An hour later, Atlas finally left my quarters—only after thoroughly inspecting every corner.
Within minutes, he was testing every feature in my room—switching the smart glass windows between transparent and opaque, messing with the climate control settings, and even reclining on my bed like it was a five-star hotel suite.
"Bro," he said, sinking into the plush mattress, "I swear, this is better than the luxury pods in the city. You have everything in here."
He even tested the holo-sim suite, played around with the room's controls, and practically drooled over the elite base's dining perks.
"Man," he said, pacing my kitchen, "you get all this and gourmet meals delivered to your room? You're living the dream."
He wasn't exaggerating.
Trainees at the Elite Base had two main dining options: ordering through the E.B. interface or visiting high-end restaurants scattered across the compound.
For in-room dining, meals arrived through the Food Delivery Locker (FDL)—a sleek device embedded in the wall that materialized dishes fresh and piping hot using instantaneous delivery tech.
I smirked, walking over to the Food Delivery Locker (FDL) embedded in the wall. The interface pulsed, waiting for an order.
"Check this out," I said, selecting a simple meal.
A soft beep sounded, and the FDL slid open, revealing a perfectly plated steak and vegetable platter, still steaming.
Atlas leaned against the counter, wide-eyed. "Okay, that's it. If I had this, I'd never leave my room."
I chuckled, placing the dish on the table. "It's great, but it's also a privilege. This isn't handed out for free."
He smirked. "Spoken like someone gunning for the top. Me? I'd just focus on what to order first—maybe gourmet sushi or a ten-layer cake."
We both laughed, the kind of easy camaraderie that felt rare in a place this intense.
Eventually, Atlas stretched with a satisfied sigh. "Alright, I should head back before I start camping out here. But seriously, Noah, this is next-level. You've got it all."
As the door slid shut behind him, silence settled over the room.
I glanced around—the holo-sim suite, the sleek furnishings, the FDL.
Luxury? Sure.
But this wasn't just about comfort.
It was a reminder.
Prove you belong—or lose it all.
And I had no intention of losing.
*********
I sat on the edge of my bed, fingers tracing the invisible number tattooed beneath my skin. It wasn't ink. It wasn't just a mark. It was a barcode—a leash—burned into my very DNA the moment I registered as a GAIA Enforcer rookie at the Talent Academy.
And I hadn't even known about it. Not until Orientation Day that day.
Orientation day 3 days ago
The training ground was buzzed with energy. The air was thick with the excitement of newly inducted rookies of GE—fresh blood ready to serve, to make a name for themselves.
Some were grinning, some exhausted, but all of us sat straighter when the instructor walked onto the stage.
"Rookies! Congratulations on your barely satisfactory achievement," he said, his grating voice echoing through the chamber. "You've all officially passed the GAIA Enforcer Academy Orientation Program. Starting today, you are one of us. The bottom of the food chain, no less."
There was no applause from the rookies. Only a few jeering cheers from the seniors. I stayed silent.
He let the noise settle before continuing, eyes sweeping the room with the practiced ease of someone used to command.
"From this point on, you will uphold the laws of GAIA. You will protect our system, our planet, our cities, and our people." A brief pause. Then, with a small, almost casual smile, he added, "And as a security measure, each of you will now receive your identification tattoo."
The room shifted.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A few exchanged glances, some confused, others indifferent.
I stiffened. Tattoo?
A girl standing beside me—blonde, sharp-eyed—raised a hand. "Sir, what kind of tattoo?"
"A tracking tattoo," the instructor replied smoothly. "Your unique identification number will be encoded into your DNA. This ensures safety, coordination, and prevents any misuse of power. Additionally, as a precaution, if you ever find yourself in danger, GAIA will have the means to locate and rescue you."
There it was. The bombshell.
I barely heard the rest. The instructor was still talking, answering questions about how the tattoo was 'harmless,' how it was 'standard protocol,' how it ensured 'seamless communication between GEs and command.'
But all I could hear was chains clicking shut.
I turned to the guy on my other side, a red-haired recruit—some hotshot who had been boasting about his performance earlier. "Did you know about this?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
He shrugged. "Not really, but it makes sense. We're part of an organization now."
"Yeah," I muttered, leaning back. "An organization that doesn't trust us."
The thought burned in my mind for the rest of the ceremony. I barely reacted when they called us up, barely acknowledged the moment the scanner hummed over my skin, embedding something invisible beneath the surface.
But I felt it.
I felt it the second it became a part of me.
And now, sitting here in my room, my jaw clenched as I stared at my forearm.
At first, I thought it was just another formality, another bureaucratic stamp to confirm I existed in the system. But then I learned the truth. Every GE was tagged.
My stomach twisted.
It wasn't just an identifier. It was a confession—GAIA didn't trust us. It wasn't enough to recruit us, train us, shape us into obedient watchdogs. No, GAIA had to own us.
My fists clenched. The walls of my room felt smaller, suffocating.
Monitored. Tracked.
Every move I made, every step I took—logged, analyzed, stored in some hidden archive, waiting for the moment it could be used against me.
My jaw tightened. No. Screw that.
I wasn't some hero fighting for justice. I didn't care about morality or the so-called greater good. I just hated being controlled.
I hated it more than anything.
I had spent my last life surrounded by chains. Governments, corporations, the elite—all of them—thought they could own people, reduce them to nothing more than data points in a system.
Not me. Not ever.
I pressed my palm over my forearm. I could almost feel it pulsing beneath my skin, a silent parasite feeding off my freedom.
I had earned the EX sub-skill as a reward for completing a mission during my Initiation Day battle, surviving the attack from Cason.
It was worth it.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
Time to cut the leash.
I activated my skill.
[Activating EX Sub-Skill: Nanotech Rebirth]
A pulse of golden energy rippled beneath my skin, microfilaments of light spreading like molten metal through my veins. The nanites inside me awakened, responding to my will, surging toward the corrupted mark that dared to claim me.
[Foreign System Detected: GAIA-Integrated Surveillance]
[Initiating Molecular Override…]
A sharp, twisting pressure coiled through my arm. The tattoo fought back. The digital chains tightened, the encryption flaring like a cornered animal.
[WARNING: Unauthorized Alteration Detected]
[System Lock Attempt: FAILURE]
A grin tugged at my lips. Not fast enough, huh?
The nanites dug deeper, breaking apart the encoded chains piece by piece. The tracker tried to reassemble, its script scrambling to fight back.
But Codebreaker was already three steps ahead, unraveling the surveillance code and twisting it into something new.
Not erased. Rewritten.
GAIA thought it was monitoring me?
I'd decide what it saw.
GAIA thought it could track me?
I'd be everywhere and nowhere at once.
A final pulse. The glow faded. My body hummed with quiet victory.
[System Update Complete]
[Tracking Tattoo Status: Modified]
[User: Noah Adler—Full Control Acquired]
I ran my fingers over my arm. The tattoo was still there, untouched on the surface. To anyone else, nothing had changed.
But beneath my skin?
The leash was mine now. Mine to control. Mine to manipulate.
GAIA wouldn't know when I disappeared. It wouldn't know when I changed locations.
Because from now on…
I was the one watching.
I pulled up Codebreaker, and my gaze darkened as the system's interface unfolded before me.
My tracker was displayed in real-time—a blinking dot on a digital map, showing my precise location. My vitals, neural activity, metabolic rate—every aspect of my existence was laid bare under GAIA's scrutiny.
But that wasn't the worst part.
I felt a chill crawl up my spine as I scrolled deeper. GAIA wasn't just tracking my movements or my health. It was recording everything. Even my memories.
A sharp breath left my lips, my fists clenching so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.
We're like dispensable tools—once broken, easily discarded.
It wasn't enough that GAIA monitored our every step—it wanted control over who we were. Even the most sacred parts of our existence, our thoughts, our pasts… nothing was off-limits.
Fortunately, Codebreaker had done its job. It had intercepted the system before my memories could be copied and transferred into the GAIA database. A small victory. But the fact that it even tried…
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
Why?
Why is GAIA doing this?
What is it hiding?
My mind flickered back to my fight with Arvoc in the tower—the way the intruder spoke as if he knew something deeper.
"It's all part of GAIA's plan."
What plan?
To conquer other planetary towers? That had been my first assumption. But then… why push awakeners to conquer the towers on this planet too? Shouldn't GAIA already control them?
Or…
Was the GAIA Tower not under GAIA's rule at all?