The rain poured mercilessly over Sector 9.
Dark clouds rolled above the shattered skyline, painting the horizon in shades of gray. Broken buildings stood like skeletons of a forgotten war, their hollow interiors echoing with the whispers of the past. The streets, though functional, were cracked and poorly lit. Neon signs flickered weakly. Drones zipped overhead, scanning the alleys for infractions. This was the outer ring of New Terra—the lowest tier of the world's new hierarchy.
Here, the strong ruled. The weak? They survived.
Arin Verma pulled his hoodie tighter, shielding his thin frame from the cold drizzle. His boots splashed through shallow puddles as he made his way toward the community center. His face bore a familiar mixture of determination and fatigue—one that came from years of scraping by in a world that rarely showed mercy.
Today was different. Today, everything would change.
---
Inside the massive dome-shaped building of the Sector 9 Community Center, hundreds of teens had gathered. Some wore combat uniforms. Others flaunted wrist techs, gleaming weapons, or cybernetic implants. Each one stood in line, awaiting the most important moment of their lives.
The Bio-System Compatibility Test.
A tall official in a black coat stood on the podium, his voice amplified by hidden speakers. "As citizens of New Terra, you have reached the legal age of 16. Today, you will undergo the Selection Phase. Those compatible will receive preliminary system access. Those not… will return to their lives as they were. This is the law of the Global Bio-Control Authority. Begin."
The crowd buzzed. Excitement. Fear. Envy.
Arin's number was 739.
He waited at the back, watching as candidates entered the glass chamber one by one. Most exited within seconds—rejected. A few walked out stunned, system tags blinking over their heads. The rarest few were escorted directly to a sealed room—those who had bonded with a Core System.
His heart pounded.
He wasn't like them. He had no implants. No backing. No enhanced bloodline. Just an average orphan raised in the slums of the Ninth Sector. But he had one thing none of them could measure—desperation.
"Candidate 739," a robotic voice called.
Arin swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped into the chamber.
---
The room was sterile white. A chair waited in the center beneath a swirling lens.
He sat.
"Begin scan," the voice ordered.
Beams of light swept over him, digitizing every cell in his body. His vision swam as holographic DNA strands appeared in the air. Lines of code scrolled past faster than he could follow.
> [Analyzing Genetic Structure…]
[Evaluating Neural Network…]
[Searching for System Bond Potential…]
Seconds passed. Then minutes.
Arin clenched his fists. Something had to happen. He couldn't go back—not to the streets. Not after coming this far.
Suddenly, a loud beep echoed.
> [ERROR: No System Seed Detected]
[Compatibility: 0.7% – Below Threshold]
[Recommendation: Candidate Rejected]
The screen turned red.
Arin's heart sank.
The chamber door slid open. Two guards entered, gesturing toward the exit. "Move. You're done."
"But—no, this can't be it. Just try again!" Arin shouted, resisting.
The guards grabbed his arms.
"I know I have it in me! Just one more scan!"
They dragged him out as the technician shook his head. "No system seed, no future. That's the rule."
The crowd stared as he was tossed to the floor outside the chamber. Some sneered. Others laughed.
Another failure.
Another nobody.
---
Arin didn't go home.
He wandered.
Through the rain, through the neon-lit alleys of Sector 9, across empty factories and junkyards, until he reached the edge of the defense wall—the very border where civilization met the wild zones. He climbed the old railing and sat under the cover of a broken satellite dish.
His fingers trembled as he wiped the rain off his face.
"All my life… I thought I was meant for something greater. That I wasn't just another forgotten kid," he muttered. "But I was wrong."
Lightning cracked across the sky.
In the distance, a low hum pulsed. A strange capsule-like drone drifted through the air, zigzagging as if damaged. It spun, faltered, and descended rapidly—crashing just a few hundred meters from where Arin sat.
His curiosity beat his despair.
He ran.
---
The drone's remains lay in a smoking crater. Small sparks lit the ground. Arin spotted the wrecked frame—military grade. No standard markings. Its design looked far more advanced than anything used in the sector.
As he approached cautiously, a hatch on the drone hissed open.
Inside, there was… a sphere. Smooth, metallic, about the size of a fist. It pulsed with a dim green glow. Symbols danced across its surface—alien, digital, alive.
> [WARNING: Bio-Core Unstable. Transference Protocol Activated.]
Before Arin could react, the sphere vibrated violently. A beam of light shot out, striking him square in the chest. He screamed as his body lifted off the ground.
The world vanished in a flash of light.
---
Inside his mind, time shattered.
Flashes of memory, sequences of code, images of stars and machines and DNA maps flooded his brain. He could feel something entering him—merging with his cells, rewriting them. Pain unlike anything he'd ever known wracked his body.
> [Unknown Host Detected]
[Emergency Fusion Initiated]
[Compatibility 14%... 32%... 61%...]
[Bio-System Core Embedded Successfully]
[Host Neural Overload: Critical. Entering Coma State.]
Then—darkness.
Arin collapsed, unconscious, as the capsule disintegrated beside him.
---
The next morning, a patrol unit discovered a faint life signal just outside the barrier. A frail boy, unconscious, with no ID but stabilized vitals, was recovered and taken to the local medical unit.
No one knew what had happened.
Not yet.
But deep inside Arin Verma, something had changed.
Something ancient. Something forbidden.
A system not meant for humans had chosen a host.
And with it, came power unlike any known to man.
The world was about to change.
And Arin—broken, discarded, forgotten—was about to become its anomaly.