<Hacking Intent/>

A wave of exhaustion hit me the second I shut the door to my room. School was a blur, and I didn't even remember the lesson on "Talent Bureau Protocols."

I tossed my bag onto the floor, flopped onto my bed, and stared at the ceiling. A storm of thoughts churned in my head—questions, mostly—about this world, my abilities, and the ridiculously overpowered system at my fingertips.

After a while, I sat up, pulling the thin, futuristic tablet from my desk. School assignments first. Not that I was in any mood for them, but it gave me something to do while I tried to process the whirlwind that my life had become.

The tablet's holographic interface blinked to life, displaying rows of interactive menus and sleek icons.

I hated this thing.

It felt too perfect, too polished, too... unhuman.

It reminded me of how sterile and controlled everything was in this world.

Here, technology wasn't the tool, it was the master, and GAIA was its god.

I swiped through my assignment, the details gliding smoothly across the screen. The task was mundane, something about analyzing population density in urban zones. I barely paid attention, my mind wandering back to my abilities.

Technomancer.

The word still hung in my thoughts like an unsolved puzzle. It wasn't just a class—it was an enigma. A blend of technology and magic, fused into something neither of this world nor the one I'd left behind.

It was... alien.

And yet, it felt like it belonged to me. Like a missing piece finally sliding into place.

Strength was something tangible, something I could train. Luck, though? The concept itself felt like a cruel joke.

Luck wasn't on my side, though. It never had been. Whether it was school, life, or, you know, being assassinated by a shadowy figure in my past life, I always seemed to end up on the short end of the stick.

Forget it. No stat booster was going to save me from my eternal streak of bad rolls.

My fingers hovered over the tablet as I stared blankly at the glowing interface. The assignment wasn't going to finish itself, but my focus was somewhere else entirely.

With a resigned sigh, I pushed the tablet aside. Maybe it was time to stop dancing around the real problem. I didn't need to focus on the mundane. I needed answers—real ones.

What was I?

I reached out, pulling the translucent HUD into existence with a flick of my hand. It shimmered faintly in the dim light of my room, displaying a neat grid of menus.

GAIA's interface was efficient, elegant, and painfully barebones when it came to my stats. There was nothing unusual listed—just the basics.

Strength: Low.

Agility: Below Average.

Intelligence: Moderate.

Luck: Nonexistent.

"Ugh," I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Figures."

The Technomancer class was there, neatly categorized under a subheading called Technical Specialist. No flashy descriptions, no world-breaking abilities.

Just... tech support.

If I didn't know any better, I'd think GAIA was trolling me.

But I did know better. The system wasn't showing me the truth.

I waved my hand to close the GAIA HUD display.

I closed my eyes and focused, letting the thought of Codebreaker surface in my mind. The familiar black overlay flickered into view.

Unlike GAIA's HUD, Codebreaker's interface was sharp, dark, and unfiltered. It wasn't here to babysit or hold my hand—it was raw power wrapped in a cold, digital package. The skull icon glared back at me like a challenge.

I hesitated for a moment. Was I ready to see what was really under the hood?

"Voice command," I said aloud, testing the waters.

The response was instant. A smooth, synthetic voice echoed in my mind. "Voice command detected. Please state your request."

I blinked. Okay, that was new.

"What is Technomancer?" I asked cautiously.

"Technomancer: A hybrid specialization combining advanced technological manipulation with latent energy control. Capable of interacting with, modifying, and creating digital constructs within system-based frameworks."

I frowned. "That's... vague."

But it was a start. I decided to push further. "Explain EX rank."

The system hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—but it was enough to make my heart race. Then the voice returned, colder than before.

"EX rank: A designation for individuals whose abilities surpass measurable parameters. Classified as 'Apex' within system hierarchy."

I sat back, staring at the display. Apex?

That wasn't just rare—it was unheard of. Most people peaked at S rank, maybe SSS if they were lucky. But EX? It was practically mythical.

Excitement bubbled in my chest as the realization sank in. I wasn't just some low-level technician. I was something entirely different—something extraordinary.

A grin spread across my face. "Holy crap," I whispered, adrenaline surging. "I'm overpowered."

Power. Freedom. A class beyond the ordinary.

I clicked on the Skills tab, expecting to see a long list of powerful abilities. But instead, there was only one skill listed—a passive skill. My excitement quickly faltered as I read the description.

[System Cloaking: A sophisticated, high-level stealth mechanism allowing it's user to mask digital presence.]

I leaned back on the couch and sighed. Just one skill? What a buzzkill. I was expecting something flashy. Something that screamed "I'm a god!" But this? 

I clicked on the skills features to inspect it.

[System Cloaking: Rank Concealment, Skill and Attribute Masking, Undetectable Anomalies, False Stat Generation, Masking Aura and Energy Signature, Self-Sustaining.]

I blinked. Wait a second. Actually...this wasn't a bad skill. In fact, it was damn useful.

System Cloaking wasn't about raw power, it was about hiding that power. It masked everything about me from Gaia's prying eyes. I could walk through this world undetected, while everyone around me believed I was a mere D-rank technician.

It made sense, though. If I wanted to stay off Gaia's radar, I needed something like this. The skill would help me fly under the radar, blending in with the rest of the world while keeping my true power hidden.

"Not bad," I muttered to myself, a smile creeping onto my face. "I guess it's exactly what I need right now."

Just then, a notification pinged in my HUD.

GAIA Talent Bureau

"Welcome, New Talent!

Congratulations on your successful awakening! You are now officially recognized by the GAIA Talent Bureau as an Awakened Talent and are part of an elite force maintaining balance and security in our world."

I skimmed through the message, only half-reading it, my mind still racing. The talent academy. A place where I'd be trained, where I'd unlock more abilities. A place where my potential could be realized—or controlled.

I sighed.

"One more thing to worry about," I muttered.

I scrolled through the rest of the message, my eyes stopping on the line that caught my attention: 'Prepare to unlock your potential and join a legacy of service and honor!'

Yeah, sure. Service to GAIA. Service to the system that had everything under control. Or maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to redefine what service meant.

Then, an idea popped into my head.

What if I could change my academy assignment?

I knew the GAIA Enforcer Academy had a reputation for producing the best, the most powerful. My brother, Damian had gone there, though he was far weaker than most.

But me? I had the potential. I could change my assignment with a little help from my talents.

I took a deep breath. My fingers hovered over the skull icon again.

Should I?

I glanced at the notifications scrolling by on my HUD. Five days. Five days until I was officially assigned to an academy. That was all the time I had to make my move.

The skull icon pulsed faintly, as if daring me to dig deeper. I clicked on it without hesitation, and the world shifted.

Suddenly, the room was gone, replaced by a swirling grid of numbers and symbols. It was the digital backbone of GAIA's system, laid bare before me. I felt a rush of familiarity—this was my world, my playground.

"GAIA Talent Bureau", I thought, commanding the system.

The faint traces of the code responded. Numbers and letters, broken into a cascading array of symbols, appeared before my eyes. I could feel the tension building. I couldn't afford to mess this up. With each breath, my hacking instinct sharpened, my mind working faster than ever before.

And then… a message popped up:

[Detecting hacking intent.]

[Condition met.]

[Initiating System Hacking...]

My eyes widened. Hacking intent?

The digital world around me pulsed with energy, and I felt the rush of power surge through me as I realized I had done it.

[Hacking into GAIA Talent Bureau.]

[Successful.]

[Please issue command.]

The world froze. The lines of code hung in the air like a tapestry, revealing the most intimate details of Gaia's system. It was all laid bare before me. And I had control. 

Now, I thought, now it's time to change my future.

I smiled.

I was in.

And just like that my hacking ability is in full mode. 

"Let's see what you're hiding," I muttered, my hands moving instinctively through the cascading streams of data.

Lines of code danced around me, responding to my touch. The system wasn't just a tool—it was alive, pulsating with raw energy. And I was in control.

I focused on a specific thread of code labeled Talent Bureau Assignment. With careful precision, I began rewriting the parameters, adjusting my profile to ensure I'd be sent to the GAIA Enforcer Academy.

The process was exhilarating, like slipping into an old routine. My hacker instincts kicked in, guiding me through the intricate maze of security measures.

But just as I was about to finish, a warning message flashed across the screen.

[ALERT: Unauthorized access detected.]

[System lockdown imminent.]

Panic shot through me. I'd tripped something—a safeguard I hadn't accounted for. The grid around me pulsed angrily, and the lines of code began to collapse.

"No, no, no," I muttered, frantically trying to stabilize the hack.

The skull icon glowed brighter, and a new message appeared.

[Codebreaker Override Activated.]

[System lockdown neutralized.]

I exhaled sharply as the grid stabilized. Relief flooded my chest, but it was short-lived. This wasn't just a simple hack. I had stirred the beast, and I wasn't sure what the consequences would be.

A new notification popped up in my HUD.

[GAIA Talent Bureau Update: Academy Assignment Revised.]

[Congratulations, you have been reassigned to the GAIA Enforcer Academy.]

I stared at the message, a mix of triumph and dread swirling in my chest. I'd gotten what I wanted, but this was only the beginning.

"Alright," I muttered, a determined grin spreading across my face. "It's time I prep myself for the academy."