I sprawled across my bed, staring at the ceiling while the smell of pad thai and green curry drifted up from downstairs. Diane had ordered enough food to feed an army, which meant she was probably planning to grill me about something later. That woman never did anything without three layers of strategy behind it.

My phone buzzed. Dinner in ten, the text read.

Perfect. Just enough time for a gacha pull.

I pulled up the System interface, the familiar translucent screen materializing in my vision. One silver pull ticket sat there, mocking me with its potential.

"Alright, you digital bastard," I muttered. "Don’t fuck me again. I swear if I get another Dampen situation I’m going to lose my mind."

〘 Silver Gacha Pull available. Proceed? 〙

"Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with."

The animation kicked in, all sparkles and particle effects designed to manipulate my lizard brain into thinking this was worth the anxiety. The card flipped, and instead of the usual single glow, it pulsed with multiple colors before settling on a soft blue-white shimmer.

〘 RARE ITEM ACQUIRED

Faceless Veil

Classification: Equipment

Rarity: Rare

Description: A featureless white mask that adheres symbiotically to the user’s face. Provides complete anonymity through visual obstruction, voice modulation, and cognitive static projection that disrupts information-gathering abilities.

Current Status: Added to inventory. 〙

I sat up so fast my head spun.

A mask. An actual identity-concealing mask with voice modulation and anti-analysis properties.

"No fucking way."

I looked around my room like the mask might materialize on my desk or something. Nothing appeared.

"Uh, System? Where exactly is my mask?"

〘 Item has been placed in host inventory. To equip, mentally command: Equip Faceless Veil. 〙

"I have an inventory? Since when?"

〘 Host has always possessed an inventory system. Previous lack of items made explanation unnecessary. Maximum capacity: 10 items. Current capacity: 1/10. 〙

Of course. The System only told me things when it felt like it. Classic.

I stood up and moved to my mirror, my pulse kicking up with genuine excitement for the first time in days that wasn’t related to Sloane’s body pressed against mine.

"Equip Faceless Veil."

The mask materialized directly on my face, no warning, no transition. One second my reflection showed amber eyes and a scar through my eyebrow. The next, a smooth expanse of bone-white material covered my entire face with no visible seams or openings.

I could see perfectly. The mask was completely transparent from my side but utterly opaque from the outside.

"Holy shit."

Except my voice came out wrong. Deeper. Rougher. Like gravel dragged across concrete and given vocal cords.

I leaned closer to the mirror, examining the featureless surface. No eye holes. No mouth opening. Just blank white that somehow managed to be more unsettling than any screaming monster face could ever be.

"Testing, testing," I said, watching my reflection. My jaw moved beneath the mask but nothing showed on the surface. The modulated voice came out smooth and authoritative, like someone who had absolute confidence in their ability to break you in half.

I couldn’t help myself. I deepened my voice further, letting it rumble in my chest.

"I’m Batman."

The voice that came out was perfect. Gravelly and intimidating and absolutely ridiculous coming from a seventeen-year-old kid in jeans and a hoodie.

I burst out laughing, which sounded terrifying through the voice modulation. Like some serial killer had just heard a really good joke.

"No fucking way!" The Batman voice made it even funnier. I sounded like I was about to interrogate the Joker while simultaneously trying not to crack up.

I yanked the mask off with a mental command, and it dissolved back into my inventory like it had never existed. My normal face stared back at me from the mirror, still grinning like an idiot.

I flopped back onto my bed, mind already racing with possibilities.

A mask that made me completely unrecognizable. Voice modulation so I could sound like anyone—or no one in particular. Cognitive static that would fuck with anyone trying to analyze or identify me.

I could become a vigilante. Sneak out at night, use my Spectral Reach and Blitz to stop crimes without anyone connecting it back to Lukas Belmont, the newly registered Channeler with the dead Hero parents. The IHL would never know. Halloran would never know. I could build a reputation completely separate from my official identity.

Or hell, I could go villain. Not seriously, but like, rob a bank for the thrill of it. Test my skills against real Heroes without risking my registration status. The Faceless Veil would make me a ghost—no paper trail, no Aspect signature that matched my official registration, nothing.

Secret operations sounded even better. I could do the kind of work that official Heroes couldn’t touch. Black ops shit. Morally gray situations where having no identity actually helped.

"This is fucking badass," I said to my ceiling.

〘 Faceless Veil synergizes effectively with False Data passive trait. Combined usage creates near-total information blackout. Recommended for activities requiring complete anonymity. 〙

"Yeah, no shit."

My door swung open without warning.

I didn’t even have time to react before Sloane walked in, kicked the door shut behind her, and crossed the room in three strides. She climbed onto my bed and straddled my waist, pinning my wrists above my head with surprising strength.

Her pink hair fell around her face in a messy curtain, and those blue eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my mouth go dry. She wore shorts that showed off her thick thighs and a tank top that did absolutely nothing to hide her sports bra underneath.

"Start talking," she said.

"About what?" My voice came out rougher than intended. Having Sloane sitting on top of me was doing things to my concentration that the Oracle Feed was probably having a field day analyzing. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"About why your ability changed classification today." She leaned down, her face inches from mine. I could smell her shampoo—something floral and clean. "Force Manipulation instead of basic telekinesis. My mom looked way too smug about that change, like she knew something I didn’t."

Her hips shifted slightly, and I had to physically restrain myself from reacting.

"Diane thought it would give me more flexibility," I managed. "Force Manipulation is a broader classification. Means if my Aspect develops in weird directions, there’s already a framework for it."

"Bullshit." Sloane’s grip on my wrists tightened. "I watched you demo your Aspect three times yesterday. You moved things with your mind. Today suddenly it’s Force Manipulation, which could mean anything from telekinesis to enhanced strength to kinetic blasts. What are you hiding?"