In a Distant Future

29 March 2190

"The Ryze Corporation is one of the most successful technology companies in the world. Famous for its incredible inventions, Ryze has been leading humanity towards a new and remarkable 23rd century.

Today, we will witness the live launch of their most advanced technology yet: a signal system capable of sending data wirelessly at the speed of thought, reliable even across the vast distances of the universe. This is not just innovation — it is a leap that promises to change the course of human history forever."

(The television screen went dark, leaving only the faint hum of machines in the silent room.)

⸻

3 November 2190

Humanity had reached heights once thought impossible. Cities stretched into the skies, technology connected the world instantly, and scientists explored the secrets of the universe as if they belonged there.

A wormhole had appeared near our solar system. From it came a signal — strong, deliberate, and unnerving. It was unlike anything humanity had encountered. Governments around the world watched in alarm. Scientists from every continent raced to decode the message, working day and night. Satellites scanned the sky. Observatories analysed every particle. Entire nations held their breath.

Weeks passed in tense anticipation. Finally, the signal was broken. And what it said chilled every soul who read it:

"Attack. Attack. Attack..."

Panic spread like wildfire across every continent. Governments around the world tightened their armies. Citizens lived in constant fear.

In the United States, the government refused to sit idle. They form an alliance with Ryze Corporation to develop a solution — a weapon unlike any before. A biotechnological weapon capable of granting humans chance to against something that they barely understood.

The project was classified, secret, and urgent. Scientists worked around the clock. Failures were common, and risks were deadly. Yet, hope persisted. And thus, in the shadow of panic and fear, the TerraSync Project was born — humanity's first true line of defence against a universe that had just declared war.

1 January 2191

The alarm beeped insistently. Noah Hale groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Happy New Year, world, he muttered, stretching on the narrow bed of the hostel.

He reached for the small radio on his bedside table.

Hey... hey... What's the matter

Come and get your lovee...

A cheerful, bouncy tune filled the room — all about joy, love, and starting fresh. Noah tapped his feet along with it, smiling.

He moved through the cramped room, grabbing his toothbrush, splashing water on his face, and quickly making a piece of toast. With a bite in one hand, he slung a worn backpack over his shoulder.

The hostel hallway buzzed with life. Workers moved about carrying tools, mops, buckets, and bags. Noah strode through it, waving and chatting as he went.

"Morning, Collins! How's it going?" he called.

"Morning, Hale. Everything just fine. How's your sister yesterday?" Collins replied.

"She's fine," Noah said, laughing. "Actually... I'm officially an uncle now! Oh yeahh!"

A few men in the hallway laughed and clapped him on the back, cheering and congratulating him. Noah grinned and waved, enjoying the small burst of cheer.

He continued down the corridor, greeting anyone he passed.

"Hey, Miller! You alright this morning?"

"Morning, Hale... surviving," Miller replied, rubbing his eyes.

"Diaz! Don't trip over the stairs again, yeah?" Noah joked, causing Diaz to groan.

Noah laughed and made his way toward the communal cafeteria. A few workers were already there, preparing breakfast or washing dishes.

"You guys still fighting over the last of the holiday snacks?" he teased.

"Hey! Don't eat ours, Hale!" one shouted, laughing.

"Relax, I'm generous today!" Noah replied, flashing his grin.

Finally, he reached the old metal elevator at the end of the hallway. A colleague leaned against the wall inside.

"Hope today's not a bad New Year, dude," Noah muttered.

The man shrugged, grinning. "Shut up! It just the first day of the year! Chill out , man! HAHAHA!"

The elevator hummed as it rose to the main building. Inside, Noah waved at his colleague, tapping his foot to the music from his Walkman. Even here, among the low-level workers and the clutter of the hostel, Noah carried his careless optimism like a small, stubborn light.

Little did he know, today would not be ordinary. Today would change everything.

Noah arrived at the main building and headed toward the janitor's room. His supervisor was already there, waiting.

"You late, Hale," she said, arms crossed.

"Sorry, ma'am," Noah replied sheepishly.

Her expression softened slightly. "Look, cause you did good work yesterday, I ain't even mad. But don't make it a habit, aight?"

Noah nodded.

"Today, do like before — clean all your assigned areas," she said, loud enough for the other janitors to hear. "And... Hale," she added, lowering her voice slightly, "cause you so... 'hardworkin', I'm puttin' you on the secret research area after your shift."

She handed him a small key.

Noah held it carefully, eyes widening. "Wow... they actually trust us to enter a top-secret area... just to clean it?"

The supervisor rolled her eyes slightly. "Stop that, Hale. Them so-called high-level humans? They wouldn't dare get their own hands dirty cleaning up the mess they made."

Noah glanced around at the other janitors, noticing their mixture of curiosity and exhaustion. He realised a little more about the world they lived in — one where the powerful stayed clean, and everyone else swept up their mistakes.

He tucked the key into his pocket. "Urm... okay, ma'am," he muttered.

Noah glanced around and noticed every other janitor still in the room. They were supposed to be heading to their assigned areas, but instead, they lingered, whispering and craning their necks to watch the conversation.

The supervisor's gaze sharpened. Her face hardened immediately. "What y'all still doin' here? Get your asses moving and do your damn jobs!"

The janitors jumped into action, snatching up mops, buckets, and cleaning tools. Some bumped into each other in their rush, muttering apologies, and finally poured out of the room, leaving only Noah and the supervisor behind.

She let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "Finally... some peace."

Noah chuckled quietly, tucking the key safely into his pocket. Even in the midst of the chaos, a spark of curiosity — and excitement — flickered inside him.

As Noah turned to leave the room, the supervisor called out, her voice firm but not unkind.

"Hale, remember... don't disturb anything and don't mess up. Just do your damn job."

Noah hoisted his cleaning equipment over his shoulder, glanced back at her with a confident grin, and said, "Don't worry, ma'am. You can count on me."

With that, he strode out, leaving the supervisor alone in the room. She let out a small sigh, shaking her head as she watched him go.

Noah left the briefing room with his mop and bucket, humming softly to himself, already thinking about the long day ahead. He flipped the security keycard between his fingers, the sleek black plastic catching the hallway lights. Curiosity tugged at him. A restricted area... first time in my life they trust me with something this high-level.

Lost in thought, he didn't see the man turning the corner.

Thud!

Noah stumbled back as his shoulder slammed into what felt like a wall. He blinked up, heart skipping. It wasn't a wall. It was a soldier — tall, broad, carved like stone, his uniform stretched over solid muscle.

The man's gaze snapped down at Noah, sharp and cold, as if one glare could flatten him. His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in disdain.

"S-sorry," Noah stammered quickly, clutching his mop handle like a shield. His voice cracked with nerves.

The soldier didn't reply. He simply rolled his eyes, muttered under his breath — "Stupid janitor" — and brushed past without a second glance.

Noah froze. Heat rushed into his face, his fists tightening at his side. Every fibre in him screamed to say something back. But one look at the man's size, the way his shoulders cut through the air with soldier's discipline... Noah swallowed it down.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, forcing a weak smile to himself. "Yeah... happy new year to you too, buddy," he muttered under his breath, pushing the cart forward as if nothing had happened.

But the sting lingered.

Secret Lab Facility – an hour after

A young soldier named Harry strode down the hallway, spotting his friend.

"Hey, Karl, how's your sleep?" he called cheerfully.

Karl didn't even look at him. His expression remained unreadable, eyes forward, voice flat and clipped. "Fine," he said, almost dismissively, as if acknowledging the question was a burden.

Harry sighed but continued walking beside him, trying to keep the conversation alive. "You ready for the briefing? Big day today..."

Karl made no response. He didn't flinch, didn't smile — nothing. It was as if Harry was talking to air.

Suddenly, the sound of a commander's voice suddenly echoed down the hall, sharp and commanding:

"All candidates! Move faster!"

Instantly, everyone straightened, sprinting toward the testing room. They fell into formation in threes, as if on automatic — a military roll call, disciplined and precise.

The commander stepped forward, voice booming across the room. "As you all know, today is finally the day we test our research. I hope that one of you candidates will be the chosen one!"

Murmurs spread through the group, some smirking confidently, others fidgeting nervously.

"And of course," the commander continued, eyes landing on Karl, "Karl — our best candidate. I hope you will become a great weapon for protecting our world."

Karl didn't flinch. He simply stood there, tall, disciplined, a quiet storm of focus. His reputation was well-earned: the most serious and precise soldier among them, astonishingly strong, intelligent, and the best force pilot in U.S. military history. He was everything the military could ask for — the designated ace.

Harry glanced at him nervously and muttered, "Man... you really don't show anything, huh?"

The commander's eyes snapped to Harry instantly. "What did I say about talking during formation, soldier? Keep your mouth shut and your focus forward!"

Harry jumped, face flushing red. "Y-Yes, sir!"

Karl's eyes barely shifted. "There's nothing to show."

And with that, he turned his gaze forward, fully immersed in the mission ahead, leaving Harry to fume quietly and straighten his posture.

Moments later, a group of scientists arrived at the facility. Their lab coats rustled as they walked briskly toward the gathered candidates. The lead scientist's eyes scanned the room, sharp and precise.

He approached the commander, nodding once. "Sir, are they all ready?" he asked, his gaze slowly moving across each candidate, studying their posture, focus, and readiness.

The commander straightened, voice firm. "Yes, all set. They've been briefed, formed up, and are ready for the test."

The scientist nodded again, glancing back at the candidates with a mixture of curiosity and expectation. "Good. Let's make sure nothing goes wrong today."

Tension filled the room, every candidate aware that today could change everything. Karl's eyes, unyielding and calm, met the scientist's gaze briefly, while Harry fidgeted nervously beside him.

The scientists stepped forward, the hum of anticipation filling the room. Lead scientist, Dr. Sturgis, cleared his throat and began.

"As you all know," he said, voice steady but serious, "our world now stands on the edge of a great danger. Something beyond our understanding is approaching... and we do not yet know if it comes as friend or foe. We've attempted to communicate, to make contact... but all our efforts seem futile."

Dr. Sturgis lifted a sleek remote and pressed a button. A holographic projector flickered to life, hovering in the air before the candidates. In vivid detail, a massive spacecraft cut through the void, drawing ever closer to Earth.

"As you can see," he continued, his eyes scanning the room, "the ship has already passed Jupiter. Time is not on our side. At any moment, they could reach Earth and begin an invasion. That is why... today, we must complete this project. There is no room for error."

A hush fell over the room. The gravity of the situation pressed down on every candidate. Even Karl, stoic as ever, felt the weight of the moment, while Harry shifted nervously, feeling the tension tighten around them like a vice.

Dr. Sturgis let the projection linger, the spacecraft slowly moving across the holographic sky. "This is not just a test of technology," he said quietly, "but of our very survival."

As Dr. Sturgis continued his briefing, his words echoing with urgency, the other scientists moved swiftly around the room. Consoles lit up, holographic panels flickered to life, and strange, advanced devices hummed with energy.

"Remember," Dr. Sturgis said, gesturing toward the holographic spacecraft, "this is not just a test of technology. Today, we push the limits of human capability. Any mistake could—"

Before he could finish, a young scientist approached him, clipboard in hand, eyes sharp with focus.

"Dr. Sturgis," the scientist said, interrupting politely but firmly, "the preparations are complete. All systems are ready for the candidates."

Dr. Sturgis paused and glanced at the young scientist, then back at the candidates, his face a mixture of pride and tension. "Very well," he said, voice low but firm. "Then let us begin. Today, humanity takes its first step toward survival."

A low hum filled the room as energy surged through the system. The candidates exchanged tense glances, each aware that this moment could change everything — for the world... and for themselves.

Karl's expression remained unreadable, his focus absolute. Harry, on the other hand, fidgeted nervously, glancing at the shimmering holographic display and muttering under his breath.

Dr. Sturgis walked to the big console at the center of the room. His lab coat swayed as he moved, hands checking switches and levers carefully.

Then he turned slowly, looking at all the candidates and scientists. Everyone could feel the weight of the moment.

He grabbed the main lever and said loudly, "And now... I shall officially start the TerraSync Project!"

With a pull of the lever, the machine came to life. Lights flickered, energy ran through the wires, and a low hum filled the room.

The candidates froze, watching. Karl stayed calm, focused as ever, while Harry fidgeted nervously. The scientists checked the glowing screens, their eyes full of tension.

The hum grew louder, vibrating under their feet, and the TerraSync system lit up the room with a bright, strange glow.

Before starting the test, Dr. Sturgis was handed a file by one of the lab assistants. He opened it and began scanning the list of candidates, reading their profiles quietly to himself.

"Karl... born in Mississippi. Orphaned at a young age. Top scorer in both orphanage and school. Outstanding athlete. Drafted into the army straight out of high school. Became one of the most talented soldiers in the U.S. military..."

He flipped a page.

"Harry... comes from a wealthy family of athletes. Fragile-looking, but his physical abilities are among the best in America. Won multiple medals in school sports competitions. Was even selected as one of America's Olympic athlete candidates, but drafted into the military for this project."

Dr. Sturgis continued flipping through the file, reading brief notes on the other seven candidates. Their details were short — enough to know their backgrounds, but none of them stood out like Karl or Harry.

He closed the file and looked up at the assembled candidates. "It's clear... some of you are exceptional. Today, we'll see who can handle the TerraSync project. Choose wisely, and prepare yourselves."

The candidates lined up outside the TerraSync chamber. The hum of the machine echoed through the facility. Every eye was on Karl as he stepped forward. The commander gave him a subtle nod.

"You're first, Karl. Show us what you've got," the commander said.

Karl didn't answer. He walked with calm precision, each step measured, eyes fixed on the chamber. Time seemed to slow. Whispers and nervous breaths filled the room, but he didn't flinch.

The TerraSync chamber loomed before him: a sleek, cylindrical device surrounded by high-tech machinery, wires, and conduits glowing with energy. Tubes ran to multiple consoles, and a mesh of lights flickered across the walls. The floor beneath the cylinder vibrated as the machine powered up, humming like a heartbeat. It looked more like a futuristic medical capsule than a weapon — yet everyone knew what it could do.

Karl climbed into the chamber, straps securing him in place. His expression was calm, focused, unyielding. The scientists double-checked the controls while Dr. Sturgis approached the main lever.

"Initiating TerraSync... now," Dr. Sturgis announced.

Energy surged through the chamber. The hum grew louder, almost deafening. Sparks flickered along the wires as the machine began to charge, lights sweeping over Karl's motionless form.

The machine slowly powered up. Sparks flickered along the console edges. The hum swelled into a low roar. Every person in the room felt the tension, waiting for the system to respond.

At first, Karl remained calm, eyes forward, but then something went wrong. The hum intensified, lights flickered wildly, and the energy readings spiked uncontrollably. The machine groaned and jolted violently.

Karl's calm facade cracked. Panic surged through him like a living force. He slammed his fists against the reinforced glass of the chamber. Cracks spread like spiderwebs across the surface. With a final desperate strike, the glass shattered, sending shards flying as he climbed out.

Breathing heavily, Karl staggered backward, his chest heaving. His usually composed expression was gone, replaced with raw fear and frustration. His eyes darted around the room, pupils wide, as if the weight of the near-disaster had shaken him to his core.

"Impossible... How could this happen?!" he muttered under his breath, voice shaky, almost like a panic attack.

Dr. Sturgis muttered, "We... we'll have to fix it. Immediately."

Karl's glare didn't soften. "Fix it? You call this ready? This is a disgrace."

The commander stepped forward, voice firm but calm. "Karl... calm down. We'll get it running. You're still the top candidate — no one doubts that. But we need patience."

Karl shook his head, still furious, eyes locked on the chamber. He would master it — once the TerraSync system actually worked.

The room fell silent after Karl stumbled out of the shattered chamber, breathing hard, still trembling from the near-disaster. Sparks from the console lit the faces of the scientists, casting long shadows across the walls.

Dr. Sturgis stepped forward, holding a tablet. His eyes scanned the data, a frown forming.

"Karl..." he said slowly, voice heavy, "according to the readings... you are not compatible with the TerraSync system."

The words hit the room like a physical blow. Karl's fists clenched tighter, his teeth grinding. "What?!" he shouted, his voice echoing against the walls. "Not compatible? I've trained for this my entire life! How—how can this be?"

Dr. Sturgis raised a hand, calm but firm. "The data doesn't lie. Your physical and neural patterns... they cannot synchronize with the system. The chamber was never meant to handle your level of output—it malfunctioned because it couldn't contain it."

Karl's face turned red, a mixture of disbelief, fury, and frustration. He slammed his hand against the console, sending another spark flying. "I don't care what the data says! I will make this work! You hear me? I WILL make it work!"

Harry stepped back nervously, unsure whether to speak. The other candidates kept their distance, feeling the raw intensity of Karl's anger and humiliation.

Dr. Sturgis pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Karl... you need to calm down. This isn't failure—it's... a warning. If we push further without proper adjustments, someone could get seriously hurt."

Karl shook his head, pacing, his rage barely contained. "I don't care about warnings! I've been trained for this, I'm the best candidate — you're telling me I'm not good enough?"

The commander stepped forward, voice steady but firm. "Karl... listen to the scientist. We all know your capabilities, but TerraSync is not just a test of strength. It's a test of compatibility. You'll get another chance — when the system is ready."

Karl stopped pacing, his chest heaving, eyes locked on the broken chamber. Fury mixed with desperation burned in him, but deep down, a part of him understood the truth — and it stung.

The TerraSync chamber powered down completely, the sparks and alarms fading into silence. Karl stepped out, still tense, while the other candidates lingered near the exit.

Dr. Sturgis approached the commander, tablet in hand, speaking quietly. "Commander... I think that's enough for today. We've recorded all the data we can, and the system is stable for now."

The commander nodded, eyes scanning the candidates and the chamber. "Very well," he said, voice carrying across the room. He turned to the assembled candidates. "Candidates, that concludes today's test. You are dismissed. Return to your quarters and prepare for tomorrow. Dismiss!"

The candidates straightened, gave a crisp salute, and then began to leave, moving through the corridors in small, disciplined groups. Karl stayed silent, hands at his sides, eyes still locked on the chamber as he walked out. Harry followed, glancing nervously at him, while the rest of the candidates quietly filed out.

Once the room was mostly empty, the scientists and Dr. Sturgis began tidying up. Dr. Sturgis picked up stray wires, wiped down consoles, and pressed a futuristic communication device.

"Hey... make sure the janitors clean everything properly. Tools, debris, any mess left from today's test. Don't leave anything behind."

A quick crackle confirmed the message. Dr. Sturgis nodded, continuing to organize the lab, mentally preparing for the next attempt.

1 January 2191 – 7:00 PM

The facility had finally quieted down. The clatter of machinery and the distant hum of the TerraSync chamber had faded into silence. Outside, the sun had nearly set, casting long shadows across the corridors.

Noah Hale wheeled his cleaning cart down the nearly empty halls of the Ryze Company labor wing. Most workers had already clocked out, leaving only a handful of night-shift staff and janitors to tidy up. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and burnt circuits, remnants of the day's chaotic tests.

"Finally... some peace," Noah muttered, pushing the cart toward the main facility area. He hummed a faint tune, trying to ease the tension from the long day.

He stopped in front of the door to the restricted area — the secret section of the lab he had been assigned to clean after hours. Noah pulled out the access card Miss Agnes had given him earlier. Swiping it against the scanner, a soft green light flashed. The door clicked and slid open smoothly.

"Welcome, Miss Agnes," he whispered softly, almost as if greeting his supervisor in jest, the empty hallway amplifying his voice.

The room inside was quiet and eerie, dominated by the massive TerraSync chamber and arrays of high-tech equipment he had never been allowed to approach before. Noah wheeled his cart in, setting down cleaning supplies, pausing as his eyes traced the contours of the chamber. Its dark, metallic surface reflected the dim overhead lights, giving it an almost alive presence.

Curiosity got the better of him. He stepped closer to the console at the base of the chamber, brushing his fingers over the smooth surface.

A soft click echoed. The screens blinked awake. Tiny lights pulsed along the edges, and the faint hum of energy started to rise.

Noah froze. "Wait... what did I just do?"

The hum of the TerraSync system deepened, vibrating through the room. The machine was coming alive — responding to him. He had no idea he had just triggered a sequence meant for the most advanced candidates.

In that moment, the janitor's ordinary shift turned into something far greater... something that would change not just his life, but the fate of the world.

Noah's eyes widened as the TerraSync chamber hummed louder, lights blinking rapidly across the console. He panicked.

"I... I have to shut this off!" he muttered, frantically pressing buttons. Red lights flashed. Alarms began to beep. Every command he pressed only seemed to make it worse.

The cylinder doors of the chamber slowly began to slide open with a hiss. A thick, white mist poured out, swirling across the room. It was the TerraSync vapor, the same substance used to infuse candidates with the system's animal synchronization — and now, it was everywhere.

The alarm sirens blared, echoing through the facility, and Noah stumbled back. "Oh no... oh no, oh no!" he yelled, covering his mouth and nose, trying to block the mist.

But the vapor was relentless. It filled the room, curling around his legs, rising toward his face. Noah inhaled sharply, coughing, but the mist kept coming. His vision blurred. The world around him spun. His knees buckled as dizziness overtook him.

He tried to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the wailing alarms. Colors bled into one another, shapes twisting, and his surroundings faded into darkness.

Noah vision starting to get blurred. After minutes trying to stay awake, he collapsed onto the floor. The mist enveloped him completely, drifting into every corner, carrying the TerraSync chemical compound into his body.

Everything went black.

2 January 2191- 3 a.m.

Noah floated in darkness. His body felt heavy, like stone sinking in water. Then, through the void, a voice cut through — trembling with awe, almost manic.

"This is... unbelievable. Perfect... PERFECT! He is the perfect man for this project. I can't believe it..."

The words clawed at his mind. His fingers twitched. His chest dragged in a breath. Slowly, his eyes peeled open.

Blinding light. A sterile ceiling. The faint beeping of machines. His vision cleared, and beside him stood an old bald scientist in a white coat, hunched over a hospital-like monitor. His fingers tapped rapidly across a glowing keyboard, data streams scrolling fast on the screen — Noah's heart rate, neural waves, oxygen levels — all flashing in steady rhythm.

The man didn't notice Noah stir. His eyes were fixed on the data, lips moving in a feverish murmur. "Astounding... synchronization stable. Neural pathways intact. Cellular uptake... flawless."

Finally, without turning, he spoke, his tone calm yet heavy with triumph.

"Ahh... so, you're awake already."

Noah's throat burned. His voice cracked as he forced words out. "Wh... who... are you?"

Only then did the man glance at him, eyes sharp behind thin glasses, a smile tugging at his face.

"I am Dr. Sturgis," he said, almost reverently. "And you, my boy... you may just be the future of this world."

Noah tried to move — and froze. His breath caught.

His arms, his legs, even his chest were threaded with wires — dozens of them, black and silver, embedded into the joints like mechanical veins. Strange metallic nodes clung to his skin, pulsing faintly with light. Across his temples sat a crown-like headpiece, thin needles pressed against his scalp, connected to a brainwave monitor that drew jagged green lines across the screen.

"What... what is this?" Noah croaked, throat dry. His eyes darted down his body, disbelief flooding in. "Where... where am I? What happened?"

Then memory struck him like a hammer. His chest tightened.

"The machine... I—I broke it!" His voice rose in panic. "I messed it up! I swear I didn't mean to—"

He tried to push himself off the bed, desperate to find someone, anyone, to confess, to beg forgiveness. But his limbs refused to obey. It was like trying to move through stone. Nothing worked. His body was no longer his.

"No... no, please..." His voice cracked as he strained uselessly against the wires. Tears welled in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to ruin everything... I'll fix it, please, I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

The words tumbled out again and again, half-broken, half-sobbing, until Dr. Sturgis finally turned toward him, eyes gleaming behind his thin glasses.

"Stop that, boy." His voice thundered, silencing the room. "Do not speak of failure — not again."

He stepped closer, placing one firm hand on the bed's railing.

"You should be grateful," Sturgis said, calm but burning with conviction. "What you call an accident... is nothing less than a miracle. The TerraSync was failing — but you... you survived. It chose you. That chamber did not destroy you. It remade you."

He leaned in, whispering now, almost reverent.

"This may be the only light humanity has left."

Noah's chest heaved as he tried again to move, to break free, but nothing worked. His pleas were cut short when Dr. Sturgis finally set down the tablet in his hand and fixed his sharp, calculating eyes on him.

"You want to know what happened?" the doctor said quietly, his voice steady like cold steel. "Fine. Listen carefully, because your life — and perhaps the world — depends on it."

He adjusted his glasses and began to pace slowly at the foot of Noah's bed, the hum of the machines filling the silence.

"When the TerraSync chamber malfunctioned, we thought it was a total failure. The system was collapsing, the stabilisers burning out. The vapor — the essence meant to bind the human body with the link — it escaped into the room. Anyone else would have died instantly from exposure."

He turned sharply, pointing a long finger at Noah.

"But you didn't."

Noah blinked rapidly, still trembling. "I—I just breathed it in. I couldn't stop it. I thought I was dying..."

Dr. Sturgis' lips curled into the faintest smile. "You should have died. That concentration of TerraSync was beyond lethal. Yet somehow... your body adapted. It synchronised. The very thing designed to break men down — fused with you."

He tapped the monitor beside him. Data scrolled across the screen: vitals, brain patterns, unfamiliar code running like fire. "Your heart rate stabilised at levels higher than any candidate. Your neurons are firing faster, stronger. Your cells... they're changing. Even your brainwaves show activity I've never seen in a human being."

Noah swallowed hard, whispering, "So I'm... what? A mistake?"

Sturgis' eyes narrowed, voice rising with passion.

"No. You are the answer. The chamber rejected Karl, rejected every carefully chosen candidate — but it did not reject you. The janitor. The nobody. Fate threw you into this mess, boy, and fate has delivered us our weapon."

He leaned close, eyes boring into Noah's.

"You are not a mistake, Hale. You are the miracle the TerraSync was waiting for."

Noah lay frozen, torn between awe and terror. His voice came out small, almost childlike.

"But... I never asked for this."

Dr. Sturgis straightened, his expression hardening.

"No one ever does."

He clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing again, his voice low but steady, carrying the weight of centuries of fear.

"Hale... do you understand what this means?" He gestured at the monitors, the streams of glowing data. "For months, we prepared for war we could not win. The finest soldiers, the brightest candidates — every one of them failed. Humanity's last hope slipped through our fingers."

He stopped and turned sharply, his eyes piercing Noah's.

"And then you appeared."

Noah's lips parted, but no words came. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his mind a storm.

Dr. Sturgis stepped closer, lowering his voice, almost reverent.

"You, a janitor... the world would laugh if they knew. But fate does not care about titles or ranks. Fate chose you, Hale. It spared your life when others would have turned to ash. It gave you what no soldier could endure. That is no accident. That is destiny."

He leaned in, his face close enough that Noah could see the sharp lines of age, the fire in his eyes.

"You are not just a man anymore. You are the vessel of TerraSync. The weapon we prayed for when we cracked that signal. The shield between Earth and annihilation. When the invaders arrive — and make no mistake, they will arrive — it will not be generals or politicians who stand in their way. It will be you."

Noah's throat tightened. His hands trembled against the restraints of the bed. "But... I don't even know what I am now. I don't know how to fight..."

Sturgis' voice grew fierce, almost fatherly, like he was branding the words into Noah's soul.

"Then you will learn. You must learn. For there is no one else. You, Hale, are humanity's last light in the coming darkness. And if you falter... this world will burn."

Silence fell, save for the relentless hum of the machines. Noah stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding, the weight of Sturgis' words pressing down on him like chains.

For the first time in his life, he wasn't just a janitor.

He was a weapon.

He was the hope of mankind.

And deep within the shadows of Sturgis' eyes, a glimmer of something else lingered — not hope, but hunger.

Dr Sturgis took a steadying breath and spoke fast, as if he had to pour everything into one line.

"Right now I'll explain — TerraSync is a biotech genetic project that makes a superhuman by using nature itself: we captured and combined DNA from animals across the planet into an artificial genetic compound. That compound fused with you when the vapour hit — that's why you lived."

Filled with curiosity, Noah ask, "So, can I become a tree?"

"No, of course you can't become a tree," Noah replying his own question, grinning weakly.

Sturgis laughed, a quick, warm sound. "No, not a tree. This isn't botanical. It's animal DNA — everything from insects to whales. We wove them into one compound. It's inside your blood now."

Noah's brow furrowed. "So... how do I use it? Do I just... pick a power?"

"You can access the abilities of any animal," Sturgis said, patient now, explaining as he tapped at the monitor. "At will, in theory. You can call one ability, or a few at once — but the more you use at the same time, the more focus and control you'll need. Hands like a spider, legs like a cheetah, eyes like an eagle, wings like a hawk — you can mix them. We don't yet know the upper limit of how many abilities you can use together safely."

Noah tried to imagine it and coughed, a tiny laugh in his throat. "So if I want, I could have spider-hands and cheetah-feet and eagle-eyes all at once?"

"In time, yes — with training," Sturgis answered. "For now, be careful. The system rewired parts of your body and brain. Learning to switch, combine, and hold focus is the hard part."

Noah sniffed, the dry air and nerves getting to him. He let out a big sneeze — and, to everyone's stunned silence, a thin strand of silk shot from his fingers and stuck to the bedrail.

Noah stared at his hand, then at Sturgis. "Uh... did I just—?"

Sturgis' face split into a grin that was half-scientist, half-father. "Remarkable. Very remarkable."

Noah hid a embarrassed laugh, rubbing his nose. The silly moment broke some of the edge in the room, but beneath it sat the fattest, heaviest truth: whatever TerraSync had done, it had already begun.

1 January 2191- 6.30 pm, A bar near Research Facility

Karl sat at the bar, a heavy glass clutched in his hand. The amber liquid swirled, catching the dim light of the room, but he wasn't really looking at it. His mind replayed the chamber — the cold straps locking him down, the rising hum of the TerraSync machine, the eyes of every soldier and scientist watching him like he was their salvation.

And then... the failure. The words still rang in his ears.

"Subject incompatible."

Karl's jaw tightened. His entire life — every medal, every victory, every brutal hour spent sharpening himself into a weapon — reduced to that single moment. Rejected. Cast aside.

He drained the glass in one motion.

"Drinking away today's glory, champ?"

Karl didn't bother to look. He recognized the voice — Harry. Of course it was Harry. Always trying to talk, always trying to smile, like the world wasn't falling apart.

"Get lost," Karl muttered, his tone sharp enough to cut.

Harry slid onto the stool beside him anyway, ordering nothing, just watching. "You're still the best soldier we've got. One machine doesn't change that."

Karl turned then, his eyes narrowing, cold as steel. "If I'm the best, then why did that machine spit me out like trash?"

Harry opened his mouth, searching for an answer, but the room saved him.

A piercing chime cut through the bar — every wrist device flashing red. The low murmur of voices died instantly. Soldiers stood, chairs scraping back, boots pounding as they rushed for the exit.

Harry's eyes widened. "An emergency. Something's happening in the lab."

He jumped to his feet, tugging at Karl's arm. "Come on!"

Karl didn't move. He sat there, still as stone, his gaze fixed on the empty glass in front of him. The red glow from his wrist device painted his clenched fist in warning light.

"Dammit, Karl!" Harry's voice cracked with urgency. "This could be serious!"

Karl pulled his arm free, his tone low and venomous. "Why should I care? That project already rejected me. Let someone else play their hero."

Harry stared at him for a moment, torn between duty and friendship. Finally, he cursed under his breath and ran out with the others, the door slamming shut behind him.

Silence returned, broken only by the faint buzz of the alarm.

Karl sat alone, the bar now empty, the red light still flashing on his wrist. He stared into the void of his glass, his reflection twisted by the drink.

"If anyone deserves that power..." he muttered, voice heavy with bitterness.

"...it's me."

The back alley behind the bar smelled of smoke and rain-soaked asphalt. Karl leaned against the cold brick wall, head tilted back, staring at the night sky. He hadn't touched his drink, but the taste of failure still clung bitter on his tongue. Every word from the commander, every spark from that cursed chamber, replayed in his mind.

I was supposed to be the one.

The faint buzz of alarms echoed from his wrist device. Red light blinked, urgent, but Karl barely glanced at it.

Then—

"Karl!"

Harry's voice crackled through the communication device, urgent, firm. In the faint glow, his projection flickered into view above Karl's wrist. The sound of alarms bled in from Harry's background. "We went to check... urgent call, remember?"

Karl lean his back on the wall at the alley, the alley filled with dark except for the faint glow of the communication device on his wrist. He didn't answer right away. Just silence.

Harry kept going, words spilling out in uneven breaths. "Someone got into the our secret research lab. Not one of us. A janitor, I think... He—he accidentally triggered the TerraSync." His voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and shock haze. "And now they've rushed him to the hospital facility. Straight to emergency care."

Finally, Karl spoke, voice low, bitter, and cold. "So what?"

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, his projection flickering faintly. "So what?! Karl, this is serious! A civilian touched the system and lived through it. That shouldn't even be possible—"

"He won't live long," Karl cut him off, his words dripping with venom. "No one survives that tech. He's probably dead already. Dead, because of a stupid mistake. Dead, because of that cursed biotech."

Harry gritted his teeth, pressing a hand to his forehead. "You don't get it... I saw him, Karl. He was still breathing when they carried him out. Still alive."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Karl's hand clenched tight into a fist, his jaw grinding. He killed the call without another word.

The alley fell into darkness again, the only glow the faint red blink from his wrist. Karl stared at it for a moment, then turned his gaze back to the night sky. His reflection shimmered faintly in a puddle at his feet, distorted and unfamiliar.

Harry stood there on the research facility, the device beeping in his hand. "Dammit, Karl..." he muttered, before rushed to facility back.

2 January 2191 — 08:00 a.m.

The morning sun filtered through the smog above, casting a dull orange glow across the massive complex. Workers filed in, their boots striking the steel pathways with the rhythm of routine. From a distance, the structure rose like a fortress — a relic of human ambition reshaped by necessity. The building called The Ryze Command Complex.

Once, this place had been a pure research hub under Ryze Corporation. A temple of science, humming with discoveries, white coats, and theoretical breakthroughs. The air used to smell of sterilized halls and coffee machines working overtime. Back then, soldiers were a rare sight.

But now—things were different.

The world had changed. Beyond the stars, something was coming. Signals intercepted. Unexplainable activity approaching Earth. The threat was no longer a rumor, no longer speculation in a classified file. It was imminent.

And so, the Ryze Research Facility had transformed into something new: a joint U.S. Military–Ryze Corporation stronghold. A fortress where innovation was sharpened into weapons, and where soldiers became experiments.

The ground levels, once crowded with laboratories, were now filled with soldiers in black combat gear, their drills echoing through reinforced corridors. The sterile white floors had been replaced by heavy plating, scuffed by boots and equipment. Guns and prototypes were tested daily, the air often trembling with the recoil of new inventions.

The upper floors still housed the research divisions — bioweapons, exoskeleton projects, advanced energy systems. The work carried on much like it always had, scientists pacing the glass corridors with datapads in hand, their conversations clipped and precise. But every step, every experiment, now unfolded under the shadow of military oversight.

And among all those projects, one stood above the rest. Project TerraSync. The crown jewel. The most secretive, the most dangerous — whispered about in the halls, yet rarely spoken of openly. A program locked behind reinforced doors and layers of clearance, where only a handful truly knew what was happening inside.

Below, deep underground, stretched the hidden backbone of the facility. Hostels lined the subterranean halls — cramped bunks, humming lights, and recycled air. This was where the janitors, contractors, and laborers lived, unseen and uncelebrated, cleaning up after the empire of science and war above them. Their pay was enough to survive, nothing more.

The mid-levels in the underground were carved into training arenas — colossal spaces where soldiers tested new weaponry, or where selected recruits endured "specialized programs" meant to reshape them into something more than human. This was where the first TerraSync trials had begun, where men like Karl had been strapped into machines that whispered promises of power.

Now, as the day began, the facility buzzed like a hive. Soldiers reported for duty. Scientists carried datapads and schematics. Janitors pushed cleaning carts toward the lift shafts that would drag them to upper floors they weren't supposed to question.

Everything was running like clockwork. Order. Precision. Control.

And yet... beneath it all, whispers ran through the ranks. About the alert last night. About the civilian — the janitor — who had somehow survived the TerraSync chamber.

Something was shifting inside the fortress.

Although Project TerraSync was the most tightly guarded secret within Ryze Command Complex, rumors still began to slip through the cracks. Soldiers whispered in the barracks, contractors traded stories in the smoking areas, and even janitors carried tales back to their underground hostels.

The story of a janitor stumbling into the forbidden lab spread like wildfire. Nobody knew the truth, so every retelling twisted into something new.

Some swore the man died instantly, his body burned from the inside by unstable biotech. Others claimed he survived — but changed — muttering that he rose from the chamber half-mad, eyes glowing, like a zombie bred from science. A few even joked that he had turned into some hulking monster locked away in the lower levels.

The wildest rumor painted him as something else entirely: a "super-janitor," able to climb walls and sweep ceilings, or mop an entire hallway in seconds. It was half-joke, half-nervous suspicion — because deep down, no one outside the project truly knew what TerraSync could create.

And so, from the mess hall to the training grounds, from the upper laboratories to the underground hostels, the name of the unknown janitor lingered in whispers. To some, he was already dead. To others, he was something far worse.

The rumors eventually climbed higher than the barracks and the hostels. Whispers turned into quiet reports, and those reports reached Commander Tyson — the man responsible for shaping the TerraSync candidates.

He sat in his office, blinds half-drawn, a file open on his desk but his focus far from the paperwork. The chatter was unavoidable now, even seeping into the discipline of his unit. A janitor, they said. A civilian inside the chamber. Tyson rubbed the bridge of his nose, his jaw locked in frustration. This was no ordinary gossip — this was the kind of rumor that could unravel morale.

Across the facility, in the candidate gym, Karl was hammering away at the punching bag, his knuckles wrapped and his body slick with sweat. The other candidates were grouped near the benches, whispering and laughing between sets.

"Did you hear? They said the janitor survived the chamber."

"No way. My buddy swore he turned into some kind of zombie."

"Ha! Zombie janitor, that's a good one."

Karl's punches grew harder, each thud against the heavy bag echoing sharper. His breathing deepened, his muscles flexing with raw frustration.

Another candidate chuckled. "Or maybe he's stronger than all of us now. Imagine that — a janitor beating out the commander's golden boy."

The words hit Karl like a knife. The bag snapped against its chain as he drove his fist into it with brutal force, silencing the laughter. His glare cut across the room — sharp, venomous, unblinking.

The chatter died instantly. No one dared to push further.

Karl ripped the wraps off his fists and stormed past them, shoulders rigid, every step radiating fury. To him, the rumor wasn't funny. It was an insult.

The metallic sirens blared through the training halls, a sharp alert that cut through every corner of the Ryze Command Complex.

"All TerraSync candidates report to the lab. Immediate assembly."

Karl, still seething from the earlier gossip, marched with the others toward the glass-walled facility. His fists were clenched, his mind burning with the rumor that had gnawed at him since morning. Harry walked alongside him, trying to keep up, though the look on Karl's face warned him not to start a conversation.

Inside the lab, the candidates lined up in disciplined rows. The humming of machinery filled the vast room — consoles blinking, scientists moving like clockwork. At the center, Dr. Sturgis stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes glinting with something Karl didn't like: pride.

When the room quieted, Sturgis's voice carried like a sermon.

"Candidates... what occurred yesterday was nothing short of a miracle. A man — no soldier, no athlete, not even one of you trained specimens — but a janitor... has achieved what none of you could. His name is Noah Hale."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the candidates. Some chuckled nervously, others exchanged skeptical glances. Karl's jaw locked tight.

Sturgis continued, pacing slowly. "The synchronization rate we recorded was perfect. Beyond perfect. His body didn't reject the biotech. It embraced it."

He raised a hand, signaling to one of the monitors. A recording blinked to life, showing Noah sitting up awkwardly in a medical bay. His hair was a mess, his hospital gown loose, but then—he sneezed.

Fwoosh!

A spray of white, sticky threads burst from his nose, plastering across the room like a wild spider web.

A roar of laughter broke out among the candidates. Even some of the scientists couldn't hide their chuckles. But Karl didn't laugh. His face twisted with fury, his eyes narrowed, his jaw grinding as he stood stone-still, the only one not amused.

"Yes, yes, amusing. But crude as it may be, what you just saw is proof — his body has accepted TerraSync at a cellular level. He is alive. He is healthy. He is stable. And tomorrow..." Sturgis paused for dramatic effect, his sharp eyes sweeping the rows of soldiers. "...he will join you all as a candidate. I expect you to give him guidance, support, and yes... your respect."

The murmurs grew louder. Some looked shocked, others doubtful, but one voice rang out cheerfully.

Harry grinned, whispering loud enough for a few to hear, "Finally! A new face. Can't wait to show him the ropes."

Karl turned his head, his glare slicing into Harry like a blade. His eyes were dark, seething with rage. To Karl, this wasn't a miracle. It was an insult.

Tomorrow, a janitor would stand among them — where he should have been.

Harry felt Karl's gaze burn into him, his smile faltered. His chest tightened, and he quickly looked away. Karl's silent fury was enough to shake even his easy-going spirit.

The laughter had died down. The candidates were dismissed, and the day's shift carried on with training, drills, and evaluations. By nightfall, the facility had grown quieter, its once-bustling corridors now echoing only with the hum of machinery and the distant clatter of boots.

Karl sat alone in the locker room, the fluorescent lights above flickering softly. The smell of sweat and iron lingered in the air, the benches empty except for him. His hands rested on his knees, knuckles white, veins standing out as though his body itself struggled to contain his emotions.

The others had gone to the mess hall, laughing, still joking about Noah Hale's "spider-sneeze." The echo of their voices still rang in Karl's ears. He could hear Harry's laugh too, faint but distinct — like salt on an open wound.

Karl clenched his jaw. His reflection in the steel of his locker stared back at him, distorted, angry.

"A janitor," he whispered bitterly. "A nobody."

His fist slammed into the metal door with a deafening clang. The locker rattled, echoing across the room, but he didn't care. He leaned forward, breathing hard, the veins in his temple throbbing.

"I bled for this. I earned this. And they hand it to... to him?" His voice cracked into a low growl.

For a moment, he sat in silence, chest heaving. His thoughts burned with images of Noah Hale tomorrow — standing among the candidates, fumbling awkwardly, yet hailed as the "miracle" that Karl could never be.

His eyes narrowed, fury darkening his face.

"If anyone deserves that power..." he muttered, repeating the same words from the bar, this time laced with venom.

"...it's me. Not some janitor."

He slammed the locker shut, the echo carrying like a warning through the empty room.

Karl sat there, alone, consumed by jealousy so thick it gnawed at him from the inside — a storm waiting for the right moment to break loose.