The almost silent hum of jet engines vibrated through the fuselage as the jet cruised at 30,000 feet above sea level. Nephil—a college student majoring in intelligence and robotics—sat in his window seat, hunched over his laptop, finishing up minor details on his renders and display models.

 The faint glow from the screen illumin,m bated his focused expression, his fingers flying across the keyboard in a rush. Nephil and his other classmates had been invited to the World Technological Submit [NTS] on Technological Innovation, a prestigious event for agents of big brands, pioneers of major New Age startups, college students from across the globe, and children prodigies of big families. 

This year, it was held at the renowned Qa'id Tower—a brutalist marvel of innovative engineering and one of many testaments to humanity's latest advancements in technology. For Nephil, attending this event was a dream come true—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to showcase his research on automatons and conceptual ideas for the upcoming network upgrades—the 11G network, towers, and design innovations.

The project was something he had been working on from scratch with several drafts, papers, tests, and other trash littering his rooms for years since he got the invite 8 years prior—as this was a customary octennial event—an event that occurs every 8 years.

He had designed a model and system to revolutionize AI and gaming and further innovations in space development in response to the recent deployment of drones capable of coordinating in real-time with network speeds of faster-than-sonic movement, and though he wasn't sure it was groundbreaking to compare, Nephil believed it could leave a mark in history. 

Subtle footsteps could be heard moving behind the cabin as a middle-aged man walked to the front of the bulkhead. The man was his professor. A 36-year-old man dressed in a three-piece navy blue suit stood at the bulkhead, planning to briefly elaborate to his students right before they reached the tower pads. 

He stood hunched with his hair slightly messed up; his eyes were bagged with dark circles underneath, forming from the stress COMPILED from those previous three weeks combined.

He began to speak with his deep voice making his words echo in his mind: "You've got talent, Nephil, but you need to take risks to make an impact." He sighed, leaning back against the seat.

Risks? Easier said than done.

The plane's intercom cracked to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We've entered a slight turbulence zone. Please fasten your seatbelts."

Nephil barely looked up. Around him, passengers adjusted their seatbelts or settled into their seats. The cabin buzzed with muted conversations, the occasional laugh cutting through the quiet. Nephil returned to his laptop, tweaking the final slides of his presentation. He was so absorbed that he almost missed the faint shudder that ran through the plane.

Then, it hit.

A thunderous explosion rocked the aircraft. The cabin lights flickered and dimmed as the plane jolted violently to the side. Gasps and screams erupted as oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. Nephil's laptop flew out of his hands, clattering to the floor. Heart racing, he fumbled for the mask above his head, securing it with trembling hands.

The intercom buzzed again, but the captain's voice was barely audible over the chaos. "Brace for—"

The plane plummeted. Nephil's stomach lurched as gravity seemed to vanish. Outside the window, flames engulfed one of the wings, and the world tilted into a dizzying spiral. Passengers cried out, clutching at armrests and each other. Nephil's mind raced with fragmented thoughts: his family, his unfinished project, the future he'd never see.

The last thing he remembered was the deafening roar of the engines as the ground rushed up to meet them.

Nephil awoke to a nightmare. The acrid smell of burning fuel filled his lungs, and his head throbbed with pain. Groaning, he opened his eyes to a scene of utter devastation. He was still strapped into his seat, but it now lay amidst a sprawling field of wreckage. Shards of metal jutted from the ground like jagged teeth, and flames licked at the twisted remains of the plane.

How am I still alive?

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Nephil stumbled to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. Around him, bodies lay scattered—some motionless, others stirring weakly. He forced himself to look away, nausea rising in his throat.

A faint voice broke through the haze. "Help..."

Nephil turned to see a woman pinned beneath a piece of fuselage. Her face was pale, her breaths shallow. Without thinking, he rushed to her side.

"Hold on," he said, gripping the edge of the metal. "I'll get you out."

He strained against the wreckage, his muscles burning with effort, but it wouldn't budge. The woman's eyes filled with tears. "Please..."

Before Nephil could respond, a deep, guttural roar echoed across the wreckage. He froze. It wasn't the sound of an engine or an explosion. It was something alive.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his eyes scanning the horizon.

In the distance, a massive shadow loomed, moving with unnatural speed through the haze of smoke. As it drew closer, Nephil's breath caught in his throat. The creature was monstrous, its body covered in shimmering, metallic scales. Its glowing eyes radiated malice, and its maw bristled with jagged teeth.

"Run," the woman gasped, her voice trembling with terror. "You have to run."

Nephil hesitated, torn between fear and the instinct to help. The beast let out another roar, the force of it shaking the ground. It turned its gaze toward him, and in that moment, Nephil knew he was its target.

The creature lunged, its claws slicing through the air. Nephil dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding the attack. Scrambling to his feet, he ran, adrenaline propelling him forward. The beast roared again, its heavy footsteps thundering behind him.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care. All that mattered was survival. Spotting a jagged outcrop of rocks in the distance, he sprinted toward it, his lungs burning with exertion. He dove behind the rocks, pressing himself against the cool stone.

The beast's footsteps grew louder. Nephil held his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. Peering through a crack in the rocks, he saw the creature sniffing the air, its glowing eyes scanning the area. For a moment, it seemed to lose interest, turning away. But then it stopped, its head snapping back toward the rocks.

Nephil's blood ran cold. The beast's growl deepened, and it began to claw at the stones, each strike sending vibrations through his hiding spot. He clenched his fists, his mind racing. What should I do?

Before the beast could reach him, a blinding light enveloped Nephil. He felt a strange pull as if his body was being torn apart and reassembled. The heat and noise of the wreckage vanished, replaced by an eerie stillness.

Nephil opened his eyes to an alien world. Towering trees with bioluminescent leaves stretched toward a twilight sky, their roots twisting like veins through the forest floor. Strange, ethereal creatures flitted through the air, their forms glowing faintly. The air was thick with the scent of earth and something sweet, almost intoxicating.

Where am I?

Staggering forward, Nephil tried to make sense of his surroundings. A rustling sound caught his attention, and he turned to see a figure emerging from the shadows. It was humanoid but distinctly otherworldly, with deep blue skin and glowing eyes. The figure's cloak shimmered like liquid metal, and its presence exuded an aura of authority.

"Welcome," the figure said, its voice smooth and melodic. "You've crossed into the Resonance."

Nephil started, his mind reeling. "The Resonance? What are you talking about? Where am I?"

The figure's lips curved into a faint smile. "Your old world is gone. You've been chosen."

"Chosen?" Nephil repeated, his voice rising with panic. "Chosen for what?"

The figure's glowing eyes seemed to pierce through him. "To hunt."

Before Nephil could respond, the ground beneath him shifted. The forest blurred, and he felt himself falling into darkness. He screamed, the sound swallowed by the void.

When Nephil awoke again, he was lying on the forest floor. The distant sound of roaring beasts echoed through the trees, and shadows flitted between the trunks. He sat up, his heart pounding. This wasn't a dream.

Beside him, something glinted in the dirt. It was a blade, its surface etched with glowing symbols. Nephil picked it up, the weight of it feeling both foreign and familiar in his hand.

A low growl broke the silence. Turning, he saw a pair of glowing eyes staring at him from the shadows. A creature stepped into the light—a wolf-like beast with scales instead of fur and fangs that glistened like obsidian.

Nephil's grip tightened on the blade. The wolf snarled, its muscles coiling as it prepared to pounce. Nephil raised the weapon, his hands trembling.

The wolf lunged. Nephil swung the blade, the symbols flaring with light as it connected. The clash of metal and scales rang out, and Nephil felt a surge of energy course through him. The wolf staggered back, growling in pain.

For the first time, Nephil realized he wasn't powerless. This world was dangerous, but it had rules. And if he wanted to survive, he'd have to learn them fast.