Orochi GenSys Corporation

  "We empower you to seize control of your destiny. Our revolutionary gene-editing technology allows you to sculpt your child’s future, enhance their abilities, and become the architect of their success."

  Neo-Tokyo sprawled beneath a thick blanket of smog, a city both vibrant and decayed. Neon signs blazed in every direction, advertising dreams that most could never afford. Skyscrapers stood like jagged teeth against the sky, their glittering facades hiding the rot within. Below, the streets told a different story—grime, desperation, and a constant struggle for survival. In the shadow of corporate towers, humanity’s forgotten fought for scraps.

  Nestled in one of these shadows stood an orphanage—a relic of a better time, now a crumbling monument to neglect. Its cracked walls and sagging roof bore the scars of years of neglect, a visual reminder of the city's disinterest in those who couldn’t afford to matter. Once, it might have been a place of warmth, but now it was a holding pen for forgotten children.

  The roof leaked, the walls were discolored with mildew, and the furniture inside was worn to the point of splinters. Inside, the stale air carried the muffled sounds of laughter mixed with cries of hunger and frustration. This was a place where innocence went to die.

  It was here that Kael lived. Or survived.

  Kael, only eight years old, wasn’t like the other children. On the surface, he was just another orphan—a frail boy with messy black hair. His body was small, malnourished, but his eyes betrayed something far older—a sharpness, a calculation that didn’t belong to a child.

  He sat alone on a splintered bench in the corner of the orphanage’s common room. His classmates played loudly around him, oblivious to the weight of the world. Kael didn’t join in. He didn’t fit with them. Couldn’t.

  He wasn’t just a child.

  Kael carried memories of another life. Another world.

  He had once been a warrior, a strategist, a leader. His past life was a haze of battles fought with sword and spell, of camaraderie forged in fire. But those days were gone. He didn’t know how he had ended up here, in this strange, mechanical world, trapped in the fragile body of a child, but he had long since stopped asking.

  The first few days had been disorienting. He’d stumbled through the orphanage in a daze, unable to reconcile the memories of his past life with the fragility of his new existence. What he did know was that this world was no less dangerous than the one he had left behind.

  What mattered now was survival.

  Kael quickly realized that being a child—especially an orphan—meant being powerless. Adults dismissed him, speaking in tones dripping with condescension. Other children viewed him as competition for the orphanage’s limited resources.

  He hated it.

  They think I’m weak, Kael thought, his hands clenched into fists. They have no idea.

  Kael’s musings were interrupted by a sharp shove. He stumbled forward, nearly falling off the bench.

  “Out of my way, runt.”

  Riku stood over him, grinning. At twelve years old, Riku was the undisputed king of the orphanage. Tall, broad-shouldered, and mean-spirited, he ruled through fear. He took what he wanted—food, toys, even the meager possessions the other children managed to scavenge.

  Kael had become his favorite target.

  Kael looked up at Riku, his expression carefully blank. He had learned early on that fighting back only made things worse.

  “What’s the matter?” Riku sneered, leaning closer. “Too scared to say anything?”

  Kael didn’t respond. His silence only seemed to amuse Riku, who laughed and reached into Kael’s pocket, pulling out the small roll of bread he had been saving for dinner.

  “Oh, you’re just going to sit there? Fine by me,” Riku said, taking a large bite out of the bread. “Tastes better when it’s stolen.”

  The other children laughed nervously, their eyes darting between Kael and Riku. No one would step in. They never did.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Kael watched him walk away, his knuckles white from gripping the edge of the bench. He felt the familiar sting of humiliation, but beneath it was something colder. Sharper.

  This wasn’t the first time Riku had stolen from him, and it wouldn’t be the last. Kael had tried ignoring him, avoiding him, but nothing worked. Riku saw Kael’s silence as weakness, and he exploited it mercilessly.

  But tonight, things would change.

  The idea had come to Kael weeks ago, during one of his long, sleepless nights. He needed to neutralize Riku. Not out of revenge, but out of necessity. The older boy’s presence was a threat—a drain on Kael’s already meager resources. Eliminating him would shift the balance of power, giving Kael the breathing room he needed to focus on larger goals.

  He had spent weeks planning. The orphanage’s storage closet, dimly lit and packed with cleaning supplies, would be his stage. He had watched the staff enough to know which chemicals were stored there—and what happened when certain combinations were mixed.

  He had watched. He had learned.

  Kael didn’t need brute strength to deal with Riku. He had something far more valuable: intelligence.

  By the end of the week, the plan was complete.

  That night, the air was heavy with the promise of rain. The children were sent to bed early, the humid air making the dormitory stifling and restless. Kael lay awake in his cot, staring at the cracked ceiling until the room fell quiet. The other children were asleep, their breaths soft and even in the humid air. Kael’s mind raced, going over every detail of his plan.

  Kael turned his head, glancing at the small window near the ceiling. The moon was hidden behind smog, its light barely filtering through. Outside, the city buzzed with life, but inside, everything was still. He slipped out of his cot, moving silently toward Riku.

  It was time.

  “Riku,” he whispered, shaking the older boy awake. “Wake up.”

  “What do you want, runt?” Riku growled, his voice thick with sleep.

  “I saw something in the storage room,” Kael said, his voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. “Something valuable. I was going to keep it for myself, but… I figured you’d want it.”

  Riku opened one eye, suspicious. “What is it?”

  Kael shrugged, looking away as if reluctant. “I don’t know. It looked important. Maybe a staff member left it there by mistake but…” He trailed off, letting Riku fill in the blanks.

  The older boy sat up, his interest piqued. “Show me.”

  Kael nodded and led the way, his heart pounding in his chest.

  The storage room was small and cramped, its shelves lined with bottles of cleaning supplies. A single bulb flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows across the walls. Kael stepped inside, motioning for Riku to follow.

  “Where is it?” Riku demanded, his impatience palpable.

  Kael gestured to the shelves, his hands trembling. “It’s back there,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  As Riku moved deeper into the storage room, Kael made his move. He grabbed two bottles, one of bleach and another of ammonia, his small hands working quickly to pour their contents into a plastic bucket. The reaction was immediate—the air filled with a thick, choking vapor that burned his eyes and throat.

  “What’s that smell?” Riku demanded, turning around too late.

  Kael didn’t answer. He grabbed the door and slammed it shut, wedging a wooden block under it to keep it closed.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Riku shouted, pounding on the door. “Let me out!”

  Kael leaned against the door, his heart pounding. The fumes were seeping through the cracks, burning his eyes and throat even from the outside.

  “It’s just a game,” Kael said softly, his voice steady. “You always liked games, didn’t you?”

  Inside, Riku’s shouts turned to coughing. The chemical reaction filled the small space with toxic fumes, burning lungs and eyes. Kael pressed his weight against the door, ignoring the muffled banging and choking sounds.

  In his mind’s eye, the holographic interface flickered to life.

  [Mission: Eliminate Target - Riku]

  [Objective: Neutralize Riku without detection.]

  [Reward: +100 XP, New Class Unlocked.]

  Kael’s lips twitched into a smile. He had waited weeks for the system to respond, to acknowledge his progress. Now, it was finally happening.

  Inside the storage room, Riku’s pounding grew weaker. The chemical fumes were doing their job, sapping his strength. Kael waited, counting the seconds, until the noise stopped altogether.

  When he was sure it was safe, Kael opened the door. Riku lay crumpled on the floor, his chest rising and falling shallowly. He wasn’t dead—Kael had been careful to calculate the reaction’s potency—but he wouldn’t be causing trouble anytime soon.

  Good. Kael didn’t need Riku dead. Not yet.

  Kael stepped over the older boy’s body, careful not to disturb the scene. He tipped over the bucket, letting the remaining chemicals spill across the floor. The staff would assume it was an accident— a careless spill, a foolish boy who had breathed in the wrong fumes.

  [Mission Complete: +100 XP Earned.]

  [New Class Available: Hacker | Assassin | Crafter]

  Kael’s heart raced as he read the words. He didn’t hesitate.

  [Class Selected: Assassin]

  A wave of energy surged through him, cold and exhilarating. He could feel it—the sharpening of his senses, the heightened awareness of his surroundings. This was what he had been waiting for.

  Kael slipped back into the dormitory, unnoticed, and climbed into bed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. Outside, the rain finally began to fall, the sound of raindrops mingling with the muffled chaos of the staff discovering Riku’s “accident.”

  Outside, Neo-Tokyo buzzed with life, oblivious to the storm brewing within its shadows.

  Kael closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips.

  This was only the beginning.