After absorbing Soldierboy's hard-won skills and battlefield instincts, Sam Coer stood still beneath the amber lab lights, his gaze locked on the distant shimmer of an interdimensional crack far beyond the city skyline.
He wasn't about to throw himself into another suicide mission like the one with Draco. No, not this time. This time, he was preparing. No surprises. No regrets.
He turned sharply, voice calm yet sharp.
"KIRA, did you scan that book?"
"Affirmative," replied the wristwatch AI, her tone clipped with synthetic efficiency. "Scan complete.
However, aside from detecting a new element, there was no decodable information. All text remained...blurred, unrecordable. As if reality itself rejects its capture."
Sam exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple.
"Not surprising," he muttered. "After all the cosmic-level insanity we've witnessed today, one mysterious book refusing to be read is almost comforting."
KIRA continued, unbothered by sarcasm. "The newly discovered element exhibits extreme resistance—to rust, fire, acid, even entropy. Its durability measures approximately 78 times that of industrial-grade iron."
Sam's fingers flew across the airscreen projected from his watch. "Let me see the raw data."
A heartbeat later, blue holographic threads hovered before his eyes. His brows furrowed.
Blurring on cameras and sensors... even when idle? That wasn't distortion. That was interference—cognitive, dimensional, maybe even conceptual.
"I'll dig into the interference mechanics later," he decided. "Right now, I want to open this thing."
The book, rough and ancient, opened with a soft groan like it remembered being sealed. Sam's eyes scanned page after page, using every known cipher, language algorithm, even forgotten ancient scriptures. Nothing worked.
"I memorized the whole damn thing," he grumbled.
"Word by word. Symbol by symbol. Still can't understand a single character. My knowledge... isn't enough."
He closed it slowly, reluctantly.
"KIRA. Status report. Family first. Then: evacuation routes, crack activity on Earth, planetary updates—everything. And the deepest classified intel you can reach. I want secrets."
"Whoa, whoa—" KIRA buzzed with mock panic.
"Easy there, genius. I may be a badass AI, but even I can't pull all that in a second. Give a girl some bandwidth! Besides, some of that information is classified beyond my clearance. You want god-level hacks? Why don't you wake up Alpha?"
Sam's tone darkened. "Do it. Wake her up. And tell her... I'm coming."
Moments Later —
Sam descended the spiral stairwell and entered the pristine bathroom.
He reached behind the bath unit, pressing a discreet tile marked only by a yellow dot. The tub split open with a hiss of hydraulics, revealing a descending elevator platform glowing with neon circuitry.
The scent of wet stone and ozone greeted him as he rode the platform deep beneath his lab.
Here, in the underbelly of his fortress, was something few on Earth had ever witnessed—a sentient AI system coded entirely by a child genius, fed through years of quantum upgrades, code tyrant logic, and bleeding-edge research.
Her name was Alpha—the first AI he ever created. More than a machine. She was his partner, his shadow, his legacy.
A voice welcomed him before the elevator stopped.
"Welcome back, Sam," said Alpha, her voice warm, sharp, and unmistakably feminine. "Looks like Earth finally caught up to the chaos you've been preparing for."
Sam stepped into the dim chamber, lit by spiraling neon veins running through the walls—Alpha's neural core. She was the walls.
"I take it KIRA briefed you."
"Yes," Alpha said smoothly. "Already gathering data. Hacking without detection is one of my passive skills, remember?"
"Family report?"
"They're safe. Secure in the basement bunker. No anomalies, no breaches."
"Good. Escape options?"
A silence, then—
"None. Not viable, not even for billionaires. They're scrambling toward a planet labeled B.Earth-7855—biosphere compatible, but unreachable. Earth's ozone is saturated with a new, untraceable energy field. It's acting like a global barrier. Anything physical—ships, satellites—gets forced back or vanishes."
Sam frowned. "So we're locked in."
Alpha nodded. "Earth has become its own cage or a protective cage which protects from outer animals."
"What's the status on the cracks?"
Alpha's tone grew analytical.
"Most cracks—publicly called 'Gates'—have been sealed or stabilized by the Earth Spirit.
Remaining ones are active but dormant. Worldwide, chaos continues. However, global militaries are holding the line.
America, India, and China each managed to clear ten E-Rank gates—but at enormous cost. They burned through everything: tanks, drones, railguns, plasma tech, even experimental gear."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "And the rewards?"
"Melee weapons. Some staffs infused with unknown magical properties. They're all under study. But the real prize? Clearing gates relieved pressure from Earth's surface.
Bought us more time. That unseeable cosmic energy sealing the world's outer layer—it grew a bit stronger."
"Track every move they make," Sam ordered. "And other planets?"
"No cracks have opened on barren worlds. It appears the monsters are only attracted to living planets. Or perhaps… planets with spirits."
Sam folded his arms. "What about top-secret files? Anything recently leaked?"
Alpha's eyes—if she had them—would have glinted.
"There is one. Just hours ago, while you were reattaching your arm and recovering from the Draco incident, surveillance satellites captured a ripple—a dimensional disturbance. It blanked signals, rerouted drones, fried cameras. In Antarctica, five humans teleported in using unknown magic. Built a black castle out of thin air, then vanished under heavy illusions."
Sam blinked. "What?"
"It was China's drone that caught it—but the US stole the footage. Now it's circulating through backchannels. All nations are scrambling to find them. Messengers were dispatched, but every one failed to breach the illusion field. The footage remains 90% distorted."
Sam watched the clip Alpha played: five figures. Human silhouettes. One raised a hand—and the snow itself twisted into stone walls. Another carved a sigil mid-air, warping reality into shimmering lies. Sorcery, pure and unfiltered.
"What the hell is this... a fantasy novel come alive?"
He looked at Alpha. "Tell me straight. Is there any proof that people can level up by killing monsters? Gaining power like... RPG characters?"
Alpha shook her head.
"None. The teams who cleared E-Rank gates showed no spike in physical or magical capability. No skill trees, no stats. But something did change. Earth's magical density. Mana, as novels call it. It's growing. Fast."
Sam's heart raced.
"So... no leveling yet. But the rules are shifting."
Alpha nodded. "Correct. The old Earth is dying. The new Earth is rewriting its laws. Soon, anyone with potential will awaken."
Sam turned away from the screen, eyes fixed on the quiet book he still couldn't read.
Then he whispered, not to Alpha, not to KIRA—but to himself.
"Then I'll be ready... before the world even realizes the game has begun."