The world didn’t stop because monsters existed.
Life kept moving.
People rebuilt. Governments adapted.
They had no choice.
The standard path still existed:
Go to school.
Get a job.
Live your life.
But there were changes.
Now, Special Forces units were stationed throughout the cities — ready to respond if another outbreak occurred.
Each sector of Eastwind City had its own units.
They were trained, armed, and placed there like living shields.
The government also passed a new law:
At fifteen years old, anyone could apply to join a unit.
No restrictions based on background.
No requirement for Abilities .
For some, it was a chance to serve.
For others, a chance to fight back.
As for me...
I had just turned fifteen at the end of last year.
Eastwind City was massive.
Naturally, the forces were divided — some units stronger than others.
The most famous were the Top 25 units, recognized for their strength, experience, and elite members.
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But I wasn’t aiming for them.
I had my eyes set on Rank 26:
Project: Takeover.
Or simply, PTO.
They weren't respected like the Top 25.
Their reputation had been slipping for years — members transferring out, poor performance reports, declining numbers.
But they had one thing no other unit offered:
They accepted people without special abilities unlike others.
And that made all the difference.
Application was simple enough.
There was a form online.
Name.
Age.
Date of birth.
The usual.
But one question stood out:
"Why do you want to join?"
I hesitated before typing my answer.
I didn't write about honor.
I didn't write about duty.
I simply wrote the truth:
"Because it’s the only reason I haven’t killed myself yet."
Then I hit send.
That was two months ago.
They hadn’t responded yet.
But I didn’t sit around waiting.
Every day, I trained — strength, speed, endurance.
Basic things.
Things I could control.
Without abilities, that's all I had.
My body.
My will.
Blood-born abilities...
Those were different.
People who possessed them could command elements, manipulate spiritual energy, or even bend the laws of nature itself.
Abilities manifested differently for each individual, but they always touched one of three aspects:
The body.
The mind.
Or the soul.
Some inherited powers through bloodlines — ancient gifts passed down from generation to generation.
As for me?
If there was any power in my blood, it was too diluted to matter.
Or maybe it had never been there at all.
I didn’t care anymore.
I would survive without it.
One way or another.