I don't know where I am.

  The air is thick and humid, pressing against my skin like a wet blanket. The smell of soil and moss fills my lungs. Everything feels damp, alive, and watching.

  I think it's the jungle I saw when I was a kid… but something feels wrong.

  The trees are too tall. Their trunks twist like they’re alive, and their branches stretch so high they block most of the sky. Only thin strands of pale light manage to slip through the leaves. The ground beneath my feet is uneven and soft, as if something lies buried beneath layers of dirt and roots.

  Strange sounds echo all around me.

  Chirping insects. Leaves shifting. Something large is moving somewhere far away.

  Then I hear it.

  A roar.

  At first, it sounds distant, like thunder rolling across a mountain valley.

  But the next time I hear it, it’s closer.

  My legs begin to shake. My teeth chatter even though I’m not cold. I try to move, but every direction looks the same—endless jungle, endless shadows.

  The roar comes again.

  Closer.

  For a brief moment, the air around me ripples like heat waves, distorting the trees. My chest tightens. I feel something strange building inside me, something I can’t explain.

  Then suddenly the jungle goes silent.

  Too silent.

  No insects.

  No wind.

  Nothing.

  A deep growl rumbles behind me.

  I hesitate. Every instinct tells me not to turn around.

  But I do anyway.

  Through the tangled shadows of vines and leaves, I see it.

  A massive head emerges from behind the trees. Its shape is barely visible in the darkness, but its eyes shine clearly—large, golden, and locked onto me.

  They stare at me as if they recognize something.

  The creature takes a step forward.

  The ground trembles slightly.

  My heart starts pounding.

  Another step.

  Another growl.

  Panic surges through me, and I turn to run—

  Then suddenly…

  Nothing.

  I woke up drenched in sweat.

  For a moment, I was still panicking, my chest rising and falling rapidly as if I had actually been running. My room slowly came into focus around me, and the tension drained from my body.

  Just a dream.

  A really bad dream.

  I sat up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. I was back in my bed.

  The last thing I remembered was floating inside the deprivation tank at the hospital. I vaguely recalled voices, hands lifting me out of the water, someone checking my pulse—but everything after that was a blur.

  Now I was home.

  I glanced down at myself and groaned slightly. I was still wearing the hospital gown… and the horrible Speedo they made me wear for the test.

  Fantastic.

  My eyes moved across the room until they landed on my bedside table. A folded note sat there.

  I picked it up and opened it.

  Jacob,

  You passed out during the test. Instead of waiting around at the hospital, I brought you home so you could recover properly. When you wake up, take a shower, change your clothes, and come downstairs. We need to talk.

  —Dad

  I sighed.

  Great. A serious talk.

  After showering and changing into something comfortable, I walked downstairs to the kitchen.

  My dad was already sitting at the kitchen island when I arrived. In front of him sat a thick manila folder filled with papers.

  I sat down across from him.

  Dad started speaking in an unusually cheerful tone.

  “So, how are you feeling? Being stuck in that deprivation tank can be a real doozy, but you handled yourself well overall. Your results were good, so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I leaned forward slightly.

  “So what knocked me out?”

  My dad’s smile faded just a little.

  “Well… during the test, you became overwhelmed by your senses. That kind of sensory overload can happen sometimes. Your body basically shut itself down, and you passed out.”

  I nodded slowly.

  But something about that explanation didn’t sit right with me.

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  I didn’t remember any kind of overwhelming sensation before I blacked out. No lights, no noise, nothing. Just calm silence.

  Maybe it was just my teenage skepticism kicking in… but I kept the thought to myself.

  Dad opened the folder in front of him.

  Inside was a sleek card and several official-looking documents.

  His expression turned more serious.

  Immediately, my stomach tightened. For a moment, I worried he somehow knew about the secret my mom had told me.

  But instead, he said:

  “Your documents arrived today. This includes your Irregular Identification Card and the legal paperwork that comes with it.”

  He slid the folder toward me.

  “Originally, I was going to store these in the safety deposit box. But since you completed the testing process, I decided to trust you with them. Think of it as both a reward and a responsibility.”

  I opened the folder and pulled out the card.

  It was heavier than I expected.

  The card looked like polished platinum, cool and smooth in my hands. Thin lines of faint light slowly moved beneath its surface like veins of energy flowing through metal.

  My name was engraved across the top along with several identification numbers I didn’t recognize.

  The photo section was empty, just a blank square that shimmered faintly.

  On the back was a black strip with a reflective edge that almost looked liquid when the light hit it.

  “This is… actually pretty cool,” I admitted.

  Dad chuckled.

  The rest of the folder contained official documents listing my normal information—name, birthdate, legal status, citizenship, and so on.

  But something strange caught my eye.

  Next to my name was a symbol I had never seen before.

  It looked like a circle split down the center by a jagged line. One half resembled a crescent moon, while the other looked like a claw mark tearing through it.

  Beneath the symbol was a long name written in unfamiliar lettering.

  I looked up.

  “Dad… what is this weird name next to the symbol?”

  He nodded approvingly.

  “Good question. This is important, so remember what I’m about to tell you.”

  He leaned back slightly.

  “Some regulars believe bloodlines and family heritage are extremely important. Because of that, certain families create names to represent their lineage. That symbol and name identify our bloodline among irregulars.”

  I blinked.

  “Then why have it if it matters so much?”

  Dad’s expression hardened slightly.

  “Because whether I like it or not, that’s how the system recognizes us.”

  Then his tone grew serious.

  “But listen carefully—never mention that name to anyone. Not casually. Not jokingly. Not even to other irregulars that demand it from you.”

  “It has no importance to your life,” he continued. “If anything, it’s a hindrance.”

  “Okay…” I said slowly. “So I never mention it. Even in irregular-related situations?”

  “Son,” Dad replied firmly, “you’re still a minor living under your mother’s and my roof. There is absolutely no reason for you to be using that card or your irregular identity for anything yet.”

  “What about being a Passageway Explorer?”

  The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  Immediately, I knew I had made a mistake.

  Becoming an explorer had been a childhood dream of mine. The explorers were the ones who traveled through the mysterious gateways—portals that had appeared Centuries ago and brought strange creatures and powers into the world.

  But it was also something my mom hated the idea of.

  And even my usually relaxed dad had strongly discouraged it.

  Dad’s voice dropped.

  “Jacob.”

  His tone wasn’t loud.

  But it carried weight.

  “I have told you before—being an explorer is not something to joke about. Even some of the strongest irregulars in the world refuse to do it because of the dangers involved.”

  I leaned forward.

  “When you guys gave me the talk years ago, you said only irregulars could become explorers and that we weren’t one. Now suddenly I have powers, control, this whole identity…”

  I gestured at the card.

  “What’s the point of having all of this if I never use it?”

  My voice rose slightly.

  Bad move.

  Dad’s expression turned completely stern.

  “That’s enough, Jacob!”

  The sharpness of his voice made me freeze.

  “The situation is not that simple. Yes, you have abilities now. But those abilities come with responsibility.”

  He leaned forward.

  “There is a reason irregulars hide their identities from the public.”

  Then he added something that made my stomach drop.

  “I had the option to have your powers completely sealed until you turned twenty-five.”

  My eyes widened.

  “And don’t think I won’t do it if you continue acting childish.”

  Silence filled the kitchen.

  I stared down at the counter, feeling a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and guilt.

  I hadn’t even considered that possibility.

  Dad had chosen to trust me with all of this… and I had immediately pushed back.

  After a moment, his voice softened.

  “Son… I’m not trying to control you. I want you to have the freedom to discover what being an immortal means.”

  He paused.

  “But you’re not ready for everything yet.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “I’m sorry, Dad… for pushing it. And for raising my voice.”

  He gave a small smile.

  “It’s alright. Honestly, it’s also my fault. I haven’t told you much about what opportunities exist for irregulars.”

  He pushed the folder back toward me.

  “I trust you. So you can keep the ID and your documents.”

  “Store them in the safe in your closet,” he added. “There’s also a hidden compartment inside. This code will open it.”

  He slid a small piece of paper toward me.

  “Keep the irregular documents there so your mother doesn’t find them when she snoops through your room.”

  I looked up.

  “Wait—what? She still snoops through my room?”

  Dad laughed.

  “What do you expect? She’s a concerned mother.”

  Then he continued.

  “I’ll also give you access to a few websites you can log into using your irregular ID. They show possible career paths.”

  “But take your time,” he said firmly. “Don’t jump straight toward the most reckless options.”

  He smirked slightly.

  “And if you still want to become an explorer… I won’t immediately say no.”

  I looked up hopefully.

  “But,” he continued, “you’ll need to make a proper argument. Slideshow. Spreadsheet. Pros and cons. The full presentation.”

  I groaned.

  Dad stood up.

  “Now go upstairs and enjoy your computer while you can.”

  Then he pulled out a massive folder.

  At least ten centimeters thick.

  It had my high school’s name printed across the front.

  My heart sank.

  “When did you even get that?” I asked.

  Dad smiled innocently.

  “You have a lot of homework to catch up on.”

  I sighed.

  Because if I didn’t finish it… my mother would probably demand a “sparring session.”

  Which basically meant she used her morpher powers to beat me up while I wore protective gear.

  Worst part?

  I still had no idea how to dodge her attacks.

  “Thanks for everything, Dad,” I said as I grabbed the folders.

  I went back upstairs and stored the irregular documents carefully inside the hidden compartment of my safe.

  The homework folder landed on my bed.

  But first…

  Gaming.

  I played until around two in the morning before finally collapsing into bed.

  The weekend flew by in a blur of assignments and textbooks. At first, it felt like the work would never end.

  But eventually, by Sunday evening at six o’clock, I finished the last assignment.

  Exhausted, I fell asleep almost immediately.

  For once…

  Without any strange dreams.