"Damn brat! Get out of here!!" A kick to her stomach jolted her wide-awake. As she awoke from her light slumber, she turned to register the crude man that had just kicked her from her resting spot. A slum-dweller, just like her. And here the two of them were, fighting over the right to sleep in one of the last few remaining warm corners in Slum Sector-9B.

As she re-oriented herself, she gnarled her teeth in an attempt to intimidate her opponent. Unfortunately, the man simply gave her a derisive chuckle. He was clearly underestimating her. He'd regret that. Whilst the man was still full of openings, she leapt towards the man with a vicious snarl.

-One fight later

"Better know yer' damn place! Ya little brat!!" As she fled from the scene in defeat, she could hear the man's mocking shouts booming from the corner she had just been resting in. Not too loud that they would draw unnecessary attention, but just enough to get the man's taunts across, and for her to feel bile rising up her throat. As she ran, she felt her whole body ache and groan. Besides her stomach, she had been hit all over the place. One of her legs was limp, having taken a large swing, and she felt her shoulders creaking in agony as she ran. It hurt. It hurt so much. No matter how many times she was hit, the pain always hurt. She could feel droplets of moisture forming in her eyes as she continued to run.

 It's so unfair, why am I still so weak?

In an unforgiving world ruled by strength and grit, Cassandra lacked the former. She was roughly around sixteen years old, although she wasn't too certain about her own age, yet her stature was closer to that of a twelve year old child. With such a flimsy body, scrawny arms, how could she ever beat an adult? Throughout the altercation with the man, she had resorted to constantly scratching and biting at his vulnerable arms, hoping to chase him away rather than actually take him down. Powerless as always.

As she continued to sprint across the dark, stinking alleyways, her mind whirled with lament. She had to search for a new place to sleep. It wasn't safe out in the alleys of the slums.

She spoke out in a small voice, "Status."

A translucent blue screen appeared before her eyes.

Name: Cassandra

Occupation: None

Level: 3

Experience: 36/150

Talents: Appraisal <Lv.2>

Skills: Analysis <Lv. 1>

Legacies: None

Combat Power: 34

As her eyes scanned over the blue screen whilst she ran, she found herself unintentionally gritting her teeth. It had been three years since the night she saw the comet fall. In those three years, nothing had changed. She was still weak and scrawny, with virtually no power to stand her ground. She had once thought that she could get stronger, that with these new "levels" and "skills", she could triumph over any obstacle with enough grit. That kind of thinking had almost gotten her killed when she stood her ground against a group of local slum boys.

"Ouch!!"

As she ran, she unknowingly tripped over a particular piece of scrap metal on the ground. A small gasp of pain escaped her as she fell down across the damp floor. "Yeow…" As she briefly examined her feet, panting in pain, she noticed a brand new gash running across its side. "Ha…ha…" She had to get back up. She couldn't afford to lose momentum. Having run barefoot her whole life, she was used to these kinds of injuries. Though not as bad as some of the adults she had seen, the soles of her feet were already just about as dirty and bruised as they could be for someone of her age.

As she got back up, she found herself quickly running once more. In her current state, it was unlikely she could secure another shelter for herself. It was to be another sleepless night.

Straining her eyes in the dark, she saw the alleyways in her path diverged into two. She made a sharp turn right, taking notice of the battered, worn down sign on the wall as she ran.

Sector-8A

As she whirled around the corner, she saw the desolate, open area of Sector-8A. An open field full of dumped trash and rotting garbage, surrounded on all fours by the walls of the maze that was the slum alleyways. Tilting her head up, she could see the massive structures of the upper levels, completely blotting the sky from view. That was, save for one area in this Sector. The only place in the slums where you could view the sky.

…why did it matter? Sometimes she couldn't help but ask herself this question. This stupid, stupid question. Clearly nobody else cared whether they saw the sky. It was either just a light-blue or black surface above them. Why come here to the barren wasteland to see some color when you were too busy scavenging tomorrow's meal?

…

Because it was where her hopes had been born. It was where she first saw a chance. It was where the System called out to her. To her, the view of the sky was special, no matter how pointless it seemed to be.

She slowly limped across the field of trash, ignoring the searing pain of metal and plastic chipping away at the soles of her feet. Ignoring the awful, awful stench permeating across the whole Sector. Ignoring the damp cold of the night. Thankfully, no one else was here to threaten her. Nobody ever comes here, after all. It meant she could pass the night safely. Not in peace, but safety in and of itself was already a luxury for someone like her. It was a good thing the bottom layers were generally warm. From what she heard, it was where most of the power generators and engines that powered the upper levels were. Because of that, the nights here may have been cold, but not life-threateningly so. It was a small solace in this pit of misery.

"...huh?"

As she continued to limp across, she noticed something shining brightly in the middle of the field, just beneath the gaps of the upper levels, in the only area where the sky was visible. Pale blue light glistened off the reflectlive surfaces of the surrounding scrap. As she approached the light source one limping step at a time, she found the need to shield her eyes from the blinding blue light.

 

What was that? Was that the System's skills she'd heard about? Or a machine? Some weird junk thrown down by someone from the upper levels? A-

"...a fallen star?"

No, not a fallen star. You.