woman with scanner implants where her eyes should be, recognized me immediately. "Unusual hours for you."
"Unusual day," I replied. "Need to transfer funds to an accessible account. Family emergency."
She didn't ask questions, just processed the transaction. The core-powered terminal hummed as it encrypted the data.
"Done. Anything else?"
16:58:19.
"Nothing. Thanks."
"Stay ghost, Angelo."
16:52:07.
The morning progressed with grim efficiency as I tied up loose ends. I visited Jax at his junk shop to ensure he'd keep an eye on Mom and Miri if necessary. Called in favors from street contacts to establish a protective network. Left messages with the few people I trusted.
By midday, the timer read 11:23:44, and I found myself drawn to the edge of the Basin. From Scar Bottom, you could see the massive crater where Seattle's downtown once stood, now converted into parks and training facilities for the elite. The Colosseum rose from its center like a modern Roman arena, where Hunters fought for glory and sponsorships.
Dad took me here once, showed me where he trained. "Remember, Amon," he'd said, "power isn't just about strength. It's about control. The moment you lose control is the moment you lose everything."
11:18:32.
A public viewscreen on a nearby building showed footage from the Aspect Tournament qualifiers. A female Hunter with flame aspects danced through a simulation, incinerating holographic monsters with casual grace. The crowd roared as she executed a particularly complex maneuver.
The announcer's voice boomed: "Another spectacular performance from Dynasty Preparatory's rising star! With aspect manifestation like that, Kiera Mercer is certain to follow in her mother's footsteps!"
Mercer. Daughter of Vivian Mercer, ArcCore's CEO. The same corporation that owned the subsidiary that employed Dad when he died.
I watched her smiling for the cameras, basking in adoration she'd done nothing to earn beyond being born to the right family. Ninety-five percent survival rate for elite Awakening candidates. Ten percent for kids like me.
The system wasn't broken. It was functioning exactly as designed.
08:42:13.
I spent the afternoon in Motion, a mid-tier Domain Trance Club in the Outer Ring where I sometimes played cards. The owner owed me for information that kept ASD off his back last month. He didn't ask questions when I requested use of the isolation room—designed for Awakened who needed privacy for aspect practice.
"Core-lined walls," he explained, leading me downstairs. "Dampens external resonance and contains internal discharge. Used to be a vault before the Cascade Breach."
"How long can I have it?"
"Till closing. After that, I need it for a private client."
Perfect. If the timer hit zero before then, I'd be contained. If not, I'd go somewhere remote.
"Thanks, Dez. We're square now."
He nodded, eyes lingering on me curiously before leaving.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, practicing the mental exercises from the stolen Academy manual. Breath control. Visualization. Reinforcing mental barriers. Probably useless without proper training, but better than nothing.
05:36:22.
As evening approached, I left Motion and headed home. The timer now felt like a physical weight, pressing against my skull. Occasional pulses of pain shot through my temples, and twice I noticed something rippling oddly when no one was looking.
The Depths grew more dangerous after dark. Gate monsters weren't the only predators. I kept to the shadows, avoiding ASD patrols and street gangs with equal caution.
03:12:47.
Home smelled like cheap synth-rice and cleaning solvent. Mom had scrubbed the apartment again—her way of fighting against our circumstances. No matter how poor we were, she insisted on cleanliness.
Miri sat at our small table, schoolwork projected above a salvaged holopad. Her face lit up when she saw me.
"Amon! Look what I made!" She pulled up a simulation of cellular division, manipulated to form a complex pattern. "Ms. Ellington says I have natural talent for bioengineering!"
"That's amazing, squirt." I ruffled her hair. "Keep it up and you'll be designing new filtration systems for the processing plants."
"Ew, no." She made a face. "I want to work on medical applications. Like fixing Mom's lungs."
"You will," I promised. "You'll fix everything."
Mom emerged from the bathroom, wiping her hands on a towel. The dark circles under her eyes had deepened, but she smiled.
"There's food if you're hungry."
"Thanks." I wasn't hungry, but I ate anyway. The bland rice, the protein substitute pretending to be fish, even the slightly metallic taste of our filtered water. I'm gonna miss this.
02:43:05.
We talked about normal things. Miri's school. Mom's shift rotation. The neighbor's new core-powered heating unit that kept shorting out the building's power. I memorized every detail—the way Miri gestured when excited, how Mom's laugh still sounded genuine despite everything, the small patch of mold in the corner we could never quite eliminate.
01:21:33.
"You're quiet tonight," Mom said as Miri prepared for bed.
"Just tired." I forced a smile. "Long day."
She studied me with the intensity that always made me wonder if she could see through my lies.
"You look like your father when you're thinking hard."
"Poor Dad."
She laughed softly. "He'd be proud of you, Amon. How you've taken care of us."
"I haven't done much."
"You've done everything." She touched my cheek. "More than any child should have to."
00:48:12.
Miri emerged in her nightclothes, an oversized shirt with a faded Hunter Guild logo—another of Dad's relics.
"Amon, will you tell me about the First Awakening again?"
A bedtime story about apocalypse. Only in New Vein.
"Sure." I sat on the edge of our shared bed. "Two hundred years ago, the first Gate appeared over Tokyo. For three days, nothing happened. Then monsters poured out, killing thousands."
"But then Haruto Mizuki awakened!"
"That's right. He was just a teenager, but something inside him connected to what we now call the Domain. He manifested barriers of light, moved faster than humanly possible, and fought the monsters. He saved countless lives, but..."
"The power was too much," Miri finished solemnly. "He burned from within."
"But before he died, he told others about the Domain—a place in the mind where aspects could be chosen. His sacrifice showed humanity how to fight back."
00:32:17.
I tucked her in, conscious of each passing minute.
"Sleep well, squirt."
"You too, Amon. Love you."
"Love you too."
Mom waited by the fold-out couch. I hugged her tightly, breathing in the scent of industrial soap and the faint metallic tang of core dust that never quite washed away.
"Goodnight, Mom."
"Goodnight, sweetie."
00:15:43.
I lay in bed beside Miri, listening to her breathing steady into sleep. The timer continued its relentless countdown. I'd done everything I could. Made sure my meager life insurance policy listed them as beneficiaries. Left instructions with trusted contacts. Prepared as much as possible for my own Awakening.
00:05:22.
I silently recited the Depths prayer: Not for glory, not for wealth, just the strength to see tomorrow.
00:01:08.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. In the darkness behind my eyelids, shadows seemed to move with purpose.
00:00:30.
Dad's voice in memory: "Control the game, don't let it control you."
00:00:10.
00:00:09.
00:00:08.
I felt a strange pulling sensation, as if gravity had shifted ninety degrees.
00:00:03.
00:00:02.
00:00:01.
00:00:00.
The world fell away. Light erupted beneath me—not from the floor but from reality itself, a gate opening where no gate should be. I plummeted through, surrounded by brilliant purple radiance that seared my vision yet somehow didn't hurt.
A voice that was everywhere and nowhere, inside and outside my mind, spoke with mechanical precision:
[WELCOME, AMON ANGELO, TO THE DOMAIN INTERFACE SYSTEM. INITIATING ASPECT COMPATIBILITY ANALYSIS. PLEASE REMAIN CALM AS YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS IS PROCESSED.]
The light swallowed me whole, and New Vein disappeared.