I awakened the S rank ability and invade another world

Honestly, all this still feels like a dream to Sil.

Just yesterday, he was a regular guy. Normal. Boring. He'd wake up, check the market, watch numbers go up and down, and eat leftover dumplings cold. Now… there's a rift in the sky, and he's apparently part of a sci-fi movie he didn't audition for.

He has to admit, his generation's adaptability is impressive. They grew up imagining aliens, fantasy worlds, reincarnations, superpowers. They joked about it online. Escaped to it when reality got too heavy.

But those were fantasies.

Now, it's real?

Even Sil—someone who prides himself on staying calm no matter what—felt the ground slip under him.

He's the kind of guy who doesn't flinch if someone punches him. He wouldn't waste time thinking "why did he hit me?" He'd find the fastest, cleanest solution and move on.

But this?

This is big. And if it shakes him, imagine what it's doing to the rest of the world.

Total chaos is everywhere. But order's still holding—for now. That's the only reason he's not strapped to a table with wires in his skull yet. They'll come for him eventually. But not now.

And yeah… he figured out the eyes.

It's surprisingly simple. Once he focuses—like, really locks in—a thin line forms between him and the object. Then a cold voice in his head asks: "Do you want to extract?"

If he says yes, the object vanishes—gone. Just energy, flowing into his eyes.

From there, he can shape it. Create whatever he wants. How does he know? He tests it in the toilet.

Overpowered? Hell yes.

But not without limits. The more complex or ridiculous the thing is, the more energy it burns. Makes sense. He can't just spawn a nuke out of a crumpled napkin.

"Sil," Mei said from the chair by the door. "Someone's here to see you. Military. Same guy came by when you were sleeping too."

Of course they'd show up. No way they'd leave someone like him unchecked.

Sil's guessing they've already got bugs in this room. Snipers, probably. Mei hasn't asked him many questions. She knows better. She's smart. She knows this room isn't private. That if he said too much, they might decide he's a problem.

She's protecting him in the only way she can—by staying quiet.

"Let him in," Sil said.

Time to steer the conversation himself. Set the tone. If the world's changing, if awakenings are real, then he has to make one thing clear:

He's not a threat.

Not to them. Not to anyone.

If they believe that, they won't move against him. Hell, they'll probably try to recruit him. China isn't stupid. They're watching the global trend, just like everyone else.

You don't poke the beast when you don't know how strong its claws are. You smile. Offer food. Build a cage out of favors and promises.

They won't take the risk of turning powerful Awakened into enemies—not if they're smart.

And Sil?

He'll smile back. For now.

Hospital Room – 4:43 p.m.

The door opened without a knock.

Black boots. Gray uniform. Neatly pressed. A man stepped in, early 40s maybe, lean like a knife. His face looked like it had forgotten how to smile twenty years ago. No name tag. No insignia Sil could see. Just a clipboard and tired eyes.

He closed the door behind him. Click.

"Mr. Sil," he said.

Sil looked at him. He didn't nod. Didn't speak yet.

The man waited half a second longer, then continued.

"My name doesn't matter. I'm here on behalf of a certain department tasked with national security. You understand."

Sil gave a slight shrug. "You're late. I thought you'd come yesterday."

"We did," the man replied. "You were unconscious. We didn't want to startle the girl."

Mei didn't move. She just sat in the corner, headphones on, pretending to be absorbed in music. But Sil could see her head tilt slightly, angling to catch the conversation.

Smart girl.

The man pulled up a chair. Didn't ask. Sat.

"You're aware, of course, that your… incident… is not isolated."

Sil raised an eyebrow. "You mean the people turning into fireworks and statues?"

A flicker of amusement touched the man's mouth. Barely.

"Let's not get poetic. You're one of the few who survived the Awakening event. You're conscious. Stable. That makes you valuable."

"To who?" Sil asked, leaning back against the pillows.

"To everyone."

Sil let the silence hang.

The man adjusted the clipboard on his lap. "What happened to you—can you control it?"

"Not really your business," Sil said flatly. "Not unless I become a threat."

"And that's what we're here to determine."

Sil's eyes narrowed. "That sounds like a threat."

"No," the man said. "If it were, you wouldn't be talking to me. You'd be talking to the barrel of a drone."

Mei flinched slightly. Sil didn't.

"Let's not waste each other's time," Sil said. "You're not here to lock me up. Not yet. You're here to check the temperature. See if I'm the kind of person who might burn your house down or keep it warm."

The officer said nothing.

Sil kept going. "Well, good news. I don't like burning things. I like quiet. Boring. Repeating days. I'm not a threat. Unless someone makes me one."

"Then you'll have no problem helping us."

Sil smiled for the first time.

"Define help."

"Share what you know. Let us monitor your condition. Collaborate, when needed."

"You mean work for you."

"Work with us."

Sil tilted his head. "What if I say no?"

The officer stood. "Then we'll keep watching. And waiting. Until you say yes. Or until you make a mistake."

He walked to the door, then paused.

"For what it's worth," he said, without turning around, "I hope you're one of the good ones."

The door opened. Closed.

Sil leaned his head back. Exhaled.

Mei pulled off her headphones. "He sounded like a villain trying not to sound like a villain."

"Yeah," Sil muttered. "But he's not the scary one."

She frowned. "Who is?"

"The ones that'll come if I do say no."

Sil felt a surge of urgency. 'At this rate, I don't have many options.'

He considered cooperating with the military. He was sure they'd create groups just for people like him and would want him to join their newly formed supernatural unit under their control. While such a group might look good to the public, he knew their true intentions: to test ability and research countermeasures. If he were in command, he'd do the same; he couldn't fault them for that.

His second option was to run. But the risk was immense. He doubted he could go toe-to-toe with fully armed soldiers, especially as a newly awakened individual. He couldn't even kill a chicken right now, let alone protect himself and Mei. There was a catch, though: if he could somehow acquire a huge energy source, he might instantly become superhuman. To know whether to take that risk, he needed to understand the value of conversion. He mused about creating a system, like those he'd read about in books, to make gauging value easier.

Regardless of his choice, he had to keep his ability completely hidden. According to the news, most awakened individuals weren't as unique as he was—or perhaps he just hadn't seen the more subtle powers. Either way, he needed to ensure the military remained unaware of his ability's core function. Only then could he lower their guard. For now, openly discussing his enhanced sight and range would serve as a disguise.

Classified Briefing – Geneva, Switzerland – UN Emergency Session

Inside a soundproofed hall beneath the surface of the Palais des Nations, all seats were occupied. Men and women representing the most militarized and technologically advanced nations in the world sat at a steel table that had never once hosted good news.

No press. No aides. No cameras.

Just data.Footage.And fear.

A screen lit up. Silent drone footage played overhead.

A man in rural Argentina spontaneously combusted during a church service. No ignition source. No heat trace.

In Ghana, a farmer collapsed in the field. His body turned into blue stone from the inside out.

In Seoul, a teenager screamed and shattered every glass window within a three-block radius—without moving.

No patterns. No origin point. No common ancestry, religion, or bloodline.

Just… Awakenings.

"Let's get to the point," said the woman from France, flipping through the data packet. "You've confirmed it. The source is the Mongolian rift."

The representative from China didn't nod. Didn't deny.

"Ten kilometers wide," she said. "Holding steady. Origin unknown. Appeared without seismic disturbance. Satellite data confirms it show no traces and appeared out of thin air instantly."

The Russian tapped a finger. "And what's on the other side?"

Silence.

Then: "Not Earth."

A pause.

"How do you know?"

The American answered this time. "Drone footage sent in. Glitched out after twenty-seven seconds. Enough to confirm livable planet structures for carbon life forms"

The Chinese delegate finally spoke."We must prioritize stabilization. Our recommendations:"

Immediate formation of a Global Awakened Response Coalition (GARC), combining military, scientific, and intelligence assets from member states.

Strict surveillance of known Awakened individuals, with protocols for recruitment, containment, or neutralization.

Controlled release of information to the public, to prevent panic but keep trust.

Research acceleration into understanding the origins of the rift, and potential countermeasures.

Diplomatic channels opened to discuss coordinated response, avoiding unilateral actions that could escalate into conflict.

The American delegate added,"We've also authorized black-ops teams tasked with covert tracking and, if necessary, elimination of threats."

The French delegate looked grim."The problem is, we don't know who's a threat and who isn't. Some awakenings might be peaceful, others catastrophic."

The British representative nodded."And the longer this goes on, the more volatile the situation becomes. We need to anticipate worst-case scenarios."

The Russian smiled thinly."War is already here. We just haven't declared it yet."

"Let's change the subject back to rift, I worry more about it"

The conference room buzzed with low murmurs, flickering screens showing live feeds of the swirling rift hovering over the Mongolian steppe. It was an eerie, shimmering tear against the pale sky — impossible to ignore, impossible to ignore the danger it posed.

The Mongolian Prime Minister, a composed woman with steel in her eyes, addressed the group.

"This rift hovers more than two hundred meters above the ground. Our scientists have never seen anything like it. It's stable for now, but unstable enough to threaten our airspace and population."

She gestured to the massive screen showing satellite images and 3D scans of the rift and the surrounding terrain.

"To send troops, we must build a temporary base — a staging platform with launch and extraction capabilities. This will require rapid construction of specialized aerial cranes and reinforced scaffolding."

The UN Secretary-General nodded gravely.

"Time is critical. The rift's energy radiates dangerous levels of interference. We must prepare for electronic disruption and unknown biological threats."

A senior UN military commander spoke.

"Our joint engineering teams have begun surveying the area. The plan is to deploy modular scaffolding platforms capable of holding armored vehicles and personnel, linked by temporary skybridges. This will serve as the forward base of operations."

The Russian representative leaned forward.

"How quickly can this be built? Our troops can't wait indefinitely."

The Mongolian Defense Minister replied, voice firm but measured.

"With international support, initial scaffolding can be erected in 3 days. Full operational capacity may take up to one weeks."

The American military advisor frowned.

"one week is too long. The longer we wait, the more unpredictable the situation becomes. Is there any possibility of air insertion?"

The Mongolian Prime Minister shook her head.

"The rift's field disables most aircraft within a 5-kilometer radius. Air insertion is impossible. Ground approach is the only option."

A Chinese delegate spoke next.

"Once the platform is in place, what are the objectives?"

The UN Secretary-General answered.

"Reconnaissance. Collection of samples and intelligence. Assessment of any potential threats. And establishing a secure foothold for future operations."

The Mongolian Prime Minister's gaze swept the room.

"We also request respect for our sovereignty. This operation takes place on our land. Any military action must be coordinated with Mongolian command."

The room acknowledged this with nods.

A European military strategist added, "We must prepare for worst-case scenarios. Hostile entities, environmental hazards, and weird anomalies."

The UN Security Council chair summarized.

"The stakes could not be higher. The world watches. We build the bridge into the unknown — literally. Failure could mean disaster, success may buy us time."

The meeting adjourned with a shared, silent resolve.

Outside, the rift pulsed faintly against the sky. The future was uncertain — but the countdown to the first step had begun.