“Heya, conqueror, whatcha doing?”


    “Just watchin’.” I held my water-bottle between my legs as Mom taught my little sister a thing or two about throwing a punch. As well as you could teach an eight-year-old anyway. Mom was half-playing and half-teaching, encouraging Thea to work her tiny arms.


    Dad patted my back and sat down next to me. “You know something? I think your sister’s gonna be as gifted as you are.”


    I shook my head, scowling. “I’m not ‘gifted,’ stop calling me that—” (“You are—”) “No—!” (“You completely are—!”) “I’m not! Seriously, I’m not, so cut it out!”


    “Easy, easy, don’t tear my head off!” Dad laughed at my expense. “I’m teasing you, s’all.’


    In protest, I turned away and continued to watch Thea. This time, she tried doing a high-kick but toppled over harder than a tower of blocks. Mom attempted to stifle a laugh. However, a snicker leaked through and that made the little brat upset, and as we all knew, you never make Althea Shen upset. In an instant, she delivered a brutal beatdown to the woman who’d brought her into this world. No one could survive that.


    Dad quietly chuckled to himself, scratching his chin. “By the way, I finally got that email from your teachers.”


    “Huh?”


    “The System stuff. Y’know, the…” He vaguely motioned with his hand. “The recruiters, that’s it. You’ll have JSPs across the county coming to your school soon.”


    Right, my homeroom teacher mentioned that this morning. She hyped it up, said it was going to be the “biggest opportunity yet” for us middle-schoolers. We’d have JSPs giving their sixty-seconds to try and convince a bunch of thirteen-year-olds to [Register] in their academies. Nothing sounded better than a bunch of hormonal teenagers with superpowers studying in a single place.


    Didn’t like the idea now, didn’t like it then.


    I dismissively shrugged. “Thought you and Mom didn’t want me [Registering].”


    “I—well, you’re not wrong. We don’t like the idea of you going somewhere far—too many bad influences—but we aren’t burning that bridge. You’re thirteen, Alex, about to turn fourteen soon. That’s when all these…” He bit his lip. “All these scum wanna snatch impressionable kids from the cradle. But you’re different. If you wanna [Register], we’ll make it happen. On our own terms.”


    Yeah, the culture hadn’t changed much since I was a kid. We slept in Legends Guild pajamas, dressed up as the Sovereigns for Halloween, wrote journals in elementary school about our favorite swords, and dreamed of being the next Kosmos. We watched TV shows, read novels, scrolled through social media, everything. They were our superheroes, and we could be like them by signing away our “freedom” to the Slayer System.


    As for our family? We were skeptics. All of us.


    I stared absently at Mom and Althea. “I’m not that into it. I’d rather do something else other than being a sword, y’know?


    Dad’s smile got wider hearing my answer, guess it really made him happy. “Like what?”


    I shrugged and gave a dismissive hum. What did Dad expect from a thirteen-year-old? To be fair, the recruiters were much worse. At the time, I wasn’t thinking about my future; all I thought about was dinner and homework. That’s it. Dinner and homework, as someone my age should think about.


    But if I had to imagine myself ten years from today…


    “I dunno,” I said. “Maybe I could go into the Marines like Uncle, or visit the Jianghu, or travel ‘round the world like Ordo or Cirropolis. I haven’t really figured it out yet, but I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can be anything I want.”


    Anything I want, huh? Yeah, I could’ve been anything. A mil, a heroic xia traveling the plains, a detective by day and superhero by night, a CEO of a Fortune 500, the next SSS-Rank Slayer—the possibilities were endless. Had been endless. Ten years from that day, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was jobless. Aimless. My life, instead of being a series of well-calculated steps, was a chain of accidents and tragedies.


    I could never mind my own business, like System Articles.


    I could never carve my own path, like now.


    For someone like me, the “peace” I kept whining about… It never existed in the first place.


    ***


    “Ugh…”


    “Easy, easy.”


    “D-Dammit…”


    “I got you, hang on.” Someone was holding onto me: a blurry face that wasn’t my sister’s, but my caretaker was twice as ugly and had a grating voice. “Don’t move too much, and please, don’t yank the IV out of your arm, okay?”


    “I’m not an idiot…” I muttered out of reflex as she helped me sit against a pillow. When was the last time I felt this terrible? Head was woozy, body was aching, everything had pins-and-needles. If I tried climbing out of bed, I’d earn myself another concussion.


    My undertaker laughed and took a few steps back. “You don’t exactly inspire confidence. Now.” She held up three fuzzy fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”


    I squinted at her. “Empress.”


    “That’s not a number, but alright, looks like you didn’t suffer any brain damage. I—oh.” Empress grabbed something from the side-table and handed it to me. My glasses. “I should’ve given you this first. Sorry, I’m new to this nursing thing.”


    I put them on and the world got a whole lot clearer. “Yeah, well, you’re better at putting people in the hospital than the other way around. Jokes aside…”


    Finally, I established my bearings. To no one’s surprise, this was an ordinary hospital room—most likely Angels Headquarters Hospital. In the opposite corner of the room, a mounted TV had the Ordoian News. The volume was too low to hear anything. Didn’t need to, because they had the headlines in big and bolded letters: “BREAKTHROUGH INCIDENT AT PRIMORDIAL PLAZA!”


    It was a little after twelve o’clock… I was out the entire morning.


    Empress turned the TV off. “Officially-speaking, Angels and Wisdom Guild handled the breakthrough with no casualties other than the taxpayers’ wallets. Nobody knew we were there, but besides that, thanks for surviving. The Alt got you, Shen, but thankfully your [Armor] prevented anything serious. Really, your mana burnout was more severe. We had to get you to a healer before your [Registration] ended.”


    This was my luckiest hospital visit to date. [Yuzhou] and [Forged Skin] saved my life, and my [Registration] lasted long enough to receive healing. Ordinary humans couldn’t be treated by healers, after all. They’d die, painfully, from the mana intake. In exchange for fast and effective treatment, however, my body would be ridiculously fragile throughout the recovery period. A punch from a five-year-old could break a rib.


    But there was a bigger issue at hand.


    I asked, “Where’s everybody else?”


    “I notified them already. They should be coming around at any second.” A knock on the door startled me. Made my aching muscles act up, dammit. “They just came around.”


    “Not yet, Empress,” said the visitor, a nun in white and gold cloth. Judging from the shiny badge clipped to her robes, she was probably a faith healer working for the hospital. As the stereotype went for healers, mine was overworked and took no bullshit. “Thanks for watching my patient while I deal with his family.”


    “You’re welcome, sweetheart—”


    “Please get out.”


    “Right, sorry, I’ll just uh...” Empress left the room and abandoned me to the healer.


    One check-up later, my post-op appointment concluded. I had my instructions, my prescriptions to help with recovery, and a lengthy explanation of my unique medical status. The healer threatened me to not do anything stupid or else she would “activate [Temporary Registration] on my behalf.”


    After her kind words, she fetched my “family and superiors,” which meant we could finally discuss what had transpired last night.


    A party bumbled into my room, starting with Celestial Empress who showed a sympathetic smile. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    Following her was Ordoian royalty. Kissing his feet was the bare minimum you could do to show respect. He was an unreasonably pretty dark-skinned man. Had smooth and silky midnight hair, no blemishes on his skin, and a natural charm that could seduce men and women alike. Put him in a beauty pageant and he’d win the whole thing. Today, he sported front-cover fashion: long and flowing red robes adorned with golden jewelry and decadent gems—his [Great Spirit Parure], the catalyst he needed to summon his [Paracelsian Elements]. Vice Guild Master Rector and the CEO of Angels Guild. In other words, second-in-command of the systemic ladder but top dog of the corpos. One of the most powerful and influential men in the Slayer Capital.


    Sophos trekked behind him, yawning and rubbing her eyes. My little sister hobbled inside next, twice as tired as the Guild Master. She had gauze tightly wrapped around her forearms. Right, she’d sustained burn wounds wielding Firebrand’s sig.


    I had one more guest: a middle-aged man who looked like your local pastor. First thing he did was take in his surroundings. From the room’s dimensions to the number of dust-bunnies sitting in the corner. Every single detail, nothing escaped him. He rubbed his arms, fidgeted with his fingers, picking at the surgical scars on his arm hidden by ink. I was the last thing he set his green eyes on. He swept his faded chestnut hair away from his glasses and smiled warmly. “It looks like I came earlier than planned, Alex.”


    That’s my uncle, alright. Politely-speaking, I had forgotten about him but I wasn’t surprised to see him. When Thea had activated the SOS, it was communicated to two people: myself and Uncle Ali. Because he didn’t receive an update from either of us—especially when Thea’s phone went kaput—he must’ve taken the first flight here.


    I’m glad he cared enough about his niece and nephew. His presence meant the world.


    I asked, “Guess Thea managed to contact you?”


    Uncle Ali glanced at Rector. “Actually, I found Angels first and introduced myself to the Third Pillar.”


    Rector cleared his throat and turned away. “That’s one way of putting it, but that’s a story for another time. Now, everyone, find somewhere comfortable to stand or sit because we have a long conversation before us.”


    The room was divided between the Shens and the Slayers. Althea and Uncle Ali sat by my side, while Empress, Rector, and Sophos were on the opposite side of the room. Looking at the numbers now, this situation was fucking absurd. Two Guild Masters and the heiress of the Demonic Cult were addressing us, all because a random alien-monster-thing had targeted our asses.


    On our side, we had an eighteen-year-old dork who was pinching herself to stay awake, an United States Marine who had probably smuggled an arsenal through the airport, and a dumbass who got himself hospitalized.


    Talk about a title matchup.


    The Guild Masters whispered and argued about something. I couldn’t hear, but I figured it was about the details. Eventually, Rector rolled his eyes and threw his hands up and stepped forward. “I’ll start the explanation,” he said. “I wanted to save this conversation when Shen—excuse me, Alexander—wakes up. I apologize for bombarding you so after your beauty sleep, but your family’s very curious.” (“Impatient, more like,” muttered Sophos.) “Shut up.”


    Uncle Ali chuckled, not offended whatsoever. “Start at the beginning for us, Rector.”


    “Yessir. Two months ago, we commissioned Sophos with a special experiment; by ‘we,’ I mean myself, Seraph, and Kosmos. We wanted to transmit a message across the multiverse, hopefully communicating with other Slayer Worldlines. After all, going off of basic multiversal theory, we aren’t the only Worldlines with the Slayer System. Instead—”


    “Instead, it went catastrophically wrong,” Sophos dramatically said, hand over head.


    Rector hissed, “You couldn’t last more than one minute without interrupting me—” (“You were being too slow, Zakaria.”) “—moving on, yes, the experiment went horrifically wrong. Instead of communicating with other Worldlines, we attracted a different kind of attention instead. The attention of this…”


    He was stuck on his words, visibly trying to figure out how to explain it.


    Sophos finished his thought, “An existentially-dubious entity.”


    Althea commented, “The Alternate?”


    But the little genius shook her head. “Not exactly. We summoned the Mother of the Alternates, their creator. She greeted us by siccing her child onto my facility. Thank goodness Rector brought his team of orphans, otherwise the First Alternate would’ve done serious damage. Unfortunately, though, Mother escaped and has been on-the-loose since.”


    “Question.” Uncle Ali raised his hand. “A cosmological experiment like this, I imagine, needs to go through a year’s worth of bureaucracy and procedures. I’m assuming you went through all the necessary hoops?”


    All three Slayers uncomfortably shifted around.


    Uncle whistled, and my sister groaned and banged her head against the bed.


    “Motherfucker…” I facepalmed. “Look, I’m no fan of the Union but this is why we have the Research Security Organization. At this point, I’m not even angry. A castle isn’t a castle if you don’t routinely ignore rules and regulations.”


    Uncle Ali put a hand on my shoulder. “Trust me, Alex, this is by far the least unethical experiment I’ve seen.” (“What sort of experiments have you seen?” Empress asked.) “But continue.”


    Sophos nudged Rector.


    He sighed. “For the past two months, we’ve been chasing after Mom. We found three additional Alts, but they went poof before we could perform any substantial research. A month ago, Sophos single-handedly located and subjugated the Fifth Alt. Before its ‘death’ so-to-speak, it mentioned a name. Your name.”


    A month ago… That was during the drama with System Articles. The timeline matched. I said, “That’s why you were observing me. To see if I had any connections with the Alts or their Mother.”


    Rector hummed in the affirmative. “After you caught Empress, we decided to leave you be. For the record, we didn’t think it was a fluke; however, we lacked necessary intel to develop the lead further. So we continued to observe, and observe, and observe, until May passed without incident. We thought Mother faded away on her own, until last night where she returned with a vengeance.”


    Empress stepped in this time: “One of my other team members, Problem, found the Sixth Alt, and guess what it said? ‘Shens.’ It fled, which led to the whole fiasco, yadda yadda yadda. You know the rest of the story, but this isn’t a fluke anymore. It’s not even a bad coincidence. The Mother has targeted and probably will continue to target you and your family.”


    Althea muttered under her breath, “Of course…”


    Fuck… This was why Angels Guild got involved in my life. A monster they summoned was targeting me for no obvious reason. I should be upset about their mad experiment, but what were the fucking odds? In their perspective, Mommy Alt picked a random civilian and his family who happened to be weirdos! You can’t predict something like that. It was a freak “accident.” Knowing “accidents,” the Mother had its reasons but last time I checked, the Shens weren’t enemies with the multiverse itself.


    Uncle Ali massaged his chin. “What are they? The Alts?”


    It was Sophos’s time to shine. She stood confidently before us and exclaimed, “I have no idea!”


    I’m either going to kill myself or this shitty Guild Master.


    Sophos saw the sheer disgust and disappointment in our eyes and immediately folded: “Hey, don’t look at me like that! I mean it. We gathered little data on the Alternates, and they leave no physical trace to analyze. All we have is theory and speculation. What we do know is this: the Alternates and their Mother are cosmic entities. They fundamentally do not obey our natural understanding of the Planet. You saw it for yourself. The Sixth Alt was a living, breathing glitch in this simulation we call ‘reality.’ Though, I liken it as more of a ‘bug’ than a ‘glitch,’ and the Planet is the ‘administrator’ trying to snuff it. This conflict unfortunately leads to collateral damage and we’re the janitors cleaning up the mess.”


    Althea, who looked too tired to have a cosmology lecture, said, “So what was the Sixth Alt? I mean, it clearly was something.”


    Sophos answered, “Every Alt thus far is modeled off of something, yes. What that ‘something’ is, again, we don’t know. Perhaps they’re creatures of darling Mother’s imagination, or they’re manifestations inspired from both the Mother and Ordo itself, or a thousand other possibilities. As I said, we lack the necessary data to confirm or deny anything.”


    “But it said my name,” I butted in. “That’s proof it’s inspired by something tangible in the real-world. In some shape or form, the Mother is affected by our reality. It has an ego.”


    Hearing my comment, she had a slight, impressed smile. “So you are paying attention, good. Yes, you’re correct, which makes this even more baffling and honestly thrilling. A cosmic entity possessing real-world traits. No wonder why it’s struggling to exist. Its very existence is paradoxical, which leads us to the elephant in the room.”


    Yeah, the single question that had been on our minds since the shitshow began…


    “Why us?”


    “Why you?”


    Sophos laughed and pushed her glasses up. “Exactly. As much as I hate repeating myself, again I’m…” She gulped, and the pride in her eyes flickered. “I-I’m not quite sure—”


    “What do you know?” Uncle Ali pounced hearing the tiniest fracture in her voice. “Do not hide anything from us, Sophos.”


    Rector scratched his bottom-lip while Empress looked between the Guild Masters, confusion written across her face. She wasn’t in the know.


    Uncle reiterated, “I won’t repeat myself again. You know why the Alts targeted my kids, or at the least, you developed a theory. Share it.”


    The Guild Masters had a conversation through eyes, arguing about who was going to answer the most important question. Sophos lost the battle in the end. Like a child, she stomped to a panel next to the door—oh, I see why. I hadn’t realized until now, but we were speaking inside an isolation bubble.


    That apparently wasn’t enough, as Sophos snapped her fingers and created another bubble, having two layers of defenses.


    She stood at the foot of my bed and said, “I’m aware of your SSS-Rank [Skill], Alexander Shen.”


    “You have a what?!”


    “How the hell?!”


    “You…”


    Hearing those words… It was like Sophos had paralyzed me. Fear exploded inside my stomach and it turned into horrible, muscle-burning aches. The room spun around and around. My chest tightened, then tightened again. Electricity fired through my nerves. My back was tearing itself open. An invisible hand squeezed my lungs and forced every molecule of oxygen through my burning throat. I couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt.


    When… Where… How…


    That was impossible… It should be impossible… You can’t just peek into someone’s [Profile] like that…


    My head was splitting open.


    My arms refuse to move. I try breathing, gasping for air, but it’s like I’m swallowing water.


    I can’t…


    I…


    The last thing I hear is someone screaming my name.