"Yes, finally, this is the last step. Careful, everyone," the man in a white coat yelled. He was an old, bald man wearing glasses. On the left side of his chest was a badge stating his position as the Head Researcher.
"Connect to our boss. Perfectly," the man continued, loudly instructing everyone. In the research facility, a fist-sized crystal floated at the center, with several machines connecting it to multiple computers. Researchers and scientists worked at their stations under the old man's commands.
The boss sat comfortably on a sofa, watching everything in the room with confidence. He wore a black suit that made him look even more imposing. Stylish sunglasses rested on his face, reflecting the surrounding machines.
He was a middle-aged man—neat and calm—but his eyes told a different story. Behind that calmness lay a strong sense of dominance and arrogance.
"Shit… shit… shit… something is wrong with the systems."
"I can't access it anymore."
The head researcher started screaming. "What's happening? Let me see it!" He pushed a researcher off his chair and began typing furiously on the keyboard, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
The confidence on his face slowly drained. Sweat covered his forehead, his hands trembled, and he kept missing the keys as he typed. After a while, his hands stopped altogether. His face froze in shock.
"What happened? Why can he access so many of our computers?" the middle-aged man asked coldly.
The old head researcher turned around, his face drenched in sweat. "O… our systems are ha… hacked, sir."
The crystal destroyed itself with a loud BOOM.
Several machines shattered as smoke filled the entire research facility.
Before the smoke could clear, a loud scream of pain echoed.
"Haaaaaa!"
As the smoke dispersed, they saw the old researcher lying on the ground, stabbed. He cried and rolled in agony as blood soaked his white coat and dripped onto the floor. Life slowly drained from his eyes.
The man removed his sunglasses and stared at the remaining researchers. Every single one of them trembled under his cold gaze, lowering their eyes in fear.
He hurled the bloodstained knife across the room with a violent swing.
"Motherfucker… I'll find out who you are."
----
Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap.
In the hospital room, the faint scent of medicine lingered in the air. The only sound breaking the silence was the rapid clicking of keyboard keys. A young man in his twenties sat upright against a raised hospital bed, dressed in thin, striped hospital clothes. Medical machines surrounded him, their soft beeping steady and constant. His lower half lay motionless beneath the blanket—completely disabled.
All of his attention was fixed on the laptop in front of him.
Sweat rolled down his forehead as a small, hidden smile of victory formed. With a slightly trembling finger, he pressed the Enter key.
New text appeared on the screen:
"Successfully disengaged the original connection."
Time passed…
"The System is successfully connected to [Rael]."
He let out a shaky laugh and slammed both hands down in triumph.
"Yes!"
But the moment of joy didn't last.
A sharp pain struck his heart.
He knew instantly—it was the end. The overdose of medicines he had taken was finally taking effect. A cold, empty sensation swallowed his chest, slowly erasing the happiness he had felt moments ago. His mind grew numb. He had achieved his goal. He had taken his revenge. Yet, standing at the doorstep of death… he felt nothing at all.
What was the purpose of doing all this?
As his life replayed in fragmented flashes behind his eyes, emotion surged back. So much had happened. So much suffering. And yet, when he looked back at everything he had accomplished in the end, he felt satisfied.
His breathing weakened. His vision darkened. The heart monitor beside him beeped rapidly as the numbers dropped. He heard distant footsteps—nurses rushing toward him—but the world was already fading.
His eyes closed completely, sinking into darkness.
And even in death, a faint sign of victory remained on his face.
Yet the question lingered—had revenge truly satisfied him?
The answer was both yes and no.
----
Around Eighteen years later.
Knock knock.
"Drayen! Drayen! You'll be late for school, Drae! Wake up, honey!"
Hearing the annoying knocks and his mom's voice, he covered his ears, but the sound only grew more annoying. "I'll get up, Mom, just give me a minute!" he yelled.
He slowly opened his eyes feeling a heavy weight on them. They were completely red he had gamed all night and slept only an hour. His room was a battlefield with empty chip bags ,scattered textbooks, glowing monitor and a half open energy drink can dangerously close to spilling.
"Haaaw" he yawned.
His mom started knocking louder. Drayen rolled off the bed dramatically. "Fine! Fine! I'm up! Stop knocking like a debt collector!"
From the hallway: "I will collect your life if you miss the first day of your university!"
The door swung open, and his mom peeked in with a sweet smile. "You're awake?"
"Yeah, yeah..." he replied, scratching his head and wobbling like a zombie. His mom was a beautiful woman in her forties who looked nearly fifteen years younger. Her shoulder length black hair was tied loosely, a few strands falling across her cheek. Looking at her apron she must have been cooking but came to wake her son. She narrowed her eyes "Drayen. Did you sleep at all?"
"Of course I did" he lied.
She swung her right hand fiercely, and Drayen closed his eyes, ready for the slap, but her hands slowed down as she gently flicked his forehead. "Liar. Go fresh up You look like a zombie who failed at being a zombie." Drayen groaned and stumbled toward the bathroom, tripping over clothes.
After a few minutes.
He was still relaxed as he got out of the bathroom. He had wrapped his lower half with a towel, his hair wet. He checked the clock. Shit, shit, shit—I will be late. He started dressing as fast as he could. He was still a mess as he put two books in his bag and headed downstairs.
His hair was still wet and messy, and he wore his new uniform very badly.
His mom spoke, "Hey, you are still a mess, boy."
"Mom, it's getting late."
His mom yelled as she saw him wearing shoes to go out, "At least eat breakfast, Drae!"
"Mom, it's late. I'll eat during break. Bye-bye!"
He opened the door and slipped outside in a rush.
She gave a long sigh, looking at her messy son leave.
The classroom echoed with the voice of the professor introducing himself as Drayen rushed to the door.
"Huff, huff… Excuse me, sir," he called out. It was the first day of university, and obviously everyone was already present—but he was the only one who was late.
The professor was a man in his thirties with a stylish beard, his hair white at the sides. He looked friendly enough.
"Late on the first day, huh? Come in, boy," he said.
The whole class murmured softly. Single desks were arranged in neat rows. There wasn't much space in the front seats, so Drayen moved toward the last row, still breathing raggedly. He was about to sit down when someone from the other side spoke in a low voice.
"Drayen, Drayen, come here."
Drayen turned around to see his annoying classmate—the guy he had been stuck with all the way from middle school. And now he was here again. He had been the class representative throughout middle school and high school. His name was Fedric. He was shorter than Drayen, with a lean build, neatly combed blonde hair, and spectacles.
Drayen let out an annoyed internal sigh, but since he was new here, he figured it was better to sit with him than alone.
"Gi… give me the window seat—huff… huff," he said as he slid in beside him.
"By the way, I didn't know you were so good with computers," Fedric said with a friendly smile.
"Honestly, I didn't expect anyone from our school to get into this uni."
Drayen scratched his head and smiled. "It's just my luck I got into this university."
The professor cleared his throat.
"Students, welcome to Etherion University. Let me introduce myself again. My name is Marcellus Dordo. I'll be teaching basic programming and computer skills. You are the talented batch that managed to enter this university, so bla… bla… bla…"
He continued rambling for another minute.
Drayen didn't know whether getting into this university was good luck or bad luck. In truth, he had been forced to join. He hadn't done well in the national exam, so his only chance was to apply through the university's own entrance tests.
He took several exams for different schools under the university—arts, computer science, physical studies, and so on—but he never expected to score so well in computer science.
The moment his mom saw the results, she practically kicked him straight into the admission office.
Etherion University was one of the most prestigious institutions in the country, especially famous for two fields: Mysterious Science and Computer Science. Their entrance exams were notoriously strict.
So how did someone as average as Drayen get in?
Only God knew.
"Hey, Drayen," Fedric whispered. "Do you know there are rumors about the mysterious science course here?"
Drayen shrugged. "No man. Don't know much about it."
Fedric leaned closer. "There's a rumor that mysterious science is the best department in the entire university. But the weird thing is—they don't choose students based on exam results. Even if you pass the entrance exam, they still won't take you."
Drayen replied, completely unbothered. "Man, I don't even know what mysterious science is. I checked a few low-tier universities, but their courses were useless. Most of them are shutting down anyway."
—Mysterious Science.
Drayen had been curious once. He had actually wanted to take that course here… but he'd been rejected.
Rumors said the field held immense value if studied at a top university like this one. And strangely, Drayen knew more about it than most people—yet the deeper he searched, the less he found.
Threads vanished. Posts were deleted. Conversations ended abruptly.
That digging was how his computer skills had grown in the first place.
Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it wasn't.
He never found proof of anything concrete.
Now, it hardly mattered. He had already joined Computer Science, and thinking about a course he didn't get into felt pointless.
With a quiet sigh, Drayen pushed the thoughts aside.