Virelia University – General Rift Studies (GRS) Lecture Hall
Huey slumped in his seat, half-listening, half-wondering if his life choices had led him into an advanced course on how to suffer.
Professor Seiwald, a man whose hairline had clearly fought the Rift and lost, stood at the front, adjusting his holographic console. The giant projection above him came to life, displaying a pulsating scar across the Earth.
"Sixty-two years ago," Seiwald began, "the world as we knew it changed."
The room dimmed as the projection zoomed into South Asia. A jagged rupture split the air above, pulsing like it was angry at existence itself.
"The first Rift manifested in the Himalayan region. At first, it seemed stationary, but within days, it expanded. A month later, it had consumed half the region and started spitting out anomalies."
Huey tapped his pen against his desk, resisting the urge to sigh. "Spitting out"? Really? The Rift wasn't vomiting creatures into existence—it was reconstructing lifeforms, warping biology as it pleased.
Willy, sitting beside him, leaned in. "What do you think? Scary, huh?"
Huey shrugged. "Scary would be if it had wiped out exams along with half a continent."
Willy snorted, earning a glare from Luan two seats down. "Can you two shut up? I'm actually trying to listen."
"You take notes. I critique the professor Balance in the universe," Huey whispered.
The projection shifted to an old black-and-white military recording. A colossal, armored beast stomped through what looked like a city from the 1960s. Tanks fired. Bullets bounced off. Screaming ensued.
"They called these creatures Aberrants," Seiwald continued. "Beings with no evolutionary precedent in our world."
Huey exhaled slowly. Wrong again. Some Aberrants had clear links to extinct species. The Rift didn't just create—it repurposed. But the public preferred dramatic narratives over technical truths.
Seiwald's fingers went across his console, changing the display. A shimmering sigil glowed across a human arm.
"This brings us to the most significant adaptation in human history—the manifestation of Crests."
Crests: The Evolution of Power
Three symbols hovered in the air, rotating slowly.
1. Symbiont Crests – Energy-based abilities. Fire, lightning, gravity, perception-warping—the flashy stuff.
2. Aeon Crests – Enhanced physicality. Strength, speed, endurance—also known as "the ones who always break gym equipment."
3. Shard Crests – Manifested entities. Sentient weapons, creatures, or constructs that acted as extensions of the wielder.
"Each Crest is categorized by power levels, from Level 1 to Level 5," Seiwald said. "However, there exists one final classification."
The hologram darkened, replaced by a single red symbol—complex, pulsing.
"This… is an Omega-Level Crest. The rarest and most unpredictable category."
Murmurs rippled through the lecture hall.
Huey leaned back, unimpressed. Half the population had Crests, sure—but only about 5% were strong enough to matter. That Omega-Level statistic sounded dramatic until you realized it didn't guarantee raw power—just unpredictability.
Beside him, Willy whispered, "So basically, a Crest gacha system. 65% chance of getting powers, 15% chance of being cool, 0.7% chance of being a glitch in reality?"
Huey smirked. "That's one way to put it."
The Rift-Shaped World
Seiwald continued, shifting the hologram to display logos and insignias.
"The Rift reshaped every aspect of society, leading to the formation of elite Units."
The Topplers – The world's premier Rift response unit.
The Sentinel Order – Focused on Rift research and weaponization.
The Gallows Hounds – An independent faction with no clear allegiance.
"And that brings us to Virelia University—the world's foremost Rift Academy."
The hologram expanded, revealing the university's seven faculties.
1. Combat & Field Operations – Future agents and Rift hunters.
2. Research & Development – Rift technology, weapons, energy studies.
3. Logistics & Support – Rift containment and resource management.
4. Tactical Strategy & Intelligence – Crest warfare, security, threat analysis.
5. Criminology & Law – Crest-related crime, legal studies, Rift forensics.
6. Entertainment & Media – How Crests influence arts, media, and industries.
7. Interdisciplinary Studies – For unique Crest applications.
Jonas, from the row ahead, muttered, "I still don't get why we need an Entertainment faculty."
Clara responded without looking up. "You want to control how Crests impact pop culture or let a bunch of celebrities set the narrative?"
Jonas made a face. "…Fair point."
The News Report – Topplers in Action
As Seiwald wrapped up, the hall's main screen switched to a live news feed.
"Earlier today, the legion , An independent faction with Topplers neutralized a Level 3 Rift in northern Canada."
The footage showed elite Crest bearers fighting Aberrants, flashing their abilities like they were filming an action movie.
The camera zoomed in on a muscular guy launching shockwaves, knocking down enemies without a care for collateral damage.
Huey frowned. That wasn't efficiency—that was recklessness. Their frontline was spread too thin. If that had been a Level 4 Rift, half their team would've been wiped.
Some students watched in awe, whispering about joining the legion someday. Others looked nervous.
"Cool," Willy whispered. "But also, uh… did that guy just punch an entire building down?"
Huey sighed. "Yup. But hey, as long as the mission succeeds, nobody asks questions."
As Huey exited the hall, he barely had time to breathe before an annoyingly familiar voice rang out.
"Enjoying the show, Crestless?"
Zac.
A known Aeon-Crest user with the personality of expired milk.
Huey didn't react. No point. Guys like Zac fed off attention.
Zac smirked, stepping closer. "You don't belong here, kid. Stick to watching from the sidelines."
Before Huey could roll his eyes hard enough to sprain something, a sharp voice cut in.
"Back off, Zac."
Josephine.
Zac hesitated—just a little—then scoffed. "Whatever." He walked off.
"Was he really just trying the whole bully the little guy troupe with you, isn't that a bit cliche" willy giggled as those words came out
Huey exhaled, then noticed her.
Mira.
Standing a few feet away, watching. Expression unreadable. Purple-laced white braids swaying as she turned away.
And just like that, she was gone.
Willy nudged him. "Dude. I think that hottie was staring."
Huey frowned. "Yeah. But why?"
The air outside Logistics Hall was filled with the low buzz of holo-displays cycling through Rift containment procedures. Students gathered at the entrance, some adjusting their field gear, others just looking half-asleep. A holographic sign floated above the doors:
"CAUTION: FIELD TASK IN PROGRESS – DO NOT WANDER OFF."
Huey was fairly certain that sign was directed at Leon Greaves, who was already leaning too close to a containment drone, trying to see if it would scan his face.
"Bet I could hack this," Leon muttered, tapping his wristpad. "Rift drones have, like, the worst security."
"Bet you could get expelled," Huey replied dryly.
Before Leon could argue, a gust of wind rippled through the crowd—except there was no wind.
"Wheeler, stop it," Willy muttered, reaching into his hoodie. The tiny squirrel-shaped shard poked its head out, fur shimmering like condensed air currents, and promptly dove back into Willy's sleeve.
Huey raised a brow. "You ever gonna train that thing properly?"
"Training is for people who don't believe in free will," Willy said solemnly.
"That is a terrible excuse."
"Thank you."
Before Huey could argue, the sharp whirr of an approaching hover transport cut through the chatter. The black, armored vehicle descended onto the landing pad, its reinforced frame gleaming under the morning sun.
Then the doors slid open.
Instructor Raines stepped out, looking like he'd been carved from a block of military-grade stone.
The man didn't speak right away—he just let his gaze sweep across the class, probably deciding who would be the first to break formation and get yelled at.
After a long, silent moment, he spoke.
"Get in."
There was a collective shuffle as students hurried into the transport.
The containment zone stretched before them like a landscape from a bad dream. What had once been a dense woodland was now blackened ruins, twisted metal jutting from the ground like broken ribs. The air felt too still—like the world itself was holding its breath.
The moment Huey stepped off the transport, the feeling hit him—that unsettling wrongness, like stepping into a room just after an argument had ended.
Jonas, standing beside him, exhaled sharply. "Yeah. That's not normal."
"Residual Rift energy is still active," Clara Voss murmured, visor flashing as she pulled data. "The readings are fluctuating—way more than they should be."
Huey didn't like that.
Raines moved like a man who had seen too many of these sites before.
"Listen up," he barked. "Topplers handled a Level 3 Rift here yesterday. That means you're walking into unstable territory. Your job is to document and observe. You are not here to fight, experiment, or—" his gaze landed on Leon, who had just lifted a piece of Rift-burned debris "—touch anything."
Leon slowly put the debris back.
They moved through the wreckage, past containment pylons humming with stabilizing energy. Around them, Toppler personnel in heavy-duty exosuits reinforced barriers, secured Riftstone fragments, and operated drones scanning for unresolved anomalies.
Despite the serious atmosphere, Leon was—unsurprisingly—still running his mouth.
"Y'know, they say these containment fields are 98% effective," he said, watching the energy emitters flicker. "Which means there's a 2% chance something horrible happens to us right now."
"Stop talking," Huey muttered.
Jonas, scanning his datapad, frowned. "Residual Rift radiation is off the charts. This place should've settled by now."
Willy's hoodie rustled as Wheeler poked its head out again, tiny ears twitching. The shard chittered softly, eyes fixed on something in the distance.
Huey followed its gaze—
Something moved.
at the edge of the ruins.
Huey's chest tightened. A shape was shifting in the wreckage.
For a second, he thought it was a trick of the light. Then—
A low, guttural sound rippled through the air.
The students froze.
From beneath a collapsed structure, something twitched—then dragged itself free.
An Echo.
Its form twitched, glitching, edges shifting like static, pulsing with unstable plasma energy.
Wheeler hissed, fur bristling with tiny gusts of wind.
Leon swore under his breath. "I thought you said these things don't form after containment."
Huey clenched his jaw. "They don't."
The Echo's head snapped up.
The world seemed to tilt.
Then—
It lunged.
Energy rippled outward, a shockwave slamming against the containment pylons. The barriers strained. The Echo moved again—distorting, as if trying to slip through the cracks of reality itself.
Jonas grabbed Huey's arm. "We're sure we're just here to observe, right?"
Then Raines stepped forward.
No hesitation. No panic. Just pure, unshaken authority.
"Stay down," he ordered.
The Echo twitched violently, form distorting—
And then Raines raised his hand.
A pulse of raw gravitational force erupted from his palm, slamming into the Echo like an invisible hammer. The creature's unstable form shattered, collapsing inward like a dying star imploding.
Silence.
Huey slowly released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
The Topplers moved in immediately, recalibrating the barriers, ensuring the breach was sealed. Wheeler chittered anxiously before retreating back into Willy's hoodie.
Raines turned back to the students. His face was unreadable, but there was a weight in his gaze—a reminder that things were never as controlled as people wanted to believe.
"Lesson one in Logistics," he said, brushing dust off his uniform.
"Nothing is ever fully contained."
The ride back to the university was too quiet. The armored transport rumbled over uneven terrain, but inside, the weight of what had just happened hung heavy. Even Leon, who normally had a joke ready for every situation, had his arms crossed, brow furrowed.
Huey could still feel the static in the air, the way that Echo had turned too fast, reacted too sharply. That wasn't normal.
No one spoke until Raines finally sighed and muttered, "Figures. You nearly get shredded by a Rift remnant and suddenly everyone forgets how to talk."
He leaned forward, eyes sweeping across the students. "Alright. Teach me something. What went wrong?"
Jonas, ever the overachiever, was the first to speak. "The containment field didn't hold."
"Incorrect," Raines said immediately. "The field was working just fine."
Clara adjusted her visor, scrolling through her notes. "The Echo was more intact than expected. Maybe the initial Rift tear left behind a stronger remnant?"
Raines nodded. "Better. But still not quite there." He tapped the Rift Containment logo on his uniform. "What's the actual job of Logistics & Support?"
Silence. Then, from the back—
"Making sure the real agents don't get themselves killed?" Willy offered.
Raines let out a sharp heh. "Close. But if you want the actual answer, it's this—we are the ones who make sure things stay contained."
He paced slowly, each step deliberate. "People think the Rift only spits out monsters. That the danger is something you can see, something you can punch." His voice dipped slightly. "But the real threat is what remains."
Huey's fingers twitched.
"We clean up after Rift events, stabilize compromised zones, ensure no remnants slip through the cracks. Because if we don't? We end up with what you saw today."
Leon raised a hand lazily. "So, like… if we weren't here, those Topplers would've been dealing with that thing in six months, instead of now?"
Raines smirked. "You wish it was six months. Try six minutes."
The class shifted, uncomfortable.
"Residual Rift activity is unpredictable. That Echo wasn't just a fluke—it was a failure in containment. And that?" Raines' expression darkened. "Is exactly why we exist."
No one had anything to say to that.
Outside, the landing bay of the university loomed ahead. The transport lurched as it touched down.
Raines crossed his arms. "Alright, class dismissed. Go write a report about what you learned, or whatever helps you sleep at night."
With that, the doors hissed open.
One by one, students filed out. Jonas and Clara were already debating Rift activity metrics. Willy had Wheeler perched on his shoulder, the tiny shard sniffing the air suspiciously.
Huey followed—until he didn't.
As the others headed toward the main hall, he slowed his steps. Then, with a final glance at Raines—who was distracted by a message on his wristpad—he turned sharply and slipped into the side corridor.
The path back, although long was quieter now.
Most of the Topplers had finished securing the area. The containment pylons hummed softly, stabilizing the Rift's residual energy.
Huey crouched near the wreckage, running a hand over the charred ground. Something felt off.
The Rift was cleared yesterday. Echo remnants weren't supposed to manifest with that much awareness. They were fragments—memories at best. But the one from earlier? That moved with intention.
He exhaled slowly. "Alright… what am I missing?"
Then—
The ground flickered.
Like a distorted reflection in a broken mirror, the air rippled—a shifting pulsing thing clawing its way into reality.
His breath caught.
Another one.
Not just any Echo—the same one.
It hadn't been destroyed. It had been waiting.
The moment Huey moved, it lunged.
His body reacted before his brain did. He dodged left, but the creature twisted unnaturally, cutting him off.
Too fast. Too aware.
A sharp burning pain lanced through his side. He barely processed it before he was thrown backwards, skidding across the ground. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Huey tried to push himself up—too slow.
The Echo was already there.
It loomed over him, pulsing, between existence and something worse.
His vision blurred.
He felt lightheaded—blood loss. His fingers trembled as he tried to push himself up again. No strength.
Then—
A voice.
Not from the Echo. Not from the world around him.
From somewhere deeper.
A whisper, steady and firm—like a hand reaching out from the dark.
"do you fear death??,
His breath caught.
Then—everything went black.