Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday.

Well, technically, it's my second time being sixteen. But in this world, it's my first.

And tomorrow? It's crucial.

Not because I'll be celebrating with friends or cutting into some picture-perfect cake, but because of the Talent Awakening—a compulsory rite that determines your worth in this world.

The day you officially matter.

My schoolwork flickered across the tablet screen, its interface sleek and unnervingly precise. Each tap filled in the blanks for me, predictive algorithms practically begging me to stop thinking altogether.

This world's technology was efficient, sure, but there was something… hollow about it.

No challenge. No creativity.

Just a perfectly curated life running on the rails GAIA laid out for us. The cracks in this system were subtle, but once you saw them, they were impossible to ignore.

A familiar blue hologram shimmered to life in the corner of my vision, the GAIA Talent Bureau reminder flashing in bold letters.

"REMINDER: Talent Awakening. Report tomorrow at 0900 hours."

I swiped it away without a second thought, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. This was the seventh reminder since yesterday.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered to no one. "I get it, Big Brother GAIA. Miss it, and I'm toast."

Failure to show up wasn't just discouraged. It was suicide. The stories of those who skipped awakening day were like urban legends told in hushed whispers.

GAIA's enforcers wouldn't just fine you or throw you in some cell. They'd "reset" you—a nice way of saying you'd lose your mind.

Literally.

Whatever tech they used to do it? I didn't want to find out.

Six months in this world had taught me one thing, there was no wiggle room in a system this big, this perfect. You either played your part, or you disappeared.

I missed my days as a hacker— those times now feel like distant memories. Yet, I can't help but recall the day I died.

I still remember coming home that night, finding my apartment trashed. My computers smashed. My files—everything I'd built—gone.

I was devastated.

Then, just when I thought things couldn't get worse, an assassin put a bullet in my chest. Clean shot. No warning.

Then, bam.

I woke up here, in this new world, as Noah Adler. Sixteen years old. Pink-haired, lanky, and living in a world where a superintelligent AI runs the show. It's a far cry from being the most wanted hacker in my world.

But hey, I've always been good at adapting.

And let me tell you, this new world isn't any better.

I wish I could say that I woke up in a utopia or that the people here are warm and friendly.

But no. This world is 'systematic'.

Controlled by this all-powerful AI god named GAIA. It manages everything: the economy, careers, health, society. And every person has a unique ability assigned to them once they reach the age of sixteen, which they call talent.

It's like a giant, dystopian lottery, except the odds are stacked in favor of the AI system. You get your class, your rank, and your future in the blink of an eye.

And it's all decided by GAIA.

*********

I was startled out of my thoughts by a knock at the door.

"Noah, time for dinner!" Brixley's voice called, muffled but cheerful.

I sat up, reluctantly leaving the safety of my room.

The dining table wasn't grand, but it was ours. Sturdy and worn, much like Damian, my older brother. He was already seated, his military-grade boots kicked off to the side after a long day as a low-ranked awakener in a small-time guild.

Across from him, Brixley practically bounced in her seat, her middle-school enthusiasm as bright as ever.

My gaze fell to the center of the table. A lopsided cake with candles jammed in at odd angles. It wasn't much, but it was more than I'd ever had in my past life.

"Surprise!" Brixley grinned. "Happy early birthday! Since Damian can't be here tomorrow…"

Damian smirked, lighting the candles with a cheap, flickering spark device. "It's not much, but it's tradition. Even if you don't get anything impressive tomorrow, we'll still celebrate."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I said dryly, but their effort tugged at something in my chest.

For the first time in years—hell, in two lifetimes—I wasn't alone.

I hadn't realized how much pressure I had been feeling about tomorrow until I saw the genuine hope in their eyes.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" Damian asked as he began to chow down on his dinner.

"Kind of," I replied, sitting down next to him. "But I'm also curious. I mean, what talent will I awaken?"

Brixley tilted her head, her wide eyes fixed on me as she asked, "So, what kind of talent do you hope to get, Noah?"

I paused, thinking for a moment.

"Hmm… something useful, I guess. Anything that can help us get by, make things a little easier around here," I replied, my voice surprisingly sincere.

I hadn't really thought about it like that before, but now that she had asked, it felt like the only answer that made sense.

Damian gave me a reassuring smile. "It's okay if you don't get something amazing. I'll still support us all."

I nodded, grateful for his words. While life here wasn't perfect, having a family to care about was a new and welcome change.

In my old life, I was a solitary hacker—alone and unimportant. Now, I have people around me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I am starting to care about them too.

Dinner was a quiet affair. We made small talk, mostly about the coming awakening tomorrow, but nothing too deep. I was trying to push the strange feelings about this world down deep into my gut, where they wouldn't bother me.

I had enough to worry about.

I finished eating and retreated to my room. As soon as I lay down, the day's exhaustion washed over me, making it impossible to keep my eyes open. Before I knew it, sleep claimed me almost instantly, pulling me into a deep slumber.

********

It was late now—almost midnight. The sudden appearance of my HUD in front of me startled me awake, a holographic interface that always seemed to know when to pop up.

"Happy Birthday, Noah Adler." The familiar voice of the system echoed in my ears.

I groaned, half-asleep. "Thanks, I guess," I muttered, rubbing my eyes.

A flood of notifications appeared. Birthday wishes from people I barely knew. It was part of the world's automated birthday greetings. No one actually cared about my birthday. It was all system-generated, a mandatory message sent to everyone on their birthday.

Then, one message caught my eye. It was from an unknown ID.

"Codebreaker?" I mused aloud.

I opened the message, curious.

The moment I did, sharp, blinding pain shot through my brain. My head felt like it was being electrocuted. I gasped, clutching my temples, and for a split second, my HUD glitched, flickering erratically before shutting down entirely.

"What the hell?" I groaned, staggering back.

Then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, my HUD rebooted, and the glowing blue interface reappeared in front of me.

[System reboot complete.]

[Installing Codebreaker...]

I blinked, utterly dumbfounded.

"Is that supposed to happen once you turn sixteen?" I thought aloud. But I had no idea what was going on. I didn't know the first thing about this world's awakening process. Was that supposed to happen? Should I have asked Damian about it?

I sighed, brushing off the weird incident.

"Whatever," I muttered. "I'll deal with it later."