Esper?

Troy heard muffled voices as he stirred from unconsciousness. His body ached, pain pulsing through his limbs like a dull throb. But the first thing he did, before anything else, was try to move his legs.

He could feel them.

He let out a quiet breath of relief. Phew. It wasn't a dream.

"He's waking up," a voice murmured in the background.

His vision was blurry as he forced his eyes open, adjusting to the sterile brightness above him. A medical facility. No… a highly advanced medical facility. The sleek white walls, the soft humming of machines, the futuristic monitors displaying his vitals—it was far beyond any hospital he had ever been in.

Eight people surrounded his bed.

Four wore medical outfits—probably doctors, judging by their focused expressions. But the other four? They looked… odd. Not quite like soldiers, not quite like government agents. Their outfits were too flashy, too distinct. Almost like—

"Cosplayers?" he muttered under his breath.

"You're finally up," one of the doctors said, his face covered by a surgical mask. "Do you feel any abnormal pain?"

Troy exhaled, rubbing his temple. "You mean other than my legs? Not really, Doc."

"Hello, Troy."

A familiar voice.

He turned his head to see a girl around his age. Long blonde hair tied in a neat ponytail, red eyes burning with intensity. She was wearing a brown coat over a black t-shirt—drab compared to the others. But there was something… off about her outfit.

Troy's gaze drifted downward.

A side bad?.

A peculiar bag.

Stuffed entirely with candy.

Troy squinted.

Then, realization struck.

"Ohh… Miss Flat-Assailant! It's you! I almost didn't recognize you."

The girl's composed expression cracked as embarrassment flashed across her face.

"My name is Celia." She forced a smile, trying to maintain her calm facade. "Celia Devereux. We brought you here to ask some questions. And I'd appreciate it if you called me by my name, future Mr. Troy."

"You mean after almost killing a poor soul like me with a plate?"

"I wasn't trying to hurt you. Just testing." Celia crossed her arms.

"You do understand that I couldn't have run even if I wanted to, right?" Troy deadpanned, gesturing toward his legs.

"That was…" Celia opened her mouth to respond, but a voice interrupted.

"Hello, Mr. Troy. We haven't met, have we?"

A man stepped forward with a wide grin.

"I am Noel. Noel Thirst. The director of this establishment." He gestured around the room.

Troy raised an eyebrow. "Hello, Mr. Noel. I'd stand up and shake your hand, but, unfortunately, I cannot."

Noel let out a short laugh. "Talkative! I like it."

Troy observed the man carefully. Tall, dressed in a black suit—something straight out of Men in Black. His black hair was neatly combed back, clean-shaven, but a thin scar ran from his cheek down to his neck.

A dangerous man.

Even with his polished appearance, there was something… off about him. Like a wolf playing nice among sheep.

And then Troy spotted the katana on his back.

His eyes lit up. "Oh, sweet. Do I get one of those katanas now?" He pointed at the weapon.

Noel chuckled, reaching back and unsheathing it—except, there was no blade.

Just a hilt.

"Katana? Oh, no, Mr. Troy." He twirled the hilt in his fingers. "This is just for show."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, see, that somehow makes it more ominous."

Noel's grin widened. "Does it?"

"Your forced grin is so creepy, dude. Seriously. It's like you're trying to sell me an MLM scam."

Celia stiffened. "You can't speak to the director like tha—"

"It's fine, Celia." Noel cut her off, still grinning. "I like honest people. At least he doesn't put up facades."

"What color serum were you injected with?"

A new voice.

Troy turned his head to see a man floating forward—literally.

Thin, almost unnervingly so, with shaggy brown hair and a perpetually bored expression. He hovered above the ground effortlessly, as if walking was beneath him.

Troy's brain took a moment to process the scene. Then, his lips curled into a smirk.

"Hey, twins!" He pointed between himself and the floating man. One can't use his legs, the other won't use them.

The man sighed. "Answer the question. I don't have all day."

Troy leaned back, rubbing his chin. "The serum, huh? You know, I'd answer that… but I was a little too busy dying to take notes on the color."

The floating man exhaled, clearly unimpressed. "You're a smartass. Great."

Celia pinched the bridge of her nose. "Troy, this is lux patel, head of the science division. He's an esper and one of the top researchers here."

"Luxxy, huh?" Troy nodded. "Neat. I just gotta ask… how does it feel floating everywhere? You ever sit down like a normal person?"

Lucien blinked. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he sat in midair—legs crossed, arms resting on his knees, as if he were lounging on an invisible chair.

"Better?" he asked dryly.

Troy whistled. "Oh, yeah. Much better. Now you just look like some anime mentor about to drop life-changing wisdom on me."

Lucien rolled his eyes. "I regret coming here."

Celia cleared her throat. "Troy, listen. This isn't a joke. You were injected with an experimental serum. A very unstable one. We need to know exactly what was used on you before—"

"Before what?" Troy interjected, tilting his head.

A brief silence.

Then, Noel stepped forward. His grin, for the first time, dimmed slightly.

"Before you die possibly ."

"Woah, woah, woah." Troy raised a hand in a stopping motion. "Die? ? I didn't sign up for death, yet i am still a younggin springing with youth ."

Lux, still floating midair with a lazy expression, adjusted his white coat. "The serum was administered to at least ten thousand people worldwide," he began. "It was an experimental formula meant to mimic the esper physique."

Troy frowned. "So… ten thousand people with superpowers, then?"

"Eleven percent."

Noel spoke this time, his grin growing disturbingly wide. "Eleven percent is the rounded-off survival rate. The rest?" He tilted his head. "Dead."

Troy's breath hitched. "...Dead?"

"And that's just based on the numbers we have." Noel continued, his tone almost too casual. "Most of the survivors we found aren't exactly in good shape. Some are dealing with severe disabilities." His gaze flickered downward—toward Troy's legs.

Troy swallowed. "What are you trying to say, exactly?"

Noel took a step forward, his presence looming. "Those people who died… all of them had the same injection as you."

A chilling silence filled the room.

Troy felt his heart pound in his chest. He wasn't just some unlucky bastard who got dragged into a weird facility—he was part of a global experiment. An experiment where nearly nine out of ten people died.

And now, he was one of the "lucky" few.

"Let me explain from the start." Lux's voice cut through the tense air, his floating posture as lazy as ever. "You look overwhelmed, funny boy."

Troy didn't respond. Overwhelmed was an understatement.

Lux adjusted his coat, his crimson gaze flickering with an odd amusement. "We are espers. And you, right now, are in the Third Division of an organization called Bastion—an official entity overseeing natural-born espers."

"Wait, espers? That's what I am now?" Troy asked, still trying to wrap his head around everything. "Powers? Am I psychic?"

Lux smirked. "Did you notice something when I said 'natural-born esper'?"

Troy blinked, glancing at Celia, who crossed her arms.

"Celia here is a natural-born esper. You, on the other hand, are not. We don't fully understand the extent of the prototype serum or if it even managed to replicate the specialized organ that makes an esper… well, an esper."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "Specialized organ?"

"We call it the 'Solidified Soul'." Lux's tone turned serious. "Every human has a soul, but for most, their soul remains in a gaseous, unformed state—intangible, unable to manifest. Espers, however, are born with a soul that has already solidified into something stable and functional, like a third limb."

Lux lazily motioned with his hand. The glass of water near him floated into his palm.

"Espers manipulate an invisible energy using this solid soul. For example, I may appear to be floating, but in reality, I'm pushing space itself in different directions to keep myself midair." He gestured to the floating glass. "The strength and control vary from person to person, but this is the basic foundation of what a natural esper is."

His expression darkened.

"You, however, are different."

Troy's stomach twisted. "Different how?"

"Your soul was forcefully solidified by the serum's unknown components. But here's the problem—a normal human's body isn't meant to handle that change. The moment the soul forcibly hardens, it disrupts the body's natural equilibrium. The brain, which regulates energy output, starts overcompensating, flooding the body with more power than it can handle. The result? Cardiac arrest. Death. That's why ninety percent of the subjects died."

Troy felt a chill run down his spine.

"So I was just… lucky?"

"You survived, yes. But that doesn't mean you're safe." Lux folded his arms. "The real question is: how long can your body handle this transformation? And just how much can you grow before it kills you?"

Troy felt like the ground beneath him had vanished. If what they were saying was true… Did Nina try to kill me?

His breathing turned shallow, his hands tightening into fists. Did she know about the serum's instability? Did she give it to me knowing the consequences?

His mind was reeling. No. That couldn't be right.

He must've been visibly shaken because the scarred man spoke up, his voice steady but laced with amusement.

"I understand this is a lot to take in," he said, his ever-present grin somehow even wider. "Espers have been a well-kept secret of the human race. For a normal civilian like you, this must feel like your entire world is collapsing. But rest assured, Bastion will do everything in its power to help you—and the other survivors."

Troy narrowed his eyes. "Your grin isn't helping."

The man chuckled, finally easing back.

"Wait—others? There are others like me?" Troy asked, seizing onto that crucial detail.

"Yes," the man confirmed, his smile finally shrinking. "So far, we've managed to secure four other survivors like you."

Troy exhaled slowly, trying to process. I'm not alone in this.

"And you," the man continued, "are a special case. You've shown the highest level of power out of all the artificials. Celia's reports mentioned you snapped a metal bed frame in half."

"He did?" Lux finally interjected, suddenly more interested. His floating posture straightened slightly. "Wait. You still haven't answered my first question. What color was the serum you were given?"

Troy frowned, thinking back. "Green, if I remember correctly… I wasn't paying much attention. I was too busy trying to confess my love to Nina."

Lux's expression twisted in intrigue. "Green? Interesting. That could mean a modified variant. The other serums we've accounted for were blue—given primarily to teenagers in the city by unknown individuals."

The scientist was now muttering to himself, deep in thought. Then his gaze snapped back to Troy, sharp as a knife.

"Wait. Did you say Nina?"

Troy's heart skipped. "You know Nina?"

A spark of hope flickered in him. If they knew her, maybe—just maybe—he could find her again.

But Lux's response sent a shiver down his spine.

"Know? It was much more then familiarity funny boy, We studied under the same person… until she ran off after killing her professor. That bitch."

Troy's stomach dropped.

"Easy there," he snapped, the usual humor in his voice gone. "She killed someone? That can't be right. The Nina I knew—she wouldn't…"

His voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite himself.

Lux scoffed. "The Nina you knew?"

He leaned in slightly, his red eyes piercing. "The Nina you knew was hiding, playing pretend as a nurse in that little hospital of yours. She's part of a dangerous organization, and we suspect she was on the team that created the serum."

Troy felt like his entire world had shattered.