The underground market lived up to its name.
Viktor descended three levels below Sector 2's commercial district, passing through security checkpoints that grew increasingly informal as he went deeper. The first checkpoint was staffed by association guards who scanned IDs and asked questions. The second was managed by a local guild who just wanted to see your hunter license. The third was a single bored-looking woman who nodded him through without a word.
By the time he reached the market proper, the authorities had given up entirely.
The space was enormousâa converted subway station that had been abandoned after the Second Emergence and reclaimed by entrepreneurs who didn't want to pay taxes or follow regulations. Stalls lined the platforms, selling everything from skill enhancement drugs to forbidden grimoires to weapons that definitely weren't legal in civilian hands.
Viktor walked through the chaos with his senses extended, [Existence Weave] letting him feel the flow of life energy around him. Thousands of awakeners browsed, bargained, and occasionally fought. Guild enforcers patrolled in small groups, maintaining just enough order to keep the place functional. Somewhere in the distance, someone was screamingâwhether from pleasure or pain, Viktor couldn't tell.
Stall 777 was in the deepest section of the market, past rows of increasingly suspicious vendors. The number was painted in faded gold on a canvas awning that shielded a collection of furniture that looked older than the awakening itself. A desk, a chair, shelves filled with paper files and crystallized memory cores.
And behind the desk, the most unremarkable man Viktor had ever seen.
The Collector was average in every measurable way. Average height, average build, average face. Brown hair, brown eyes, features that would slide out of memory the moment you looked away. He wore simple clothesâa gray jacket over a white shirtâand his skill signature read as D-Rank at best.
"Viktor Ashford," the Collector said without looking up from the papers he was reviewing. "Helena's new project. I was wondering when you'd show up."
Viktor stopped at the edge of the stall's territory. "You know who I am?"
"I know who everyone is. It's my job." The Collector finally raised his eyes, and Viktor felt a chill. Those brown eyes held depths that the rest of his appearance concealedâintelligence, calculation, and something that might have been hunger. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."
Viktor sat in the chair across from the desk. It was surprisingly comfortable.
"Helena sent me," he said. "She said you specialize in information about the association."
"I specialize in information, period. The association, the guilds, the independents, the foreign governmentsâanyone who has secrets they want kept has secrets I've uncovered." The Collector smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. "The question is, what information do you need?"
"I'm looking for someone. A fusion awakener who was active during the Second Emergence. They called him 'The First.'"
The Collector's smile faded. For a long moment, he simply stared at Viktor with those too-deep eyes.
"That," he said finally, "is dangerous information."
"I'm willing to pay."
"It's not about payment, Mr. Ashford. It's about consequences. The First is not a topic the association takes lightly. People who ask questions about The First tend to disappear. People who find answers..." He spread his hands. "Well. There aren't any people who've found answers, as far as I know."
Viktor leaned forward. "My mother was killed during the Second Emergence. In Sector 12. Her skill was stolen before she diedâtaken directly from her, not acquired after death. I believe The First was responsible."
The Collector's expression shifted. Something that might have been sympathy flickered across his unremarkable features. "Maria Ashford. D-Rank barrier specialist. I have her file, actually. Would you like to see it?"
Viktor's heart clenched. "You have information about my mother?"
"I have information about everyone who's ever been of interest to anyone with power." The Collector reached into his desk and pulled out a folderâactual paper, yellowed with age. "Maria Ashford. Awakened at sixteen with [Barrier Create], a defensive skill that let her generate protective walls of solidified energy. Married Robert Ashford, a non-awakened civilian, at twenty-two. Had one sonâyouâat twenty-four. Worked as a defensive specialist for the association's emergency response division."
Viktor took the folder with trembling hands. Inside were photographs, reports, psychological evaluations. His mother's entire life, condensed into bureaucratic documentation.
"The Second Emergence," the Collector continued. "Your mother was part of the evacuation team for Sector 12 when the dungeon surge occurred. She successfully protected two thousand civilians during the initial wave. Then, according to official records, she died in combat against a B-Rank monster."
"But that's not what really happened."
"No." The Collector pulled out a second folder. "This is the classified report. The one the association doesn't want anyone to see."
Viktor opened it. The first page made his blood run cold.
**INCIDENT REPORT: SECTOR 12 SKILL EXTRACTION**
**CLASSIFICATION: ULTRA BLACK**
**SUMMARY: During the Second Emergence evacuation, multiple awakeners reported witnessing an unknown entity extracting skills from living hosts. Entity was described as humanoid, wearing dark clothing, with an aura that caused physical weakness in nearby awakeners. Entity was observed absorbing skills from at least seven victims before disappearing into the dungeon surge.**
**VICTIMS INCLUDED:**
**- MARIA ASHFORD, D-RANK**
**- THOMAS CHEN, C-RANK**
**- YUKI TANAKA, B-RANK**
**- [REDACTED]**
**- [REDACTED]**
**- [REDACTED]**
**- [REDACTED]**
Viktor's hands shook. "This entity. Was it The First?"
"Unknown. The association's official position is that The First has been contained since the First Emergence, locked away in a facility somewhere. But..." The Collector paused. "There have been rumors. Whispers of a figure who appears during dungeon surges and catastrophes, taking skills from the chaos. Some call him the Harvester. Others call him the Ghost. A few claim he's The First, escaped from containment."
"Where is he now?"
"If I knew that, I'd be dead. The entityâwhatever it isâhas evaded every attempt to track it for fifteen years. It appears, it takes what it wants, and it vanishes. No pattern. No predictability. No way to find it unless it wants to be found."
Viktor stared at the report. Seven victims. His mother had been one of seven awakeners whose skills had been stolen in a single incident. A harvest.
"What about Project Awakening?" he asked. "Helena said the project was responsible for creating the awakened. Is there a connection to The First?"
The Collector's expression became carefully neutral. "Now we're entering truly dangerous territory, Mr. Ashford."
"I'm already in dangerous territory. I might as well go all the way."
For a long moment, the Collector studied him. Then he reached into his desk and pulled out a third folderâthis one bound in red leather with a seal that Viktor didn't recognize.
"Project Awakening was shut down after the First Emergence," the Collector said. "The official story is that it was a failureâthe portal device exploded, killing most of the research team, and the fragments scattered randomly across humanity. But the official story is a lie."
"What really happened?"
"The portal didn't explode. It was sabotaged." The Collector opened the red folder, revealing photographs and documents stamped with classification markers. "Someone on the research team deliberately destabilized the connection during the second activation. The entity began to pass through, and that person used a specially designed skillâ[Skill Severance]âto shatter it before it could fully manifest."
Viktor's mind raced. "[Skill Severance]? I've never heard of that."
"You wouldn't have. It was created specifically for Project Awakening, given to a single researcher as a last-resort measure in case the entity proved hostile." The Collector pointed to a photograph. "Dr. Marcus Webb. Lead security officer for the project. The first awakener ever documentedâhis skill manifested months before anyone else's, as part of the preparation for opening the portal."
Viktor studied the photograph. Marcus Webb looked militaryâhard features, close-cropped hair, the kind of stance that suggested years of combat training. But there was something familiar about his face...
"Webb was supposed to use [Skill Severance] to protect the team," the Collector continued. "Instead, he used it to shatter the entity. The fragments scattered, bonding with humanity, creating the awakened. Webb claimed it was necessaryâthat the entity would have destroyed everyone if it had fully manifested."
"What happened to him?"
"That's where it gets interesting. Officially, Webb died in the incident along with most of the research team. But his body was never recovered. And there have been reports over the yearsâsightings of a man matching his description, always near major skill-related events." The Collector's eyes glittered. "Some believe Webb became something else after shattering the entity. That absorbing the backlash of [Skill Severance] gave him a new ability. One that lets him take skills from others."
Viktor felt the pieces clicking together. "You're saying The First might be Marcus Webb."
"I'm saying it's possible. The timeline fits. The abilities fit. And Webb would have had motivationâhe spent years preparing to face a god-like entity. If he survived, he might have decided that collecting fragments was the only way to prevent anyone else from becoming what he stopped."
"Prevent... or become it himself."
"Perhaps both." The Collector closed the red folder. "This is all I have, Mr. Ashford. Speculation and shadows. If you want real answers, you'll have to find them yourself."
Viktor stood, his mind churning with new information. Marcus Webb. Project Awakening. A man with the power to steal skills, active since the First Emergence, potentially the one who'd killed his mother.
"How much do I owe you?"
The Collector smiled that unpleasant smile again. "Consider this a professional courtesy. Helena was a good client before the association drove her underground. Any friend of hers is entitled to one free consultation." He leaned back in his chair. "But Mr. Ashford? Be careful. You're walking a path that's destroyed everyone who's traveled it before you. The FirstâWebbâwhatever you want to call himâhe's been collecting skills for thirty years. Even if you find him, you might not survive the encounter."
Viktor met the Collector's eyes. "I'm stronger than I look."
"I know. Helena told me." The Collector's expression became calculating. "SSS-Rank, if the readings are accurate. A level that shouldn't exist. But power isn't everything. Webb has experience, resources, and three decades of absorbed abilities. You have raw potential." He paused. "Which of those advantages do you think matters more in a real fight?"
Viktor didn't have an answer. He took the folders, tucked them into his jacket, and walked out of Stall 777.
Behind him, the Collector watched with those too-deep eyes, already calculating how this new player would change the game.
**[INFORMATION ACQUIRED]**
**[TARGET IDENTIFIED: MARCUS WEBB / "THE FIRST"]**
**[LAST KNOWN STATUS: OFFICIALLY DECEASED]**
**[SUSPECTED ACTIVITY: SKILL HARVESTING]**
**[THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN]**
**[NEXT OBJECTIVE: INVESTIGATE PROJECT AWAKENING SURVIVORS]**
Viktor emerged from the underground market into the cooling evening air. The folders sat heavy against his chest.
Marcus Webb. A name. A face. A history stretching back thirty years.
He kept walking, already thinking about where to start.
