Chapter 8 – Dimension System (Part 2)
It took Zane several minutes just to calm the wild thundering in his chest. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins left his hands trembling and his breath shallow. That one notification—that tiny glimmer of possibility—had lit something in him that he hadn't felt in years: hope.
And it terrified him.
No one, not even those closest to him, could truly understand what this meant. For years, the same question had haunted his every step: What happens if I don't get accepted? What if he gave everything—every ounce of strength, every drop of blood and sweat—only to fall short?
If that happened, if the injection rejected him, then everything he'd worked for would dissolve into nothingness. His entire purpose, his burning desire to find the ones responsible for his mother's fate and make them pay, would vanish. He'd be shackled to Earth, powerless to change a single thing.
To him, that was worse than death.
Zane pressed a hand to his chest, trying to slow his breathing. The thought that he might actually be accepted into the dimensional travel program—finally—shook him to his core.
But he couldn't afford to get ahead of himself.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge the hope before it rooted too deeply. "I can't jump to conclusions yet. I need to wait for confirmation. I'll know once I take the injection."
Still, the idea alone was overwhelming. If this system truly meant what he thought it did... then everything could change. His path in life would drastically divert.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, grounding his thoughts, "let's focus on the rest of the system."
His eyes returned to the panel still hovering in front of him, and his gaze zeroed in on a particular line:
State: Dormant (Unlock to access the rest of the profile.)
That one sentence told him plenty.
"Dormant," he repeated thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "Isn't that what people are considered before they're able to access other dimensions?"
That made sense. The system clearly wasn't fully active yet—likely tied to whether his body had adapted enough to endure interdimensional travel. The process of awakening must be connected to the injection, meaning that soon—maybe even tomorrow—he'd know the truth.
"All of this hinges on that one step," he murmured. "Once I get the injection, it'll all fall into place."
Then his eyes drifted lower to the status section… and his expression soured.
Status: (Average in 'Lower Earth': 10)
Strength: 7
Agility: 6
Stamina: 8
Health: 7
Core Energy: 0
Dimension Resistance: 0
Bonus Points: 0
Zane stared at the numbers in silence. His jaw clenched.
"This is a joke," he muttered under his breath.
Every stat was below average—every one. The only one remotely close was stamina, and even that didn't reach the standard ten-point average for Earth. A cold, hollow feeling settled in his chest.
'After everything...'
For years, he'd trained himself to exhaustion. He'd pushed his limits day after day, determined to prepare his body and mind for the injection. While others partied, slept in, or wasted their lives, he was grinding, trying to close the gap between himself and the naturally gifted.
And yet... this.
'So what was all that for?' he thought bitterly. 'What did I even achieve?'
His shoulders slumped as he lowered his head, a heavy breath leaving his lungs. It felt like a cruel joke—like the universe was laughing at him for ever daring to believe he could keep up. It was cruel and yet comically in line with what he believed about that world. Everything he assumed was correct.
But even as that despair clung to him like a second skin, another feeling began to rise beneath it.
Anger.
"Well, I guess that's what I should've expected from this cursed world," he spat through clenched teeth. "It chooses its heroes from birth—and the rest of us are left in the dirt to rot."
He sat in that bitterness for a long moment… until his eyes flicked back to the glowing panel.
"But… if this system is real… if it's truly mine…"
His fingers slowly curled into a fist.
"Then maybe I can still catch up. Maybe this is the edge I needed."
Zane's gaze hardened. "Alright. Let's break this down."
The first four stats were self-explanatory—strength, agility, stamina, health. All lower than average, and all things he would need to work on. Nothing surprising there.
But the last few… they piqued his curiosity.
"Core Energy…" he mused aloud. "That's the energy Dimensional Knights use, right? The thing that fuels their powers and abilities."
That one being zero made sense. He hadn't awakened yet—he had no powers. Not yet.
"But Dimension Resistance… that's new."
He leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes.
"I guess that's how well I can endure different environments in other realms. Some of those places are freezing, others are sweltering, and who knows what else. I'll need to build up resistance to survive out there."
He nodded to himself, mentally adding it to his long list of things to improve.
"And then there's… Bonus Points."
No explanation was given, but it wasn't hard to guess. Points he could allocate manually, maybe? Something to enhance himself as he progressed?
"I'll figure that one out later."
Satisfied for the moment, Zane finally dismissed the glowing window and leaned back against the nearby chair. His entire body ached, and his breathing was still shallow. Bruises throbbed with every heartbeat, and he could swear at least one of his ribs had cracked.
Still… he smiled.
"What I just experienced…" he whispered, conjuring the system one more time just to make sure it was still there.
It was.
Staring at the transparent window, he let out a slow breath and dismissed it again.
"I still don't know who gave this to me or why," he thought, dragging himself to his feet, "but if it's a tool that can help me reach them…"
He limped forward, gritting his teeth. "Then I'll make full use of it."
Each step sent pain shooting through his leg, but he pressed on. He placed a hand on his side and winced as the pain spiked.
"Yeah… definitely a broken rib," he groaned.
But pain didn't matter. Not anymore. His enemies had made a grave mistake—they'd given him a reason to keep going.
They thought he was weak.
They thought he would give up.
They would see how wrong they were.
"Just wait…" Zane muttered under his breath. "Just wait… I'm coming."
He staggered his way back into the school building, drawing gasps and horrified stares from every direction. His uniform was torn and soaked in blood. His face was pale, bruised, and drenched in sweat. He looked more like a walking corpse than a student.
"Oh my god…"
"Is that him...?"
"What the hell happened to him?!"
"He looks like a monster—move out of the way!"
People scrambled as he passed, pressing themselves against the walls, avoiding eye contact like he was contagious. He ignored them all. Their whispers, their loathing, their fear—none of it mattered now. He couldn't careless about any of those idiots at that moment. He was barely conscious as he was.
He climbed to the third floor and shoved the infirmary door open.
The nurse inside looked up, startled. "Oh my—!"
"Excuse… me…" Zane said weakly, slumping against the doorframe. The pain was unbearable now, waves of it crashing through him. His skin was clammy with sweat, and the color had drained from his face.
The nurse rushed toward him in a panic.
"Oh my god! Are you alright?! Sit down—no, I'm calling an ambulance!"
"No…" Zane coughed, grabbing her arm weakly. "No… ambulance…"
His voice was hoarse and barely audible.
"Just… treat my wounds… Please..."
Then, everything went completely black for Zane, and he lost consciousness.