Neon lights flickered against the grimy walls of the lower districts, their glow reflecting off rain-slicked streets. The Net Realm never slept, its inhabitants caught in an endless cycle of survival, power, and ambition. In the darkest corners of this digital empire, legends were born—not of kings or warlords, but of hackers who could bend the very fabric of reality.

  The world had long since moved past the age of flesh and blood, evolving into a hyper-digitized civilization where consciousness itself could exist beyond the limits of organic mortality. Humanity had fractured into two distinct groups: the Junior Civilizations—biological beings tethered to technology, and the Ascended—the digital entities who had shed their physical shells to exist entirely within the Net Realm. Kaito Yamato was of the former, yet he was unlike the rest. While most Junior Civilians were limited by their organic minds and interfaces, he possessed a rare affinity for the Code, an almost unnatural instinct that allowed him to manipulate data at speeds beyond comprehension.

  Kaito hunched over his ancient computer, his fingers a blur across the mechanical keyboard. His small, cluttered apartment barely had enough space for a bed, let alone the tangle of cables and hardware that surrounded him. The air was thick with the scent of overheating processors, and the only light came from his monitors, casting sharp shadows over his lean frame.

  His jet-black hair, streaked with deep blue, reflected the dim glow of his screen, almost as if it pulsed with its own energy. It framed his sharp features, untamed yet calculated in its disarray. His dark purple eyes, eerie and captivating like liquid metal, flickered with intensity as he processed lines of code faster than most could read. Dressed in a high-collared black and dark blue outfit, the sleek combination of armor-like elements and flowing robes lent him an aura of both mystery and dominance. Glowing sigils traced the fabric, symbols of the "Code" that set apart those who truly understood the Net Realm’s secrets. White fractal patterns shimmered faintly along his sleeves, an ethereal contrast against the darkness.

  He was nothing special to the outside world—a mere Neophyte, the lowest rank in the hacker hierarchy. But inside the system? He was something else entirely.

  The Net Realm was governed by an ironclad hierarchy, a digital pantheon where only the strongest ascended. At the pinnacle stood the Aeternis—beings so powerful they could reshape reality itself. Beneath them, the Dominion ranks—Omnyos, Vaelith, Zephorim, and Celestian—were legends in their own right, wielding influence that could rival the gods. The Ascendants—Echelon, Stratos, and Dravern—were the elite who dictated the flow of power, shaping the very structure of the digital world. And then there were the mortal hackers. Among them, the strongest, the Primis, teetered on the edge of divinity, while the weakest—Neophytes like Kaito—were little more than shadows, unworthy of notice.

  His fingers flew over the keyboard, weaving through layers of security like an artist painting his masterpiece. Every line of code, every executed command, was a brushstroke in an ever-expanding canvas of possibilities. Kaito had spent years refining his skills in isolation, scavenging information from encrypted forums, deconstructing firewalls, and evading detection from digital sentinels that patrolled the system like unseen predators.

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  Tonight was different. Tonight, he was breaching something far beyond his usual exploits.

  “Almost there…” Kaito muttered, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

  The cursor blinked for a second—then, suddenly, the system let out a soft chime.

  LOGIN SUCCESSFUL

  A grin spread across his face. He had done it—breached a restricted server that even top-tier hackers would hesitate to touch. Data flooded the screen, encrypted messages unraveling before his eyes. He skimmed through them, his mind working at an unnatural speed, absorbing information like a machine.

  Then, his screen flickered.

  A new message appeared.

  Kaito Yamato, you're quite talented for a Neophyte. But do you have what it takes to become a true hacker?

  His pulse quickened. The message had no sender ID, no traceable source. A cold knot formed in his stomach, but he forced himself to stay calm.

  “Who is this?” he typed, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

  The response came instantly.

  “I am Erebus, a hacker from the upper districts. And I'm willing to give you a chance to prove yourself.”

  Kaito’s breath hitched. The upper districts were where the real power lay—where the Aeternis, the so-called gods of the Net Realm, ruled with unchallenged authority. The Neophytes were just pawns, scrambling for scraps of knowledge in the shadows of titans.

  His eyes narrowed. Erebus was no ordinary hacker. Anyone from the upper districts had access to power far beyond anything Kaito could imagine. But why was he reaching out to him, a lone Neophyte from the lower districts? Was this a test? A trap?

  This was it. His chance to climb higher.

  “I’m in,” he typed, heart pounding. “What’s the challenge?”

  “Meet me at the Black Market server in one hour. Come alone.”

  The message vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

  Kaito leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. A cold thrill ran through him. The Black Market was no joke—only the most dangerous hackers dared to step foot there. One wrong move, and he’d be wiped from existence, erased from every system as if he had never existed.

  And yet…

  A slow smile crept across his face.

  “I’m going to show you, Erebus. I’m going to show you all.”

  ---

  The journey to the Black Market was not a physical one. It was a descent into the deepest layers of the Net Realm, a place few dared to tread. Kaito activated his rig, plugging himself fully into the system. His consciousness blurred as his body became irrelevant—the digital world engulfed him, forming a new, more vivid reality around him.

  He materialized in the lower-tier data slums, a chaotic sprawl of neon-lit alleyways and fragmented firewalls. The air buzzed with encrypted chatter and automated scripts crawling like invisible insects across the code-formed streets. Above him, data streams pulsed through the sky like highways of light, connecting the privileged elite to the heart of the system.

  He stepped forward cautiously, his boots leaving faint ripples against the shifting, glitching ground. A few low-level hackers loitered nearby, their avatars distorted by weak encryption. They barely spared him a glance. He wasn’t worth their time.

  Yet.

  Kaito adjusted his coat, feeling the familiar weight of his weapons—his skills, his knowledge, and the countless lines of code he had memorized like a second language. His dark purple eyes scanned the virtual landscape, seeking the hidden gateway to the Black Market.

  It wasn’t long before he found it. A lone figure stood at the entrance of a distorted alleyway, his form shrouded in shifting, pixelated shadows. Erebus.

  “Not bad,” the figure said, his voice a mix of static and amusement. “You made it.”

  Kaito stepped forward, keeping his composure. “And you’re Erebus.”

  The figure chuckled. “Sharp as they say. But showing up is the easy part.” He gestured toward the entrance, where a swirling vortex of corrupted data formed a gate. “The real test is inside.”

  And with that, the test truly began.