The world outside Rael Arden's apartment was alive with sirens again.
Somewhere in the distance, another Gate had opened—another ripple of energy tearing into reality, spilling monsters onto city streets. Hunters rushed toward it like moths to a flame, craving gold, glory, or survival.
Rael didn't move from his chair.
He sat in the dark, eyes locked on the glowing screen of his monitor. The room around him was a prison of shadows—curtains sealed, air stale, floor scattered with instant noodle cups and dust-covered books. His gaunt frame slouched, bones visible beneath his oversized hoodie. The world had forgotten him, and he'd returned the favor.
> "Gate breach in Sector 9. Estimated rank: A. Civilians advised to evacuate,"
a synthetic voice echoed from his phone's emergency broadcast.
He muted it.
What did it matter? The world could burn, and no one would knock on his door. They hadn't for years—not since the accident that ruined his legs, not since his parents died in a Gate incident, not since the inheritance ran out and pity faded.
He was invisible.
"Happy birthday to me," he muttered dryly, glancing at the date on his monitor: April 9th.
Eighteen. Technically an adult. Not that it changed anything. Not that anyone cared.
Then the screen flickered.
He blinked. No power outage. No glitch. But the monitor dimmed—and then, impossibly, displayed a new window.
---
> [SYSTEM REBOOTING…]
[Initializing Phantom-Class Interface…]
[Welcome Back, User: Rael Arden.]
[Soul Authority: Recognized.]
[Main Class: ??? (LOCKED)]
[Unique Skill: Soul Fracture – Status: SEALED]
[Memory Restoration: 12%... 37%... 66%...]
---
Rael's breath caught.
What… was this?
Pain exploded in his skull, sudden and searing. He collapsed from his chair, clutching his head as images flooded in—visions of battles, blood, fire, betrayal. A tower piercing the heavens. Voices he hadn't heard in lifetimes. Screams. Laughter. The sensation of a sword piercing his chest.
And a name.
The Phantom.
"I… remember," he gasped, eyes wide.
The memories returned like a tidal wave.
The Tower. The Spire. The climb.
The betrayal on the 99th floor.
His team—Aeris. Daemon. Kriel. The ones who smiled, who laughed with him, who stabbed him in the back for power they didn't understand.
And now… he was back.
Reincarnated.
Alive.
Crippled, yes. Broken, perhaps. But the System hadn't forgotten him. The Spire still whispered his name.
---
> [Skill: Soul Fracture – UNSEALED.]
[Cloning Capacity: 1/9 Activated.]
[New Mission: Reclaim the Tower. Reforge the Throne. Rewrite Fate.]
---
Rael sat motionless on the floor, heart pounding.
The shadows in his room no longer felt suffocating—they felt charged, waiting.
> [Would you like to manifest your first clone?]
[Y/N]
He didn't hesitate.
Yes.
The air shimmered in front of him. It twisted, cracked—like reality itself was folding—and from the distortion stepped a figure identical to him.
Taller. Stronger. Back straight, eyes emotionless.
Perfect.
Rael stared, breath caught in his throat.
It looked like him, but it wasn't him—not the broken shell he'd become.
This was the man he used to be.
The clone knelt smoothly, its voice flat and mechanical.
"Orders, Master?"
Rael swallowed.
He felt everything at once: awe, fear, power, rage. A flicker of that old fire sparked in his chest.
"Enter the nearest Gate," he whispered. "Clear it. Alone."
The clone nodded once and vanished—no sound, no flash, just absence. A ripple in the air where it had stood.
Sector 9.
An A-rank Gate.
Outside, sirens wailed louder.
Inside, Rael smiled for the first time in years.
The Phantom had returned.
And the world didn't even know it was already too late.