By the thirtieth century, humans had developed to the point where people with superpowers, who are called exemplars with unique talents, or "IL," existed and have only grown; now a staggering percent of the population are exemplars, and every young child aspires to be them, whether they were heroes or exemplar doctors or lawyers they saw on television and in movies. Tson, though, believed that dream was somewhat, under his current circumstances, unattainable to himself. His hypercognition IL was not a showy or combat-capable power. Even though he had a quicker mind than others, he questioned whether it would ever be sufficient to turn him into a real hero capable of running, fighting, and saving lives.
Today marked the beginning of his final days as a high school senior and the soon-to-be beginning of his university days. It was the day when the future, once distant, would be laid bare in front of him. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and started walking towards school; the gate looming ahead of the building was a sleek, ultra-modern complex of glass and steel with displays all over them. When entering, there is biometric scanning of everyone's face, making sure whoever is going in is supposed to be there. It was the same thing for the automated class, with doing far more. It would open the light in a classroom if it sensed someone was in that room.
"TSON!" A familiar voice called out. Turning, Tson saw his best friend, Kevin, jogging toward him. Kevin didn't have an IL power—an "il-less," as people called them. Despite that, he was the best martial artist Tson knew; if it were for the fact that he didn't have an IL making him Ilness, he would for sure be the best martial artist alive.
"Hey, Kev. tson put on a smile on his face You ready for the big talk today?" Tson asked, trying to hide his nerves about his own circumstances.
Kevin shrugged, his expression somber. "Nah, I'm skipping it. I'm going to hang out in the dojo, he said, and he quickly picked it back up. I love it in there. You know how it is—no IL, no future."
Tson frowned.
If Kevin had been born in any other era, he'd have been a martial arts legend. But in this world, without an IL power, his friend would always be sidelined. "You could still come. You never know…"
"Kevin laughs at Tson. Really, I see you haven't quit a bit, but Nah, I'll catch up later," Kevin said, managing to put on a weak smile before heading off.
The school bell rang, pulling Tson from his thoughts. He hurried inside, knowing he was late. He could feel his techears disapproving eyes locked onto him as he entered the classroom.
"You're late, Tson," the teacher said coldly. "Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence. God knows we've rarely seen the genius in class; no doubt he has more important things than this class, he said in a mocking tone."
Tson muttered an apology and slipped into his seat just as a group of pro-heroes entered the room. They stood tall at the front, their gleaming uniforms a reminder of the kind of future many students dreamed of.
One of the heroes stepped forward. "We're here today to recruit some of the best students directly into our agencies. If you qualify, you can skip university and go straight into hero work. But let me be clear—only the top one percent will make the cut."
Tson listened, intrigued but doubtful about whether his abilities were enough. He wasn't one of the one percent. His combat scores were far from impressive; some might say terrible, even though he knew agencies only cared about those.
After the recruitment speech, representatives from various fields—lawyers, doctors, and other professionals—gave their pitches. As Tson half-listened, a woman from the Exemplar Doctors Academy waved at him from across the room, trying to get his attention. He sighed. They all wanted him for his brains, not his potential as a hero.
When the presentations finally ended, Tson slipped out of the classroom, uninterested in their offers. He knew where he needed to be—back home, working on his real future.
Tson's home was nothing short of a technological fortress. A sprawling mansion perched on the hill was adorned with advanced technology, cobblestone paths, and wings filled with labs, libraries, and more. As soon as he entered, the weight of the day lifted slightly.
Before heading to his lab, Tson stopped at a particular room—his brother's recovery chamber. Inside, his brother lay unconscious, monitors attached to his still form. His left arm and right leg were missing, and his breaths were shallow.
Tson clenched his fists, remembering the mission that had nearly killed him. His brother had been a spy, declared dead to the world, but here he was, fighting for life. All for six small objects—arc reactors—that his brother had stolen from a mad scientist hellbent on eradicating exemplars. Now, those identical reactors were hidden in Tson's lab and were crucial to his ultimate plan.
Tson entered his lab, a massive room filled with machines and screens. The arc reactors, secured in a vault, awaited him. They had cost his brother his limbs, his career, and nearly his life. But Tson would make them worth it.
On a screen, multiple projects were displayed: Project Prime, Nexon, Rampage—and Sentinel. Project Sentinel was his current obsession—a prototype robot that could change everything.
"Merci, activate Sentinel," Tson commanded. The AI obeyed, and a towering robot emerged from the shadows. It was sleek and black, with a glowing "S" emblazoned on its chest. Sentinel was designed to follow the movements of the greatest minds, accessing data from both public sources and hacked databases.
The problem was power. Tson needed the arc reactors to bring Sentinel to life.
He approached the vault, took one of the six reactors, and inserted it into Sentinel's chest. The moment it clicked into place, a surge of energy pulsed through the lab, lighting up the other reactors. Tson barely had time to react before everything went dark. His vision blurred, and the last thing he saw was Sentinel coming to life.
Then he blacked out.