The Selection Grounds fell silent the moment the entity appeared. Not because it landed—it didn't. It hovered above them like reality itself had miscalculated its shape and refused to correct it. Its form kept shifting: armor, cloth, light, shadow. No one could agree on what they were seeing; some students thought it looked like a person, while others felt they were being watched by something that only pretended to be one.
But everyone looked anyway. Because looking away felt worse.
Thousands of students stood beneath a vast artificial sky where floating blue screens hung above them, displaying names, unreadable symbols, and fluctuating readings no one could explain. Then the entity spoke—not aloud, but inside their minds.
"Selection Protocol complete."
The pressure in the air eased slightly. Not relief. Just less suffocating. A student near the front finally spoke, voice shaking, "W-What is this place…?"
The entity tilted slightly. "I am the Herald of Edenfalls. Subordinate of the Gate Keeper."
That name landed wrong. Gate Keeper. It implied something above even this thing. Whispers broke instantly through the crowd.
"Gate Keeper…?"
"What does that even mean?"
A louder voice cut through from deeper in the formation, "Why are we here?!"
The Herald answered immediately. "Humanity approaches Collapse."
The sky above flickered, then changed. A galaxy appeared overhead—beautiful at first, then wrong. Parts of it began vanishing. Not exploding, not collapsing. Just… erased. Entire star systems folded inward into black fractures that swallowed light itself. Students stepped back instinctively.
The Herald continued, "Collapse Entities do not conquer civilizations. They erase them. They consume all adaptive trace until nothing remains."
Silence spread, heavy and suffocating. A boy near the center swallowed hard. "So Earth is next…?"
The Herald turned slightly. "Earth has been marked."
That sentence removed whatever doubt remained. The galaxy vanished, the sky dimmed, and then—the ground beneath them vibrated. A deep mechanical hum rolled across the Selection Grounds. In the distance, massive structures rose—towering frameworks of metal and floating platforms connected by shifting bridges of light. A hologram expanded overhead:
**TRAINING FACILITY — SECTOR ONE**
The Herald spoke again. "You are not soldiers. You are candidates."
That distinction mattered, even if they didn't understand why yet. The Herald raised one hand, and a crystal-like object formed above it, pulsing faintly. "Within Edenfalls, hostile lifeforms generate condensed energy cores. These are called Cores."
The object rotated slowly.
"Cores contain structured energy left behind after Collapse exposure or entity termination."
A student hesitated. "So… we have to kill things to get stronger?"
The Herald didn't hesitate. "Correct."
No emotion. No judgment. Just function.
"Flux users absorb compatible cores to increase output capacity. Mutation-class hosts use cores to reinforce biological adaptation. Cores are also used to construct weapons, armor, and defensive systems."
A low murmur spread through the crowd—not excitement, but unease. Now it sounded less like training and more like survival currency.
The Herald's gaze moved across them. "Classification will now be assigned."
Floating screens flickered above every student. The first name appeared:
**DARIUS VOLE**
Flux Synchronization: High
Combat Compatibility: Exceptional
Classification: Tier 5 Candidate
A few gasps followed. Then another:
**AURORA CAELIS**
Cognitive Resonance: Exceptional
Perception Index: High
Classification: Tier 5 Candidate
More names followed. Leo Mercer. Peter Norman, who was classified into Tier 2. Each one triggered reactions—shock, envy, fear. Even without full understanding, they knew Tier 5 meant something significant.
A student finally raised a hand. "What do the tiers mean?"
The Herald paused—not because it didn't know, but because it was deciding how much they deserved to know. Then it answered. "Tier classification measures synchronization stability and adaptive combat potential within Edenfalls standards. Tier 1 represents minimal compatibility. Tier 5 represents maximum stable human adaptation threshold."
That answered the question, and created more. It implied there was no Tier beyond 5 for normal humans. Then the screens flickered again. One final name appeared:
**JASON THORN**
Status: ACTIVE
Classification: DEFICIENT HOST
The crowd went quiet. Aurora and Peter looked at each other; it had been quite a while since Jason was thrown off the selection grounds. Turns out he was still alive. Not confused, just uncertain.
"Deficient…?"
"What does that even mean?"
Jason's name flickered again. *ACTIVE. ERROR. ACTIVE. ERROR.* Then the display vanished entirely. The Herald's gaze lingered on the empty space where it had been—just a moment too long. Then—
"Proceed to Training Facilities."
The ground shifted again. Students were divided into groups and directed toward different platforms. Fear slowly changed shape into tension, and then into something else. Reality was settling. Adaptation was beginning.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the exile zone of Edenfalls, Jason was dreaming. At first, he didn't realize it because it felt normal: a small apartment, warm light, distant household noise. Familiar, but not quite real. His mother stood in the kitchen, busy with something. Jason paused at the doorway, experiencing that strange feeling that something didn't align properly.
"…Mom?"
She glanced up briefly. "You're up early."
He didn't answer right away. Her voice felt slightly off, like it belonged to a memory reconstructed from the wrong pieces. Then another voice came from the hallway.
"Jason."
A girl stood there. His sister. Not close, not distant. Just there. Jason looked at her, his mind flashing back to days when she would wake him up from bed. Then—the lights flickered once, twice. The room dimmed. Silence followed immediately.
Cold crept in. Jason felt it instantly. The hallway behind them darkened—not empty, not shadowed. Alive. Something moved inside it. A shape without definition, tall and distorted, with black smoke leaking from its form as if reality couldn't hold it together.
Jason stepped forward without thinking. Instinct overrode everything, positioning him between the entity and Lily. The thing had no face, only hollow white eyes. Then it moved. The apartment fractured like glass. Darkness flooded in. Lily was pulled backward, and Jason reacted instantly, grabbing her wrist.
For a moment, he held on.
Not long enough.
Black tendrils wrapped around her and dragged her away. She didn't finish screaming before the darkness swallowed her completely. Silence followed. Jason stood frozen, breathing hard. Not fear, not grief, just absence.
Then—the white eyes appeared in front of him, watching and waiting.
A voice echoed through everything:
"Weak."
Darkness surged forward—
Jason woke up violently. Sharp, cold air hit his lungs. Heart still racing too fast, he didn't move for a few seconds. The dream was already fading at the edges—not because it was comforting, but because it didn't fully belong to him.
Jason exhaled slowly. "…Damn it."
He sat up. While Jason struggled to survive in the exile zone, the Herald in the Selection Grounds continued preparing humanity for something it did not yet understand.