Level Up: Assassin.

Timmy's eyes flew open. The comforting darkness was gone, replaced by a blinding white light. He groaned, raising a hand to shield his eyes. His head pounded, the pain a dull roar behind his eyes.

"What the hell happened? Why am I sleeping on the floor?" Questions flooded his mind.

But then, with a jolt of pain, the memories of the previous night came rushing back: the dizziness, the glowing obsidian pendant, and the shimmering blue screen.

Timmy sat up and looked down at his chest, expecting to see the pendant. To his horror, it was gone. In its place, on the ground, was a black powdery substance, as if the pendant had been ground down.

"Damn it, it was all real," Timmy muttered to himself. The shimmering screen, the glowing pendant – it hadn't been a dream or a hallucination.

Timmy sat there, trying to process everything. He didn't know whether to be relieved that the pendant was gone or worried that it had finally activated after all these years.

For as long as he could remember, Timmy had been an orphan. The memories of his early childhood were lost in a fog. All he could recall was waking up as a four-year-old, alone and scared, in a wasteland on the outskirts of the city. That was where his life truly began.

After being found, he was taken to an orphanage, where he spent the next eight years of his life. But even in his earliest memories at the orphanage, the obsidian pendant was hanging around his neck.

Timmy had always believed that the pendant held the key to unlocking the mystery of his past. But years had passed, and he was no closer to understanding its significance or its connection to him.

Apart from its unusual appearance, there was nothing particularly remarkable about the pendant. Timmy had tried researching it, but his searches yielded no results. Eventually, he had given up hope.

But now, the pendant had finally reacted, and Timmy was filled with a mix of hope and trepidation.

On the one hand, he dared to hope again that he might discover the truth about his past. But on the other hand, he had no idea what had happened, how any of it was connected to his past, or what the destruction of the obsidian pendant meant.

With a sigh, Timmy got to his feet and checked the time. It was around nine in the morning.

He headed to the bathroom for a cold shower, hoping the icy water would clear his head and calm his swirling emotions.

After a quick shower, Timmy stood in front of the mirror, wiping himself dry.

His silver eyes seemed distant, lost in thought.

Suddenly, the shimmering blue screen reappeared in front of him.

-----

[UPDATE PROGRESS: 100%]

[SYSTEM BOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE]

[HOST ANALYSIS: 100%]

WARNING: CRITICAL DAMAGE DETECTED.

> BLOODLINE STREAM: SEVERELY DAMAGED.

> PHYSICAL TRAUMA: MULTIPLE AREAS.

INITIATING EMERGENCY REPAIR PROTOCOL.

HOST SEDATION REQUIRED.

[COMMENCING COUNTDOWN: 10... 9... 8...]

-----

Timmy froze, staring at the screen in disbelief.

It wasn't until the countdown reached five that he snapped out of his daze.

Remembering the previous night spent sleeping on the hard floor, Timmy was determined not to let that happen again, especially not on the cold, wet bathroom floor.

He made a dash for his bedroom and threw himself onto the bed. As if on cue, the countdown ended just as his head hit the pillow.

A wave of dizziness washed over Timmy, and he drifted back into sleep.

-----

Meanwhile, in another part of the city...

The low hum of traffic rose from the city below, a stark contrast to the tense silence that had settled within a luxurious condo. Expensive artwork adorned the walls, emphasizing the lavish surroundings.

A young man with a proud, almost regal air tapped his foot impatiently against the polished marble floor. Each tap seemed to echo off the bowed figure kneeling before him.

"Harry, look at me when I'm talking to you," the boy standing over him snapped, his voice sharp enough to slice through the heavy silence.

Harry, kneeling on the floor, didn't move. But his shoulders trembled slightly, betraying his attempt to appear calm.

From the plush velvet sofa, a third boy watched the scene unfold with a look of detached amusement. Every movement he made oozed a sense of effortless confidence. He idly twirled a silver ring on his finger, the only sign of his interest was a slight furrow in his brow. His eyes flicked between the two boys casually.

The standing boy and the one on the sofa were, of course, Kaleb and Wan He. If Timmy had been there, he would have recognized the kneeling boy as one of their classmates.

"I said look at me when I'm talking to you!" Wan He barked, his voice laced with venom. This time, Harry flinched and looked up.

"Now, give me one reason why I shouldn't punish you for your incompetence," Wan He demanded.

"I... I... I'm sorry, I did my best, b..." Harry stammered, but Wan He cut him off.

"That wasn't what I asked. I said, tell me why I shouldn't punish you for your incompetence," he repeated, his voice cold.

"Because I'll fix it, I promise. This was my mistake, and I promise to correct it," Harry pleaded.

Wan He didn't reply immediately. Instead, he stared at Harry, his expression unreadable.

Harry froze under his gaze, fear gripping him as he tried to guess what the other boy was thinking.

"Good answer. You know what you need to do to fix your mistake," Wan He said finally, dismissing Harry with a wave of his hand.

Harry scrambled to his feet and practically ran from the condo. The air in there felt too thick to breathe.

"Stupid! Useless!" Wan He fumed as Harry left, kicking the nearest couch in anger.

"Hey man, calm down," Kaleb said to his friend.

"Calm down? You don't understand what his incompetence has caused! He's polluting the high-class world with trash, that's what he's done!" Wan He shouted, kicking the couch again, hard enough to make it slide across the floor.

"What do you care? What's your problem with this Timmy kid? He hasn't done anything to you, so why do you hate him so much?" Kaleb asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"Because I despise people like him," Wan He spat.

"I despise the fact that people like him can stand on the same ground as me just because they have bloodline abilities. A nobody, a piece of trash, standing shoulder to shoulder with someone from a rich and distinguished family."

Wan He's eyes turned red with anger.

"Don't you see? The high society, the world of the wealthy and influential, people like us... it's being ruined by adding trash like him just because they developed some ability!"

"I don't see the problem," Kaleb shrugged. "There's enough wealth, enough girls, enough influence to go around. It's not an issue."

"Pfft, what do you know?" Wan He said, finally slumping onto the couch he had been abusing.

"This is so frustrating!" he exclaimed.

"I think you're getting worked up over nothing," Kaleb said with a shrug. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you do; you can't stop it. Look around! The world's a mess, with Abyssal Seeds popping up everywhere. The government needs more ability users, not less. They don't care about any of this. Just relax and enjoy your life."

"I know, but it's still frustrating," Wan He muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Like I said, there's not much you can do. And as for this Timmy kid... well, let's just say I don't think you'd have any trouble getting rid of him if you really wanted to. So relax. I came here to have fun, not listen to you whine about your problems and insecurities."

Kaleb leaned back on the couch, leaving Wan He to stew in his own thoughts, contemplating Kaleb's words.