Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Ignite
Milrys’s POV
Fifty years had passed since the Great Fall of 3048—the devastating event that turned Earth into a haunting memory of its former self. For the survivors, time did little to ease the wounds left by the meteors. Instead, it deepened the fractures in humanity, dividing it into those who adapted and those who perished.
Milrys grew up in the aftermath of this fractured world, surrounded by the stories of how everything had unraveled. The tales were vivid and terrifying—fire raining from the sky, seas boiling into steam, and mountains reduced to ashes. Wysteria,—the new world, was a name whispered with both reverence and fear.
But for Milrys, those stories were nothing more than myths, recounted by her parents during quiet evenings in their fortified compound. To her, Wysteria wasn’t chaos; it was home, albeit one confined by high walls and Forser guards. Her parents, respected scientists, had dedicated their lives to understanding the mutations caused by the meteors. Their work brought safety but also an unspoken weight of expectation.
Yet, even within their meticulously controlled world, the unexpected always found a way in.
The Awakening
That fateful night began like any other. The rain that night was relentless, drumming against the reinforced glass of Milrys’s room. She loved the sound—it was calming, a steady rhythm in a world filled with uncertainties. She curled up in her oversized chair, the warm light of her tablet casting a soft glow on her face as she read.
She barely registered the sharp pain at first. It was a twinge in her temple, like a needle pricking her thoughts. But then it grew, spreading like wildfire down her spine and into her limbs.
The tablet slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor.
“W-what…” she gasped, clutching her head.
The pain was unlike anything she had ever known. It consumed her, leaving no room for thought or reason. A scream tore from her throat, raw and primal, reverberating through the quiet house.
Jahaerys—her childhood friend and neighbor, was the first to hear her cries. Trained by her military parents to handle emergencies, Jahaerys reacted without hesitation. Rain soaked her clothes as she sprinted across the courtyard to Milrys’s home, her boots splashing through puddles.
Bursting through the front door, she called out, “Milrys!”
The house was eerily quiet except for the sound of the rain and Milrys’s screams. Jahaerys didn’t pause; she followed the sound upstairs and into Milrys’s room.
The sight stopped her cold.
Milrys was on the floor, her body twisting in unnatural spasms. Her nails had gouged deep marks into the wooden floor, and her sweat-soaked hair clung to her pale face.
“Milrys!” Jahaerys knelt beside her, her voice urgent. “Ano nangyayari? Naririnig mo ba ako?”
"Shit!" Jahaerys cursed under her breath.
Milrys’s only response was a guttural cry as her body convulsed.
Jahaerys fumbled for her comm device, her hands shaking. “Tito, si Milrys! Something’s wrong—she’s screaming in pain. Please, umuwi na po kayo!”
“Stay with her,” Milrys’s father said, his voice sharp and urgent. “We’re on our way.”
Her parents arrived moments later, their faces etched with fear. Her mother dropped to her knees beside Milrys, stroking her sweat-drenched hair.
“Milrys, anak, we’re here. Just hold on,” she whispered, though her voice trembled.
Her father examined her with practiced urgency, his hands moving over her fevered skin. When he spoke, his tone was heavy with grim certainty.
“She’s a Number.”
His words were a knife to the air.
A Number. Jahaerys thought that it is impossible for her friend to awaken as a Number. "Sa lahat ng pwede maging Number bakit si Milrys pa?"
Jahaerys hated the sight in front of her but she couldn't do anything but stare. Only feeling sorry for Milrys.
"I'm sorry, Milrys…" she thought
“What?” Milrys’s mother’s voice broke. “No… She’s just a child.”
“She’s awakening,” her father replied. “We need to stabilize her now, or we’ll lose her.”
Desperation and Survival
Desperation led them to contact a trusted Forser colleague, one who had kept Milrys’s parents’ secrets before. The Forser instructed them to retrieve an emergency stabilizer hidden in their home—a small vial of blue liquid stored in a compartment near their console.
The stabilizer was a last resort—a blue serum. Milrys’s father retrieved it, his hands trembling as he filled the syringe.
“This will hurt,” he warned, though Milrys was beyond hearing him.
The needle pierced at the back of her neck, and for a moment, her body arched as if rejecting the serum. Then, as the substance coursed through her veins, she collapsed into stillness.
The Forsers’ colleague on the comm device was blunt. “That’s only a temporary solution. Bring her to headquarters before it’s too late.”
The next week was hell.
Every night, the pain returned, each time worse than before. The stabilizer was losing its effectiveness, and Milrys’s body grew immune to its effects. Her parents worked tirelessly, calling in favors and gathering supplies, but they were running out of options.
On the seventh night, as Milrys screamed herself hoarse, her parents made the hardest decision of their lives.
“We can’t keep doing this,” her father said, his voice breaking. “She’s not going to last. You have to understand. This is also hard for me.”
Her mother cannot do anything about it, clutching Milrys’s hand.
“She’s not safe here,” he interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. “If we don’t, she won’t survive the week.”
“And we’re not equipped to save her,” her father continued. With heavy hearts, they prepared to take Milrys to the Forsers’ headquarters.
The Forser Headquarters
The Forser headquarters was a marvel of post-Fall engineering, a towering fortress of steel and glass that glowed faintly in the darkness. Fifty years after the Great Fall, it was both a sanctuary and a prison, depending on one’s perspective.
Inside, the sterile air carried the faint hum of advanced machinery. Blue-lit panels lined the walls, and rows of cylindrical chambers bubbled with mysterious liquids. Milrys was wheeled into the laboratory, her parents trailing behind her like shadows.
A Forser scientist approached, clipboard in hand. “We’ll take over from here.”
Milrys’s mother hesitated, gripping her daughter’s hand. “Please… take care of her.”
Will they?
The scientist offered a clinical smile. “She’s in good hands.”
Is she?
As the doors closed, cutting off her parents’ worried faces, Milrys felt the first pang of true fear.
The Transformation
The lab became her world—a cold, mechanical hell where her humanity was dissected piece by piece. Needles pierced her skin; machines buzzed and whirred around her. Every part of her body was analyzed, recorded, and tested.
She stopped screaming after the first few days. It didn’t make a difference.
Then, one morning, Milrys stared into the mirror and saw a stranger. Her once-brown eyes now glowed an unnatural blue, Roman numerals etched faintly into her irises.
“You’re a Number now,” a scientist said, jotting notes on a clipboard. “Congratulations.”
Number.
Number.
Number.
The word keeps on repeating on Milrys's head as if it's a poison etching in her skin.
The words felt like a death sentence. A Number. A being of power, feared and exploited. Her old life was gone, consumed by the mutation that now defined her.
The Birth of the Flame
One evening, during yet another round of experiments, something snapped inside Milrys. A scientist attempted to draw more blood, their detached demeanor grating against her fraying nerves.
“No,” she whispered, pulling her arm away.
The scientist reached for her again, and this time, the heat erupted from her core. Flames burst from her hands, engulfing the table in an instant.
The scientists scrambled, alarms blaring as the fire raged.
Milrys stared at her hands, the fire reflecting in her glowing eyes. It felt wild and uncontrollable, yet undeniably hers.
But as the flames flickered and died, the weight of her new reality settled over her. She was no longer just Milrys, the sheltered daughter of Forsers. She is now a Number , a being of power—and a pawn in a game she would never understand.
And she wasn’t sure if she’d ever find her way back.
The birth of a Number is both a tragedy and a rebirth. The question is, what will they become? What will she become?
But one thing's for sure.
Power.