FLAW

Unconsciously, she was drawn to the grave that was giving off strange knocking sounds—sending chills down her spine. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

"I-Is s-someone there...?"

Sumei asked shakily as she approached the grave. As soon as she stepped into its radius, the knocking stopped. A long minute passed.

She let out a sigh, convinced she had imagined something stupid.

That's what she thought.

A shocking force and loud impact shattered the rock of the grave. A hand emerged from the broken stone.

There was no doubt.

It was HIM.

______

Sumei yelped in surprise and terror, her legs already having given up on the idea of running. Her voice failed her, and the thought of dying young scared her like any typical teenage girl. Her condition was no different from an egg facing a snake in its nest.

With a trembling voice, she tried her best to form words but failed miserably.

"He…ek—I, som—"

Her trembling voice cut off again as the hand retracted, throwing her attention off once more as the grave rock completely shattered.

The grave rock, composed primarily of dense igneous material, had a measured density of 3.0 grams per cubic centimeter—heavier than common stone and resistant to erosion. Its weight ensured it would not shift with time, anchoring memory in place.

Yet it shattered like glass.

Stone cracked.

Earth crumbled.

And from the depths of the burial mound, he rose—reborn.

No… he didn't just resurrect as a gift.

He resurrected himself—for himself.

Sumei was already scared to death, unable to move or speak. The figure before her was clearly human—tall, maybe 6 feet, his body covered in dirt and strange wounds. A toned physique forged from a harsh journey. Long hair veiled his features.

Of course she was terrified.

He, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice her. He simply stood there, taking only a few steps since emerging from that artificial hell. What he felt—relief? exhaustion? joy?—no one could tell.

Sumei couldn't make sense of what was happening. With trembling hands, she tried to manifest her hoverboard, but her keychain slipped and rolled—right to his feet.

He didn't react.

Didn't move.

Just stood there—silent, like a statue.

Still terrified, Sumei gulped, fully aware this was a do-or-die moment.

"I have to escape... for mother… for my promise."

Gathering her courage, she slowly got up.

Her mind was already formulating a plan:

"This thing… maybe it's asleep? if I don't make a sound, I can grab my keychain…"

She moved forward with trembling steps, as if freezing in the cold. Ironic—fear wasn't unusual for her, despite her life surrounded by graves. She's been working for her mother in these type of graveyards which

"Alright… slow and steady. I'll lose a few [influence points] if I break the chain again."

(In this world, [influence points] act as a currency. Influence represents strength and accomplishments, charisma signifies skills and social power, and talent refers to one's unique potential. The higher your values, the more power and privilege you hold. This system is what allowed the world to eliminate the inferior and promote only those fit to survive. Like a jungle—where the strong live, and the weak perish. This system is called: TRI-ARKHIEM SYSTEM.)

Her mother had promised her:

If she earned 9,000 Influence, she could leave this layer and finally reach the highest floor.

It was her promise to her father.

Her mind flooded with "what-ifs."

"What if it attacks me the moment I reach for it?"

"No… the scent doesn't hold hostility."

"What if it's a prank? I'll lose my points for nothing…"

Still, she inched closer and closer, like a thief sneaking toward an old lady's purse—comical, if it weren't so tense.

"Slowly… slowly…you can't lose even a portion of you 4500 points"

She finally reached her keychain and let out a relieved sigh.

And then—

His body collapsed.

He fell onto her, pinning her beneath him.

Her scream pierced the silence.

Eyes wide in terror.

Her voice cracked and turned desperate.

"No! Please, no! Not my body! Help- Don't assualt me—anything but rape—!"

Her cries didn't stop thinking she's about to get assualted, The terror in her eyes was genuine reminding her of a blurred Event from past. She truly believed this was the end.

After countless attempts to push his heavy body away, she finally realized…

He was unconscious.

Her pleading slowed. Her mind cleared a little. Her breathing steadied. Tears still streamed down her face.

"…He's unconscious… it was scary… really scary…"

The thought of losing Influence so suddenly had shaken her to her core. Yet still a bit shaken, feeling a bit guilty herself for misreading the situation so fast.

As she calmed down, she brushed off the dirt and hair from his face—revealing not a monster, but an exhausted, innocent expression. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady.

But what caught Sumei's attention most…

Was his scent.

"Why does it feel like… he's crying from inside?"

—

Elsewhere…

In the bright heart of the city, one building towered above the rest—broadcasting news, tracking new talents, and showcasing who was passing into higher layers. A symbol of hope for those still climbing.

But not all lights are good for you.

Below this massive complex, in a secured surveillance chamber, digital maps of Layer One flickered across dozens of screens.

An older man named Victor, around 55, stood watching.

"How many left alive this year?" he asked.

His bodyguard, a woman in her 30s, responded calmly:

"113 participated. 78 have been killed during the test. 30 are missing in Layer One. 5 have officially passed to Layer Two."

Victor sighed. He didn't enjoy the deaths—but he accepted them as necessary for progress.

Beneath them, another floor full of operators monitored hundreds of screens.

" K heard my son just reached 900 Influence Points," one bragged.

"Really? What did he do?"

"No idea. But he mentioned some 'Fight Club of History' or something."

"Sounds like he's trying to etch his name into history, one way or another. Haha."

They laughed. To them, watching people fight, suffer, and fail was routine.

They didn't feel remorse.

"They weren't the ones who chose them to suffer," they'd say.

"It's just the way of the world."

But then—

One screen turned red.

Not an alarm.

Not an error.

An Awakening / Awakening was an old concept. A rare event. Usually triggered when a newborn exhibited extreme potential or awareness beyond comprehension.

But this time…

"Uh, sir…" a rookie operator called out nervously.

"Isn't the Awakening signal supposed to be for newborns?"

His senior looked up. "Yeah, what about it?"

The rookie hesitated.

"…It might be a defect, but… we've got an Awakening...And it's not a newborn...it's something really old."

He pointed at the monitor.

The screen displayed name of the location a glowing bright red dot at:

NATIVITAS OF PAX.