The squeak of marker against whiteboard was the only consistent rhythm in a room heavy with dust and the stench of teenager exhaustion. Allisson wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his dress shirt, feeling the cheap fabric stick uncomfortably to his lower back—a dull, nagging ache settling in right at the end of sixth period.
He adjusted his glasses and pointed to the differential equation on the board.
"If we calculate the rate of change..." Allisson trailed off, scanning the room. Half the class was locked onto the wall clock; the other half was pretending to take notes. He let out a quiet sigh. "Forget it. The bell rings in two minutes. Just review page 42 for Thursday's exam."
Before a single student could even pack up, the world stopped.
There was no earthquake. No deafening explosion. Just a sudden, crushing pressure in the chest, as if the oxygen in the room had instantly condensed into solid lead.
The digital clock on the wall flickered twice and died. On the desks, smartphones emitted a sharp, high-pitched hiss before their screens went pitch black all at once. The overhead fluorescent lights sputtered out, plunging the classroom into darkness.
Screams broke out immediately.
"Mr. Allisson? What happened?"
"My phone just died!"
"Is it a power outage?"
Allisson didn't reply. His heart spiked, hammering violently against his ribs.
No electricity? An EMP? No... phone batteries don't short-circuit simultaneously from a standard grid failure.
His analytical mind scrambled to process the anomalies, but a wave of sickening nausea cut his thoughts short. It was a bizarre, unnatural sensation—a cold, crawling sensation surging through his veins, as if his blood was being forcibly replaced by something denser.
Suddenly, pale-blue luminous letters materialized in his field of vision, hovering seamlessly over the darkness.
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[GLOBAL ALERT: YEAR ZERO HAS BEGUN]
Universal Mana Density has reached the Primary Threshold.
Earth restructuring initiated.
All organic lifeforms integrated into the Progression System.
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Allisson blinked hard, rubbing his eyes, but the translucent window tracked perfectly with his line of sight.
Outside, a sickening crunch tore through the air, followed by the screech of tearing metal as dozens of vehicles collided on the avenue adjacent to the school. The confusion in the classroom instantly devolved into raw panic. Desks scraped loudly across the floor as students scrambled blindly toward the exit.
"Stay calm! Do not push!" Allisson shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the hysteria.
As the crowd surged into the hallway, Allisson gripped the edge of his desk to keep his balance. His legs trembled under his weight. The sudden exertion of staying upright while his body absorbed that invisible energy left him fighting for breath.
Six Constitution... a rational voice inside his head mocked. Your physical condition is appalling.
"Focus," he muttered under his breath, taking a slow, calculated inhale to force his heart rate down. "If this is a System... there has to be an interface."
As if answering his thought, the floating prompt shifted.
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[STATUS PANEL]
Name: Allisson (Human)
Level: 1 (0 / 10 XP)
Class: None
[STATS]
Strength: 11 (Slightly above-average load capacity and impact)
Dexterity: 8 (Reduced mobility / Slow response time)
Constitution: 6 (Low physical resistance and limited stamina)
Intelligence: 15 (High logical processing and information retention)
Perception: 16 (High visual processing and spatial awareness)
Mana: 1 (Incipient / Awakened)
[UNIQUE SKILL]
[Infinite Evolution] (Level 1): Grants the ability to alter and refine the user's biological matrix upon reaching progression milestones. (Next milestone: Level 10)
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Allisson parsed the data in milliseconds. His sharp cognitive and observational traits—honed by years of grading exams, catching cheaters in the back rows, and breaking down complex equations—were reflected in his high Intelligence and Perception.
His physical stats, however, were a grim reality check: abysmal agility and tragic stamina.
The average human benchmark is 10. If I try to sprint 500 meters right now, my lungs will burst halfway through.
A guttural, unnatural howl echoed from outside the window.
Allisson moved with quiet, hurried steps to the glass and peered down into the courtyard. The only illumination came from the faint glow of the moon. In the middle of the lawn, a stray dog the students usually fed was violently contorting.
Its bones snapped with loud, sickening pops, reconfiguring its frame. Muscles expanded and tore through its hide as jagged, overgrown fangs erupted from its jaw.
Mana isn't just affecting humans. The entire ecosystem is being forced to evolve.
The hound snapped its head up, its blood-red eyes locking onto a student frantically running across the open yard. With explosive, terrifying speed, the beast closed the distance. The boy barely had time to scream before he was slammed to the dirt. The wet sound of tearing flesh echoed through the night air.
Allisson stepped back, cold sweat running down the nape of his neck. His body instinct told him to run, but cold pragmatism immediately shut it down.
Situation breakdown:
Panic kills: Blindly joining the mob in the dark makes me an easy target for stampedes and predators.
Physical disadvantage: I can't outrun that thing. Its movement speed exceeds baseline human limits.
Local assets: This is a classroom. No weapons, but plenty of mass, leverage, and improvised tools.
He looked around. The room was empty; the students had already scattered down the corridors.
He moved quickly to his desk, grabbing a heavy solid-wood whiteboard eraser and a broom leaning against the corner. Setting his shoe against the plastic bristles, he snapped the broom head off with a hard twist, leaving a splintered, sharp wooden point. It wasn't a proper spear, but it extended his reach.
Reach means leverage. Leverage keeps me alive with 8 Dexterity, he thought, tightening his grip. The splintered wood bit into his palm, but the pain kept him grounded.
Heavy, dragging footsteps began ascending the stairs at the end of the hall. They weren't human—too many contact points, accompanied by the dry click of claws scraping against ceramic tile.
Allisson backed up slowly behind the teacher's desk, keeping the heavy wooden barrier between himself and the open doorway. Dropping to one knee to lower his silhouette, he rested the makeshift spear on the edge of the desk—creating a stable fulcrum to compensate for his lack of upper-body strength.
He took a slow, quiet breath, forcing his lungs to settle, and locked his eyes onto the dark doorframe.
"Come on then," he whispered, tracking every shift in the shadows.