The sky was clear—no storm clouds, no sign of trouble. The plane soared smoothly above the endless ocean, and the passengers were spread across their seats: some asleep, others gazing at the horizon or scrolling through screens unaware of what was coming.
Bernad sat by the window, eyes tracing the gentle ripple of waves below. Nothing seemed strange… until the lights went out.
In a single instant, darkness swallowed the cabin. Systems shut down. Alarms shrieked. Passengers screamed. The plane lurched violently in mid-air. There was no time to think. Everything collapsed—sound, light, and reason.
Then... silence.
When Bernad opened his eyes, he was lying on a shore, soaked and bruised. His clothes were torn, and his arm was bleeding. He pushed himself up, gasping for breath. Behind him lay the sea, endless and indifferent. In front of him—an unknown jungle, towering and still.
There were others—just five. Scattered like fragments of a forgotten wreck. One stirred, dazed. Another screamed a name that would never be answered.
No trace of the plane.
"Where is the aircraft? We were inside it… weren't we?" someone asked, trembling.
Bernad nodded. No answers. Just an overwhelming sense that what had happened wasn't a normal crash.
The forest ahead looked… wrong. The trees were unnaturally tall. The clouds too close. The light in the sky wasn't sunlight but a suspended glow, with no source. And the air—thick, metallic, humming with invisible power.
A tall man, Rayan, with sharp eyes and calm command, stepped forward and said, "We can't just stay here. We either move… or die."
They took their first steps into the jungle—and reality changed.
The ground glowed beneath their feet. The air thickened. And then… a being appeared. Not animal. Not man. Its form was translucent, its eyes unblinking. It raised a hand, and a glowing screen appeared in the air.
"Welcome to Reality #99: The Island of Exile."
"From this moment on, you are part of the system."
"There is no exit."
"All who entered… stayed."
One of the five whispered, "Is this a nightmare?"
But the screen continued:
"Activating supernatural abilities… Registered: Bernad – Rank: F."
Bernad's image appeared in the air, a red warning beneath it:
"Ability Inactive – Synchronization Rate: 0.1%."
Bernad murmured, "I have… a power?"
The system replied:
"Everyone has one. And it awakens… through death."
Without warning, one of the survivors collapsed—no scream, no struggle. His name was Max. He hadn't spoken since the crash… and now, he would never speak again.
Silence.
Fear tightened their lungs.
"This place… isn't natural," Rayan whispered.
But Bernad wasn't listening anymore. His eyes rose to the sky—or what he thought was the sky. There was no open air, only a vast dome, faintly glowing, like they were trapped in a prison too big to see.
And deep inside… something stirred.
The real incident—the one that would change everything—was still coming.
Suddenly, a voice boomed:
"The conflict begins now."
The earth rumbled. Towering metallic structures rose in the distance. Strange ships flew overhead. Unfamiliar figures moved through the jungle's edge.
This wasn't just an island.
It was another world. A parallel reality governed by forces unknown.
And Bernad… though ma
rked with the weakest rank, felt it inside him—
Something was waking up.