FLAW

Slumping to the floor beside him, Sumei opened her interface:

[Name: Sumei]

[Age: 18]

[Influence: 4289 (-211)]

[Charisma: 1001]

[Potential: 987]

She groaned.

"Lost 211 Influence Points today… damn it. Guess I'll need to work extra hours again."

> (In this world, Influence Points are everything. Earned by benefitting society or completing FEATs—dangerous challenges with high rewards. Most non-Awakened rely on smaller tasks. Sumei was one of them.)

"What a pain..." she muttered.

Her eyes drifted toward the unconscious man. He hadn't moved an inch.

"I wonder what his Influence stats are…"

Curious, she activated her scanner and pointed it at him.

When the results loaded, her breath caught.

[NAME: ???]

[AGE: ???]

[INFLUENCE: ERROR]

[CHARISMA: ERROR]

[POTENTIAL: 0]

"...What the—?!"

Confused and baffled, Sumei refreshed the system—twice.

Still the same.

"No way... how is that even possible?" she muttered.

"Everything about this guy is unknown—except his Potential is zero."

"So... the system could read him, but couldn't understand him...but why? Even babies don't have 0 potential points."

Her mind raced.

"Does that mean even the TRI-ARKHIEM SYSTEM has no data on him? No history?"

She started pacing the room.

"Did I just dig up some ancient being from a forgotten era? Wait, no... if that were true, my Influence should've jumped by at least 1000!"

She paused, chewing her thumb.

"Should I call security?"

The thought lingered.

"It'd be safer... I'd earn points... but what would I say? What if I get dragged into a bigger mess? What if mother finds out?"

Then she remembered:

"Right. Mom's out of town for a week."

Phew.

She sighed in relief and looked back at him.

"Well, for now, I just need to figure out how to wake this 'grandpa' up."

Scanning him with her wrist gadget, she found... nothing wrong. No health issues. No toxins. No disease.

"Hmm… so he's just... sleeping? Do old people sleep this much? Or Is this a 'grandpa coma'? Should I call an archeologist bot?"

---

MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE GRAVEYARD

The nanobots scoured the site, still executing Layer Zero protocol. One slipped into the shattered gravehole...

Then it started.

A deep rumble.

Sharp cracks.

The earth split apart.

Something rose.

The creature towered at 50 meters, a monstrous centipede-like form that rippled with armored segments from head to tail. Its body was a dark, chitinous black with deep crimson veins pulsing just beneath the surface, giving it a grotesque, living sheen. Hundreds of jagged legs clicked and scraped against the ground with every movement, each tipped with curved, blade-like claws that tore into the earth. Its head was massive and alien, with rows of serrated mandibles and clusters of glowing, lidless eyes that shimmered like cold fire. The air around it trembled with a low, chittering hum—like metal grinding against bone. A nightmare of motion, it slithered forward with both terrifying grace and unstoppable weight—burst from the underground, catching the attention of the nanobot swarm and the monitoring crew.

Inside the control room:

"Disintegrate the target!" an operator shouted.

The fairy-like nanobots swarmed, multiplying by the thousands, coating the creature in a glowing veil. Flames ignited.

4,000°C of concentrated heat burned through the beast's carapace...

But it didn't work.

Victor's jaw tightened. Calm on the outside. Calculating inside.

His secretary hesitated. "Sir, should we initiate—"

"Proceed with [SELF-DESTRUCT]," Victor ordered coldly.

"But sir—over 10,000 bots are already deployed. If we do that—"

"We don't negotiate with relics. That place holds no future."

She fell silent.

BOOM.

One explosion. Then another. And another. A chain of controlled detonations.

When the smoke cleared, only ash remained.

The NATIVITAS OF PAX—wiped from the map.

---

CITY REACTION: ZYRLÓVIA

The tremors spread. News broke fast across the city through holographic feeds.

"Yo, that earthquake shook everything!"

"Good thing Nanashi Group handled it. Heard they've got freak-level clearance."

"They nuked a graveyard, bro. What kinda crap wakes up underground?"

---

NEON DISTRICT: NIGHTLIFE AND DANGER

In a shadowed alley of the Neon District, Iris Vale—mid 20's, graceful, deadly—moved through the crowd like a wolf among sheep. Her white outfit—clean lines, luminous fabric, and subtle detailing across her sleeves. Her form-fitting suit shimmered faintly, with translucent panels and chrome accents hinting at both elegance and utility. Platinum white hair fell straight down her back, a glowing filament woven through like a quiet circuit. Her face was expressionless—calm, unreadable, and hauntingly poised.

She scanned the twisted nightlife: criminals, augmented elites, and glass-eyed cyberjunkies. She ignored it all.

She had one name.

One location.

And a reason.

Outside a steel door—unmarked but humming—she summoned her weapon.

A scythe, materializing from her bracelet.

SHRING—

The metal parted like paper.

Inside, red lighting. Thick air. The Coil.

She descended metal stairs into a room filled with twitchy millionaires and criminals

And at the back... in a private booth...

Morrin Nyviel.

Mid-20s. Too relaxed. her body draped in confidence more than clothing. Nearly bare, her smooth skin was a canvas for a dark, intricate a neon tattoo that flowed from just beneath her stomach down to her thighs—fluid, organic, almost alive. Her face held a naturally seductive calm—lips slightly parted, eyes half-lidded with a lazy allure, Every curve, every glance, was unforced—pure, relaxed temptation.

Iris approached.

"Why choose Layer One as your hideout? You know higher layers can watch whenever they want."

Morrin yawned.

"Well it's just...I don't see anyone checking the trash."

She casually wiped her cheek, the motion pulling her top just enough to reveal the succubus tattoo curling along her toned stomach.

"Yet here we are... Morrin Nyviel. Criminal #407."

Morrin chuckled.

"Relax, goddess of death. I have a reason to be here. Aren't you going to interrogate me, like a proper officer?"

Iris nodded slightly.

"True. I don't kill without reason. But I'm still waiting to hear it."

Morrin smirked—until something cold touched her neck. She froze.

Iris's scythe.

"Don't mistake mercy for weakness. Speak something that stops my scythe from cutting you in Pieces."

---

Morrin still shows no sign of fear but smiles with confidence.

"Alright alright...One of the deleted files just came back online… in Layer One."