——The Mark That Shouldn't Exist
BOOM—
A thunderous explosion shattered the night.
Shawn's head jerked up, heart hammering against his ribs.
The sound had weight—an unnatural force that seemed to vibrate through his bones.
His pen slipped from his fingers, clattering against the desk.
Outside, the darkness fractured.
A streak of fire tore across the sky, carving through the clouds like a blade of molten light.
It wasn't a meteor.
It wasn't a shooting star.
The arc was too sharp, too deliberate.
The air around it crackled, bending and warping as if space itself had been ripped apart.
And at its core—
A perfect circle, cleaved by a jagged, V-shaped fissure.
Shawn's breath caught.
His chest tightened, as if the oxygen had thickened into something unbreathable.
His mind scrambled for logic, for reason, but the image burned behind his eyelids, imprinting itself into his consciousness.
This wasn't random. It wasn't coincidence.
It was a message.
His grip tightened on the edge of the desk, knuckles blanching. He blinked, hard, but the afterimage refused to fade.
Click.
His fingers found the keyboard, opening a news site almost on autopilot. The headlines were already plastered across the screen.
Breaking News: Blinding Light Over the City—Experts Baffled.
Is This the End? Conspiracy Theorists Claim It's a Sign.
Aliens? Military Experiment? People Demand Answers!
Shawn scrolled, his pulse thrumming.
> "I saw it! That wasn't a meteor—it looked like a portal opening!"
"Electromagnetic interference in my area. Cell towers flickered."
"This symbol… I've seen it before."
A cold prickle ran down his spine.
Then his phone buzzed against the wood, rattling his nerves back into the moment.
Don.
Shawn exhaled sharply, pressing the phone to his ear. "You saw it, right?"
Don's voice crackled through the line, clipped and urgent. "Shawn, listen to me. That wasn't normal."
Shawn glanced at the sky. The symbol still burned in his mind, though the fiery streak was beginning to fade.
"Don, what the hell is going on?"
A pause. Then—
"The energy levels weren't natural." Don's voice was lower now, edged with something Shawn didn't like. "Because this isn't just science anymore."
A beat of silence.
"This is something else. Something big."
Shawn swallowed. "You mean the symbol?"
"The shape of the Rift."
Another pause.
And then, almost a whisper—
"They knew."
A chill curled through Shawn's veins. "Who?"
"AGI-ST."
The name settled like lead in his stomach.
AGI-ST—
The elite program that had taken the world by storm, handpicking the brightest minds, molding them into the next generation of scientists, strategists… soldiers.
AGI-ST wasn't just a prestigious academic track.
It was the pipeline.
The golden ticket.
Ivy League universities watched its candidates like hawks.
Fortune 500 companies fought to recruit its graduates.
Governments had a vested interest in its research.
Weeks of pressure, debates, and second-guessing.
Most people would kill for a chance to join.
Shawn had been invited.
He should have been thrilled.
But he wasn't.
Not because of the power AGI-ST wielded. Not because of the influence.
Because of two things.
The All-Seeing Eye.
The Spectre Axe Mark.
Officially, these were AGI-ST's core training pillars.
Unofficially?
Control.
The All-Seeing Eye—a cognitive enhancement system designed to optimize perception, memory, and intuition.
A revolutionary breakthrough.
But intelligence wasn't just about speed or efficiency.
It was about free will.
And if they could enhance thought patterns—
They could manipulate them.
Then there was the Spectre Axe Mark.
Neuroscientific reflex enhancement. Combat training. Tactical survival programming.
It wasn't just about learning.
It was about obedience.
No one questioned it. No one dared to.
But Shawn trusted his instincts.
And every fiber of his being was screaming that something was wrong.
He exhaled shakily. "Don… is this why you've been pushing me to apply for AGI-ST?"
Silence.
Then, finally—
"Yes."
Shawn leaned back, running a hand over his face. His skin felt clammy. His thoughts tangled, looping into a chaotic knot of unease.
The light in the sky. The Rift. The symbol.
And now, AGI-ST.
He forced himself to speak. "You're telling me they predicted this?"
Another pause.
"Or they caused it."
The words settled in his chest like ice.
Shawn inhaled sharply. "And we're just supposed to trust them? To believe they have our best interests at heart?"
Don didn't answer. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Finally, Don exhaled, a sharp sound tinged with frustration. "Not everything is a conspiracy, Shawn."
Shawn clenched his jaw. But before he could reply, Don's voice softened—just barely.
"What if you're meant to be part of this?"
Something twisted in Shawn's gut. A mix of fear. Curiosity.
And something deeper.
His gaze dropped to the desk.
To an old, yellowed piece of paper—its edges frayed, brittle with time.
He hadn't touched it in days.
But now, it called to him.
Slowly, he unfolded it.
And his breath caught.
The symbol. The exact same symbol.
It had been in front of him all along.
A low hum began to stir within the walls.
Not from the speakers. Not from any device.
It resonated deeper than sound—like a memory stirring from sleep, vibrating through marrow and thought.
Shawn stared at the parchment, fingers trembling.
It's not coincidence.
It never was.
And in that moment, as the wind pressed against the windows like a whispered warning, Shawn understood one thing with terrifying clarity:
The world had already changed.
He just hadn't caught up to it yet.