Accidental Discovery Jewel’s POV I stood in the middle of the living room with my phone pressed against my ear as I watched the rain slam aggressively against the glass walls like it was trying to force its way inside. It was our third wedding anniversary, and I couldn’t imagine why Adrian still wasn’t home. It was already past midnight. I had called Adrian countless times, but he never answered or returned my texts. His assistant and best friend, Vanessa, was no better. Maybe something important had come up at work. Maybe their phones were on silent. My eyes drifted toward the dining table. The food was cold. The roses were beginning to wilt. And the cake I had ordered hours earlier sat untouched, with the tiny silver number three candle still standing proudly on top of it. Something about the sight made my chest ache. I had taken my time setting up the dining room for a private dinner for two. I had also decorated our bedroom with roses and scented candles, hoping it would spark something in him tonight. Things had been cold between us since his father died two months ago, and I had been hoping tonight would change that, but now I wasn’t so sure. I quickly pushed the thought aside. Worried out of my mind, I eventually dozed off on the couch facing the door while waiting for him. I wasn’t sure how long I had slept, but I jerked awake at the sound of tyres outside. Adrian was home. Immediately, I glanced at the wall clock. 3 a.m. I quickly sat up from the couch, wincing slightly at the stiffness in my neck from sleeping awkwardly. The sound of Adrian’s voice outside made me pause. Was he on the phone? I wondered briefly, but I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I debated whether to get up and welcome him or pretend to be still asleep so he would feel guilty for keeping me waiting and wake me up affectionately. The second option sounded far more appealing. A silly smile curved my lips as I quickly lay back down, adjusting my black silk dress in a way that revealed more of my legs and exposed just enough cleavage. I had spent nearly three hours getting ready for him earlier that evening. Even though dinner might have been ruined by the late hour, I still wanted to rekindle our passion in bed. The moment the door opened, I shut my eyes and waited. But what I heard next made me freeze. A feminine giggle. Followed by a low groan. The kind of sound Adrian made when he was kissing me. My breath caught in my throat. What was going on? Unable to help myself, I peeped through my lashes. My stomach tightened instantly when I saw Adrian kissing another woman against the door. My brain refused to process it at first. Nothing about the scene made sense. Adrian would never cheat on me, especially not in our house or on our anniversary. While my mind struggled to process it, I could clearly see that the man I had spent the entire evening waiting for had his hand tangled in the woman’s hair while hers clawed desperately at his shoulders. The same man who had barely touched me for weeks, claiming he wasn’t in the mood for intimacy because he was still too broken by his father’s death. I shut my eyes immediately again, willing myself to unsee what I had just witnessed. My heart raced violently as I struggled to keep my breathing even. “Ad…” a familiar voice whispered suddenly, followed by Adrian muttering a curse beneath his breath. Ad? My heart skipped a beat. “Why is she out here?” Adrian muttered irritably. Only one woman called Adrian that. Vanessa Taylor. Adrian’s best friend and assistant, whom he had introduced to me before we got married and who had now become like a sister to me. I wanted to stand up and confront them. I wanted to scream and ask them what the hell was going on. But I couldn’t. My heart was beating too fast, and my knees were too weak. And maybe worst of all… I was terrified of hearing the truth out loud. So I kept my eyes shut and put every acting lesson I had learned in theatre class to use. “What do we do?” Vanessa whispered nervously. “We can ignore her. You know she’s a deep sleeper,” Adrian said nonchalantly. “Or we can wake her up.” “Are you out of your mind?” Vanessa hissed. “How do you plan to explain my being here right now?” “I don’t have to explain anything. I don’t care what she thinks—” “Adrian!” she snapped before lowering her voice again. “I know you’re very angry about your father’s will, but you can’t ruin everything now by being careless.” My heart skipped another beat. What was Vanessa talking about? Had the will already been read? What did she mean about Adrian not ruining everything? Questions flooded my mind rapidly, but I forced myself to focus on what was being said. “You know what?” Vanessa said after a tense silence. “Let me handle this.” A minute later, I felt a tap on my arm. “Honey?” Vanessa called softly. It took all my willpower not to withdraw from her touch. Instead, I pretended to turn in my sleep to give myself a moment to brace myself. I didn’t want to open teary eyes. I wanted to be able to look at them both and smile normally, pretending I hadn’t just witnessed any of that. “Jewel darling?” Vanessa called again, tapping my arm lightly. I pretended to mumble something unintelligible and adjusted my head so Vanessa wouldn’t see my face properly. Vanessa giggled. “She really is a deep sleeper.” “Told you,” Adrian replied nonchalantly. “Now come on. Let’s go to your bedroom and ignore her.” Her bedroom? Was that what they called the guest room Vanessa usually occupied whenever she slept over? Was this what they did every single time she stayed over? A sharp pain pierced through my chest. “Aw,” Vanessa cooed. “The silly girl set up a romantic dinner for two. She’s even wearing something sexy.” My eyes stung painfully with tears, but I kept them tightly shut, unwilling to reveal that I was awake. Nothing would be more humiliating than their realising I had heard everything. “Wake her up, Ad,” Vanessa suggested. “If I do, I won’t be able to spend the night with you,” Adrian pointed out. “You can sneak into my bedroom as usual after she falls asleep again. Or just tell her we’ll be working late together like always.” My heart clenched painfully. Like always. How many times had they lied to me? “Hurry up. Wake her with a kiss or carry her upstairs.” Adrian let out a long breath before tapping me gently. “Babe?” My chest tightened like a giant fist was crushing my heart. He kissed my cheek softly. “I’m so sorry I’m late, baby. I got caught up in a meeting with some investors,” he murmured, kissing my face again. Finally, I opened my eyes slowly. “Babe?” I asked with a false sleepy smile as I sat up before deliberately shifting my gaze toward Vanessa. “Nessa? You’re here?” “Surprise!” Vanessa chirped with an awkward laugh. “Ad dragged me along from the meeting. He insisted I come apologise to you on his behalf.” She pouted playfully. “We’re so sorry we got caught up with work, and he couldn’t make it back home in time.” In the past, I would have laughed and thought Vanessa was the best thing to happen to our marriage. Now I knew better. I forced a smile as I picked up my phone and rose from the couch. Immediately, my knees buckled slightly beneath me. Adrian caught my arm at once, steadying me. “Thanks,” I whispered with a forced smile as I stepped away from him. “I was worried about you. Since you’re home now, I’ll just head upstairs. I’m exhausted,” I said, feigning a yawn. “Sure,” Adrian replied. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” I started toward the staircase, then paused deliberately as a thought occurred to me. “I’ll check the guest room first to ensure everything is okay before I go upstairs,” I said casually. “Oh, Jewel, you don’t have to worry about that,” Vanessa protested quickly. “This is practically my home, too. I can handle it.” “I’m the woman of the house,” I replied with a forced smile. “No matter how close you are to Adrian, you’re still a guest here. I’ll prepare your bed.” Vanessa’s smile faltered briefly before she recovered. “If you insist,” she said lightly. “Have it your way.” Without another word, I walked away. My heart raced as I entered the guest room. I shut the door quietly behind me, then let out a deep breath. Without wasting any time, I put my phone on aeroplane mode, opened the voice recorder app, and carefully slid it beneath the bed after turning it on. Though I was hurt and deeply shattered inside, I needed to understand exactly what was happening between them before deciding what to do next. Then, I left the room and headed upstairs to our bedroom.

Chapter 1: 1 | The Scumbag System Doesn't Care About Your Hangover

The Scumbag’s Guide To Heroism The first thing that should have told me this wasn't my room was the curtains. I didn't have the luxury to ever have curtains of any kind in my room it was half torn up window blinds or nothing most of the time. The second thing is that this bed was far too big to be my full sized bed. It was King sized at least with comfortable sheets and a mattress that felt like it should be illegal to get out of. "What the…" I mumbled, pushing up to my elbows and yawning as I tried to chase away the last bit of sleepiness. The room came into focus slowly, there were cream walls with minimalist furniture and a desk with a sick gaming setup tucked neatly into the corner. This was not my room, not even close. I patted around for my phone but couldn't find it anywhere. Damn, had I gone drinking last night or something? My brain scrambled for any semblance of memory but it was all just a fuzzy static. Ding. A notification sounded from somewhere but with my skull currently feeling like it just got split open it was pretty low on my priority list. "Water," I croaked while swinging my legs off the bed, My feet hit plush carpet instead of the chicken scratch carpet I was used to. I stood up shakily, nearly tripping at the unfamiliarity of my long legs. Why was I so tall? The door felt like it was a million miles away as I shuffled to it. I grabbed the handle and pulled it open to reveal a hallway that looked like it belonged on Architectural Digest. There were hardwood floors that gleamed under the recessed lighting with paintings that hung the walls and sculptures that filled up the empty void. Some of them looked like superheroes wearing capes. Huh, must be big Marvel fans. Another door stood slightly ajar down the hall and I went towards it. Hopefully the bathroom is here. I opened the door and the bedroom was thankfully unoccupied but obviously belonged to a girl. The walls were a soft purple and there was a vanity with makeup scattered across it. Posters of what I could only describe as a KPOP group who had a super hero aesthetic filled the walls as well. "Okay, wrong room. Wait… a girls room?" I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Yeah, it was still a girl's room. "Holy shit," I whispered. "Did I end up at a sorority house? Did I actually lose my virginity my first semester?" I grinned despite the headache. "Fucking champion move! But why can't I remember any of it?" The next door revealed what looked like an office. Expensive furniture, shelves of books, framed certificates on the walls. I closed it quickly. Door number three: a linen closet packed with towels. Fourth door: finally, a bathroom. Massive, marble-countered, with a shower that could fit five people. I staggered to the sink, twisted the fancy faucet, and splashed cold water on my face repeatedly. The shock of it helped clear my head a little. I took a deep breath and looked up at the mirror. A stranger stared back at me. "WHAT THE HELL?!" I clapped a hand over my mouth before slowly lowering it, watching the reflection do the exact same thing. The face in the mirror looked nothing like the me I remembered. This guy was tall and skinny with sharp cheek bones and dirty blonde hair. Amber eyes—who the hell has amber eyes?—stared back at me, wide with shock. "Who the fuck are you?" I whispered, watching the stranger's lips move in perfect sync. I touched my face and the skin felt real underneath my fingertips. I pulled at my cheeks and stuck out my tongue watching the mirror do the exact same movements. "This is a dream," I decided. "A very weird, detailed dream. I'm going to wake up in my dorm room with a hangover any second now." Ding. That notification again. This time, something flashed across my vision like a heads-up display in a video game. Text floated in the air: [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Welcome, Host. System initialization complete.] I blinked hard, but the text remained. [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Memory integration beginning. Please stand by.] "What the actual—" My head felt like it was exploding with the influx of information entering my brain. Names, places, years of memories that I now currently have ownership of in someway. I was the ward of Diane Fitzgerald and the unmarked son of dead heroes. I was Lukas Belmont. I gripped the counter as the bathroom spun around me with these foreign memories flooded my brain. He was in a city called Verano aspiring for a school named Halloran Academy. The society was filled with people that had superpowers called Aspects that were registered with something called the IHL. And there was me, Lukas Belmont who had no powers at all. "Holy shit this can not be happening," I whispered, but even as the words slipped out of my mouth I knew it was real. Somehow, I had woken up in someone else's body, in a world where superheroes were real and licensed and ranked. [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Memory integration complete. Host identity: Lukas Belmont. Status: Unmarked. Current mission: None.] "Mission? What mission?" [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Mission queue empty. Processing...] The text hovered for a moment, then changed: [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: New Main Quest unavailable.] "Alright then." I looked back in the mirror to see the stranger, well, myself now. Lukas wasn't bad looking at all he just looked tired. Those amber eyes of his carry so much weight and now they carried mine too. I splashed some more water on my face and then grabbed the softest hand towel I'd ever had to dry off. Okay, time to get my bearings and figure out who Lukas Belmont truly was. I headed back to what I now understood was Lukas's bedroom, my bare feet silent on the hardwood. As I walked, another notification pinged: [ORACLE FEED ACTIVATED] [Current threat assessment: None] [Local points of interest: Kitchen (occupied) - Sloane Fitzgerald present] Text appeared in my peripheral vision, listing information about the house layout and current occupants. Apparently, part of this "system" was an awareness feed that told me where people were and what they were doing. "That's not creepy at all," I muttered, pushing open the door to Lukas's room. Inside, I found the closet and pulled it open. Rows of clothes hung neatly—expensive-looking but understated. I grabbed jeans and a dark hoodie, both of which fit perfectly. Of course they did. This was supposedly my body now. As I dressed, I caught sight of a photo on the nightstand. A man and woman in colorful uniforms smiling proudly at the camera. Lukas's parents. Damn, this kid had lost his parents and now it seems like I took over his life. That's rough buddy. I picked up the photo to study the faces of Varen and Reina Belmont. Heroes who died saving civilians. "I'm sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was apologizing to them or to Lukas himself. I set the photo down and headed for the door. Time to face whatever this world had in store for me. As I stepped into the hallway, another notification flashed: [ORACLE FEED UPDATE] [Subject: Sloane Fitzgerald] [Location: Kitchen] [Status: Irritated] [Temptation Gauge: 22%] "Temptation gauge?" I whispered. "What the hell is a—" [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: The Temptation Gauge measures a woman's attraction level to the host. Current subject: Sloane Fitzgerald. Current level: Curious (22%)] I stopped dead in the hallway. "You're telling me this system tracks how much women want to sleep with me?" [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Affirmative. Temptation Gauges generate System Points when increased. System Points purchase Gacha pulls. Gacha pulls award abilities.] "So, a dating sim's reward loop bolted onto a gacha mechanic," I said to the empty hall. "All set in a superhero world where main only path to power is getting women hot enough to fund my slot machine pulls. Fantastic." [SCUMBAG SYSTEM: Correction: The system awards real abilities through the Gacha. Abilities are not detectable by conventional Aspect scans.]

chapter 1
I wear a plastic ring on my left ring finger.
It isn’t made of alloy or inlaid with resin. It’s the cheapest kind imaginable—the sort of five-credit trinket you find in the toy section of an interstellar department store, a simple plastic band printed with a pale blue "Forever." I’ve worn it for three years. The lettering has long since faded from the warmth of my skin, leaving behind nothing but a blurred, cloudy-white smudge against my finger.
This is my wedding ring.
Three years ago, on a sidewalk cafe on Arcadis Prime’s twelfth Sky Island, Corvin Hale dropped to one knee and slid this plastic circle onto my finger.
"Gila, I don't have the money yet," he told me then. "But I promise you... The day Hale Tech can afford its own headquarters, I’ll replace this with the real thing. A ring worthy of you."
I nodded.
Only three days prior, I had collected my parents' death notices from the Federal Military. I was holding a valor pension large enough to make anyone’s eyes turn green—a fortune that could have bought an entire floor of an apartment complex on Capitol Prime’s first Sky Island.
I didn't keep a credit of it for myself.
Instead, I pushed the pension certificate and the account keys across the table to him. "Use this to start the business," I said. "The ring can wait."
Three years have passed.
Hale Tech moved from a cramped, rented garage in the Arcadis Prime suburbs to the thirty-seventh floor of the Mechspire Tower on the ninth Sky Island. Corvin traded his second-hand Jump glider for a custom Albert-IV Stellar-Class Luxury Cruiser. His name now sits at the top of the Federal Finance "Under 35" list for the synthetic intelligence industry.
Yet, on my left ring finger, there is still only that five-credit plastic band.
Every time I pass the display windows in the Arcadis Prime jewelry district, every time I see other couples exchanging bands on their anniversaries, and every time someone at a Hale Tech press conference asks with a smile, "Mrs. Hale, which master craftsman designed your wedding ring?"... I quietly tuck my left hand into the sleeve of my uniform.
I only ever asked him for a ring once.
But that ring ended up on someone else’s hand.
I walked into Corvin’s office carrying the latest project data for the "Ghost Swarm" drone initiative—a fourth-generation algorithm I’d spent seventy-two standard hours perfecting.
The door was slightly ajar.
A scent hit me immediately: synthetic rose pheromones... Lumen No. 7. It was the most cliché fragrance among the socialites of Arcadis Prime. Corvin had told me himself how much he loathed it.
But the moment I pushed the door open, I saw my husband holding a woman’s hand, sliding a ring onto her finger.
That ring.
It wasn't some mass-produced piece from a Federal mall. It was the ring my mother had left behind—the only thing I had ever asked Corvin for. My mother had worn it for twenty-seven years. Then, eight years ago, on the night the power failed in the Zeta Sector underground shelters, she slipped it off her finger and traded it to a black-market medical trader for a shipment of anti-radiation injections. Because of that trade, fifty orphans survived.
Two weeks ago, it resurfaced in the Federal Antiquities spring auction catalog, listed as a "Civilian Memento from the Zeta Sector War."
The starting bid was eight million credits.
I had shown Corvin the catalog and, for the first time, asked him for something: "Buy it."
He said he would.
And now, here he was, sliding it onto Serena Frost’s left hand.
Lyle Vance was standing by the desk. When he saw me come in, he let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Staring that hard at a ring? I always said orphans have no class. So easily dazzled."
I ignored him. I lunged forward, reaching out to tear the ring off Serena's finger.
Corvin caught my wrist, pinning it back.
"Gila." His voice dropped an octave. "I’ve already given the ring to Serena."
"You promised you were buying it for me."
"Don’t make a scene," he said, frowning. "It’s a gift to celebrate her promotion to Vice-Captain of the Cloudliner."
A scene.
I looked at him. "Corvin," I said, my voice unnervingly calm. "You know exactly what that ring means to me."
"It’s just a ring," he replied.
...Just a ring.
I let out a short laugh. Looking down at my own left hand, I caught the dull, cheap reflection of the five-credit plastic band under the office lights.
Apparently, he’d known the phrase "it’s just a ring" for three years; he just hadn't found the heart to say it back then.
Three years ago, he told me he'd replace the plastic with something real.
Three years later, he took the real ring he'd promised me—my mother's ring—and put it on another woman's hand.