A long, steaming shower chased away the last traces of sleep. When I finally stepped out, the mirror was fogged over, leaving my reflection vague and undefined. Maybe that was fitting. I slipped into the new outfit I’d ordered the last night: relaxed brown pants that felt as comfortable as they looked, a blue checkered shirt, and a leather jacket that brought the whole ensemble together. The oversized fit suited me. Comfortable. Practical. Effortlessly cool—light-years ahead of the stiff, self-conscious wardrobe I used to cling to. Dressed like this, I felt more myself than I had in ages.
It was a strange, subtle thing—how clothes could shift something inside you.
Once ready, I grabbed my bag, left the hotel, and made my way toward the academy. Today’s schedule was straightforward enough: two lectures, then self-defense training. Manageable.
The morning halls were quieter than usual, their emptiness amplifying the soft echo of my footsteps. No rush. Since my first lecture was Physics and I had time to spare, I stopped at a small café along the way. A warm pastry and a cup of coffee in hand, I strolled toward the classroom, taking my time. It was the calmness brought to me by the ages of experience. When I reached the lecture hall, my fingers curled around the door handle and as I pushed, old habits kicked in. I scanned the room before stepping inside. It was a instinct, nothing more—but then my gaze caught on something. No, someone. My enemy. Damn it, no. Just my classmate.
But damn it, she always managed to feel like a thorn in my side.
And because the universe clearly hated me, she was sitting right in my line of sight, looking like she'd walked straight out of some fashion magazine's "Casual But Could Kill You" spread. Her hair had somehow transformed overnight from straight to these perfect curls that defied both gravity and logic. Red sneakers, brown pants, frilly white top peaking out, and red oversized sweater—who gave her the right to coordinate colors like that? And those bracelets catching the light just so...
I wasn't staring. Definitely wasn't cataloging every detail of her appearance like some creepy—
But then, as if she could sense my gaze—or maybe she just caught the creak of the door—her eyes flicked up and met mine. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. Then, as if on instinct, I averted my eyes so quickly it probably looked suspicious. What was wrong with me? Why had I looked away so fast? It wasn’t like me to get thrown off so easily, but her presence always seemed to knock me off balance in ways I couldn’t quite explain. I stood there, rooted to the spot, confusion swirling in my mind like a storm. Why had I noticed so many details? The bracelets? The way the red cardigan complemented the blue top? The hair?
No way. Absolutely not. I forced a slow breath, clenching my jaw as I shoved the ridiculous thought away. I am not catching feelings.
Gasp.
No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be right.
That wasn’t me.
I was—
I was a PDF?
Gasp!
NO!
My brain, already running on coffee and panic, short-circuited with the efficiency of a 404 error.
I was an old soul—rational, grounded, perfectly aware of both my physical and mental needs. I kept them in check. Always.
So, was this some kind of residual damage from yesterday’s fight? Some weird aftershock scrambling my brain? Or worse—could her powers extend to charm or attraction? No. That didn’t seem like her meta nature. I shook the thought off, moving swiftly toward an empty seat in the back as the lecture, briefly interrupted by my entrance, resumed. Just as I reached a chair and started to sit, it happened. A split second of wrongness. My foot slipped. A sharp, sickening crack. The chair gave out beneath me, sending me sprawling onto the cold, unforgiving floor. The impact rattled up my spine, loud enough to make my ears ring. For a heartbeat, silence hung in the room like a held breath.
Dammit.
Which motherf—
I winced, already scanning the room, instincts flaring, searching for the culprit.
But oddly enough, no one was reacting. No snickers, no suppressed laughter, no exchanged glances—just a room full of students keeping their heads politely forward, as if nothing had happened. Even the professor barely spared me a glance before sighing, their expression an unimpressed mix of exhaustion and apathy.
"Just sit on another chair," they muttered, already moving on.
I narrowed my eyes.
That was too smooth. Too convenient.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught it—a flicker of movement, the ghost of a smirk that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
Jade.
The enemy.
The arrogant dragon, watching from her seat with an air of infuriating innocence.
Suppressing my irritation, I grabbed another chair and settled into it. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to steady my breath. Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe the chair really was just old and broken. Right. The professor's voice droned on, but I might as well have been underwater for all I was absorbing. My mood had been wrecked. I leaned back, desperate to shake off whatever this was. Getting emotional wasn't my style—I was supposed to be the calculating one, the guy who kept his cool. Then again, this wasn't like my previous cycles. No constant fight for survival, no pushing myself until I broke. Maybe having actual downtime was the problem. Too much space in my head for... feelings. Ugh!
That's it! Just some weird chemical thing happening in my brain. Perfectly normal, totally explainable. Nothing to do with curly hair or coordinated outfits or—
God help me, I thought.
When did I become such a mess?
By the time self-defense class rolled around, my brain had finally shut up about the morning's existential crisis. And I even remembered to pack actual gym clothes this time, so there's that. The gym was its usual noisy self when I walked in—sneakers squeaking, people chattering, the works. But my eyes went straight to the human storm cloud standing in the corner. Jade. She wasn't exactly spoiled for choice when it came to sparring partners. Then again, neither was I. After our last match turned into something out of a cage fight highlight reel, most people gave us both a wide berth. The memory of blood on the mat probably didn't help. Not that I cared—making friends wasn't exactly on my agenda for this class.
"If anyone causes a bloody scene in my gym today," Mr. Clemen boomed out of nowhere, "I'm personally kicking their ass out."
The warning might as well have had our names stamped on it in red ink. Most students didn’t turn sparring into all-out brawls, complete with bloody noses and broken ribs. Jade and I, on the other hand? We had gained a reputation in just one fight. But I'd already decided how this was going down. But, If she so much as breathed on me wrong, I was going full hair-pulling, eye-gouging chaos mode. If she wanted to play dirty, I could get down in the mud too.
I kept telling myself to look away, to focus on warming up or literally anything else, but my gaze kept drifting back to her. I caught that signature look of annoyance, like the entire world had personally inconvenienced her. Something about it only fueled my determination. This isn’t going to be easy…
"If you're done being a creep, maybe we can actually get some practice in," Jade snapped, rolling her eyes with practiced disdain.
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
The girl definitely had a few screws loose. But this time, I wasn't here to escalate. If we could just clear the air, maybe we could sort out whatever this strange tension was between us. Though looking at her stance—coiled tight like a spring ready to snap—I was starting to doubt my diplomatic approach.
"Look," I said, keeping my voice soft, "We both know there's something going on here. Something neither of us understands." I took a deliberate step forward, testing the waters. "And throwing punches isn't going to solve it."
Her shoulders tensed at my approach. "There's nothing to understand," she said, but her voice wavered slightly. For someone who tried so hard to be mysterious, she was surprisingly bad at hiding her emotions.
"Really?" I pushed, "Then why does everyone else in this room fade to background noise when we're near each other?" I paused, letting that sink in. "And don't pretend you don't feel it too."
Jade's jaw clenched, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. "You don't know what you're talking about," she muttered.
I sighed, realizing this conversation was going nowhere fast. "Fine, deny it all you want. But the fact is, no one else in this class wants to partner with you. So, you can either work with me and try to figure this out, or you can go back to being the class pariah."
It was a low blow, but I needed to get through to her somehow. To my surprise, my words seemed to land harder than I expected. Something flickered across Jade's face—a mix of surprise and indignation—before she locked it away behind that mask of hers. For a moment, I thought she was going to snap. Her arms came up, stance shifting like she was ready to strike, and I braced myself. Here we go again. Time for another trip to the nurse's office.
But when her punches came, they were... soft. More like shoves than actual hits. They didn't hurt. Not even a little.
Had I struck a nerve?
Then I heard it—a sound so faint it almost didn't register. A high-pitched, pitiful squeak, like a mosquito buzzing in my ear. It took me a second to realize the sound was coming from her.
"Fine!" she burst out.
"What?" I blinked, gesturing for her to repeat herself, convinced I'd misheard. Was this some kind of trick? Another one of her mind games?
"I said I was wrong! I'm sorry!"
Wait, what? Her voice was sharper this time, but her expression wavered, and I noticed her eyes looked faintly red. Was it from frustration? Embarrassment? Or had my words actually cut deeper than I’d intended? I was genuinely speechless. Who would’ve thought that Miss London, of all people, had a tough exterior but a surprisingly soft heart?
It was almost funny, in a grimly ironic way. Jade’s behavior felt like it had been pulled straight from a cliché, the archetype of the “tough girl with a hidden soft side.” Why was this the template for so many stories? These so-called “authors” needed to find some creativity in their writing instead of leaning on tired tropes. The transition from ice queen to tearful wreck was such an overdone, predictable cliché.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I surveyed her face, trying to feel… something. Sympathy, perhaps? But there was nothing—or maybe I was actively refusing to feel it, unwilling to be swayed by her sudden emotions. To be honest, I couldn’t even tell which was true anymore.
"Tell me exactly what you feel," I heard myself say, my voice surprisingly soft. "Just... be honest with me."
I should've seen it coming. One second I was standing there, the next I was gasping for air as Jade locked me in a chokehold. She had me pinned, her legs wrapped around my waist in a classic submission hold. Amateur mistake—I'd let my guard down again.
"I can't... I can't explain it properly," she muttered, frustrated. Her grip tightened slightly, but not enough to hurt, "It's like... there's this strange pull, like… like you're a magnet or something." She let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "God, that sounds so stupid when I say it out loud."
"It's not stupid," I said quietly, my voice muffled slightly by her arm. "I feel it too."
Jade's grip loosened slightly, and I could sense her surprise. "You do?"
I nodded, taking advantage of her momentary distraction to flip our positions. Now it was me holding her in a chokehold.
"For me, it's almost the same," my eyes turned unfocused as I thought.
Jade was silent for a moment, and I could feel the tension in her muscles.
"Does it—" I hesitated, struggling to put something so inexplicable into words. My hold on her loosened unconsciously as I focused on speaking. "When we're this close, does it feel... more intense for you too?"
Jade stiffened, and for a second, I thought she wouldn’t answer. “Yeah.” she muttered, like the admission was being dragged out of her. "It's like... I don't know how to explain it. Gets worse—gets stronger when..." She trailed off, frustrated.
Suddenly, a thought struck me: was that why she kept trying to choke me? Whatever it was, it was making her get as close as possible to me, maybe in some subconscious attempt to resolve whatever this was? My breathing almost stopped as this thought crystallized in my head.
"We need to figure out what's causing this. Maybe if we—"
The moment the words left my mouth, she twisted out of my grip, faster than I expected. I let her go, more out of curiosity than anything else. She scrambled back, putting space between us.
“Before we do anything, we need to set boundaries.”
I frowned. “Boundaries?”
“Yes. Because whatever this is, it’s already messing with me. And I don’t like it.”
I exhaled. “Alright. What kind of boundaries?”
Jade pursed her lips, glancing away for a second. “First… no getting close unless we have to.” She took a breath. “It—it's worse when you're near. I feel it more, and I don’t know how to handle it. So we keep our distance.”
That wasn’t ideal. If proximity made it stronger, then getting closer might be the fastest way to—
“Don’t argue.” She caught my expression before I even spoke. “I’m serious. I need space. I need to feel like I can still think straight without this… thing fogging up my head.”
I hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Fine. No unnecessary closeness. What else?”
She shifted, clearly uncomfortable, then muttered, “No… using it against each other.”
That made me raise an eyebrow. “Against each other?”
She gestured vaguely. “No testing limits just to see how far it goes. No trying to use it to pin each other down or—or win some kind of fight. No weird power plays.”
"That's... fair," I said, raising my hand in a calming gesture. If setting boundaries made her comfortable enough to work through this with me, I could live with that. Whatever was happening between us wasn't just some random attraction or coincidence—it felt bigger, almost metaphysical.
Could this be related to time travel? The thought crept in before I could stop it. Ridiculous, maybe, but once the idea took hold, I couldn't shake it.
I studied her face for a moment, then decided to take a risk. "What's your meta nature?" The question came out softer than I intended.
Jade stiffened, her silence stretching between us like a physical thing. Fine. If she needed someone to go first...
"I can see things," I said quietly, the admission feeling strange on my tongue. "Not just physical things—luck, danger, whatever's hiding in the background. It's all there, like... patterns most people miss." I rarely shared this with anyone, but desperate times and all that.
She still hesitated, and I felt my frustration building. It's not like meta natures could be stolen—the secrecy felt pointless.
Finally, Jade's shoulders dropped slightly. "Randomness," she said, "Probability, improbability, possibility... I can manipulate them all. To an extent."
I blinked, her words crashing over me. “Lord, aren’t you a bit too overpowered for this school?” I blurted out before I could stop myself, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.
Abilities like hers were the stuff of legends—terrifying in their subtlety. No wonder she kept it under wraps. A power like that would draw the wrong kind of attention, make people see her as a threat rather than a person.
Then something clicked. A few dots connected in my mind, and before I could say anything, Jade’s lips curved into a small, fleeting smile. Not amusement. Not defiance. Something closer to satisfaction. She tried to hide it, but I caught it. And just like that, the pieces started falling into place.
This woman…
I lifted a finger, about to speak, but the words got stuck somewhere between realization and frustration. Instead, I exhaled, shaking my head, still waiting for the apology I knew would never come.
Instead, a more disturbing thought crept in: how many times had she used her abilities without anyone catching on? This wasn't the kind of power that announced itself with explosions or flashy displays. It was insidious, subtle—the type you'd never notice until it was too late. Every stroke of "luck," every fortunate coincidence...
"Jade," I said finally, my voice sharp with realization, "how often do you... influence things?"
She exhaled, still trying to suppress the redness that had crawled up her neck unknowingly. She then gave a small shrug.
“…Define ‘often.’”
I closed my eyes, inhaled through my nose, and reminded myself that strangling her probably wouldn’t help the situation. So I chose to drop the matter entirely for now.
But something told me that wasn’t the full extent of her abilities. Her evasive expression hinted at more than she wasn’t revealing. My eyes widened as it hit me just how dangerous she could be. If she ever lost control or pushed her powers to the limit, who could stop her? Thankfully, she was still inexperienced, likely unaware of the true reach of her meta nature. Maybe she had yet to unlock certain abilities or still faced limitations she wasn’t disclosing.
The thought sparked something in my mind—a deeper understanding of meta nature itself. You couldn't learn its true nature from lectures or textbooks. Even the most prestigious academies only scratched the surface, leaving the deeper truths veiled in mystery. These weren't theories you studied—they were secrets you stumbled upon, often by accident or what people mistook for luck.
Meta nature wasn’t just a skill or a power—it was a fusion of the Unknown and the deepest recesses of a person’s subconscious desires and obsessions. This fusion made it intensely personal, its shape and function as unique as the person wielding it. It didn’t follow logic; it followed the whispers of the soul.
Think of meta nature like a coin with two sides. One side belonged to the Unknown: chaotic, raw, and utterly unpredictable. The other side belonged to human nature, the stabilizing force that gave structure and restraint. This delicate balance created two facets within every meta nature—a primary and a secondary aspect.
The primary power was a gift—or a curse—from the Unknown. It held immense potential, but it was dangerous, even destructive. The secondary power, on the other hand, was an anchor, shaped by human nature to provide balance. Without it, a person’s mind—and even their soul—could be overwhelmed by the chaos of their primary ability. For example, the Unknown might grant someone the power to generate fire hot enough to burn through steel, but human nature would counteract it by making their body immune to burns. This duality wasn’t just a quirk; it was a safeguard, a way to ensure a person’s powers didn’t consume them entirely.
Human nature was the tether that kept us grounded. It allowed us to wield immense power without becoming monstrous or grotesque, preserving the very essence of who we were. This delicate balance ensured we could use our powers without losing ourselves to them.
Many of the higher-ups in society regarded meta as a kind of affliction—an infection that had latched itself onto humanity. They didn’t see our abilities as natural gifts but as invasive disruptions that our minds and bodies struggled to reconcile. In their view, “human nature” was the subconscious defense mechanism, stepping in to stabilize these powers before they overwhelmed us completely, ensuring we didn’t spiral into self-destruction.
It was an adaptation, ensuring that the chaos meta brought didn’t destroy us outright.
Similarly, I had come to understand that observing Likeness was my human nature’s way of coping with my meta side, though the deeper nuances of my abilities still eluded me somewhat. I had theories—plenty of them—but they were all half-formed, like pieces of a puzzle I couldn’t quite fit together yet.
I glanced at Jade, who just stood there watching me, waiting. The silence was getting awkward.
“I think, It might have something to do with our meta nature,” I said finally, my voice low but deliberate. “Every time probability shifts, it creates small instances of luck to steer events. And since my meta nature is heavily tied to luck, maybe it’s creating a kind of resonance between us.”
I paused, watching her closely for any reaction—confirmation, skepticism, anything.
Jade remained motionless, her silence unnerving. Around us, a few curious students threw glances in our direction, as if expecting us to clash again, like last time. They were going to be disappointed.
Finally, she let out a breath. "You might be onto something," she admitted. "I mean, I've never heard of meta-natures doing... whatever this is. But it's somewhere to start, at least. Maybe we can use this theory as a base and experiment to figure things out.”
I couldn't help but notice how quickly she'd shifted gears—from trying to choke me out to standing here calmly discussing theories. Talk about whiplash.
"We could meet after classes," I said, trying to sound casual. "You know, figure this thing out properly."
Jade took her time answering, like she was weighing all the possible ways this could go wrong. Finally, she gave a tiny nod. Not exactly enthusiasm, but I'd take it. “Ground rules still stand.”
“Right. No unnecessary closeness, no manipulating each other, and no jokes at your expense.”
Her lips pressed together, but I caught the quick flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “I don’t remember saying the last one.”
“I figured it was implied.”
Jade rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
"Well, this is refreshing."
I nearly jumped out of my skin at Mr. Clemen's voice right behind us. How does a guy that big move so quietly? Jade, of course, barely reacted.
"Nice to see you two practicing without trying to kill each other for once," he said, giving us both that teacher-stare that made you feel like he could see right through you.
I shifted uncomfortably, but he wasn't done. "North, you need to put on some weight—both muscle and fat. You're built like a twig."
I blinked. "Uh—"
He gestured vaguely at my frame with his clipboard. "Keep coming to class, work hard, eat more, and we'll get you there."
Jade snorted.
I shot her a glare, but it only made her smile.
So, I just nodded, fighting the urge to defend my skinny build. He wasn't wrong—a few more pounds would probably help me hold my own better in fights. Especially against people like Jade.
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “I’ll work on it.”
As the class wound down, students started filing out. Some were laughing, others groaning about assignments, a few already making plans for the night.
Jade was among them, slipping out with her usual briskness, head high, posture sharp, like she was moving through the world just fast enough to keep anyone from stopping her.
We weren’t exactly friends now—just two people who had temporarily shelved their differences. That didn’t make the air between us any less awkward as I debated whether to say something before she disappeared.
At the last second, I did.
"By the way, are you coming to the party tonight?"
Jade stopped just before the doorway and turned slightly, her face unreadable. “No one invited me, so I can’t come.”
I almost laughed. The way she said it—blunt, matter-of-fact—like the concept of an open party was completely foreign to her, caught me off guard. Somehow, she had a way of taking the simplest things and flipping them into confounding statements.
“It’s a college party,” I said, shrugging. “No one gets a formal invite. You just dress up and show up.”
Jade didn’t reply immediately. Her brows knitted together slightly, like she was turning the words over in her mind, checking them for traps. Maybe she really didn’t get how this worked. Maybe it was because she wasn’t originally from Earth—maybe parties, social rules, casual human interactions didn’t function the same way wherever she came from. The confusion on her face was almost... cute?
Then, just as quickly, the confusion cleared. I could practically see the gears clicking into place as realization settled over her.
A slow, considering nod.
Not exactly a yes, but not a rejection either.
I watched her for a second longer, waiting for her to say something else, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned and walked off, disappearing into the stream of students leaving the gym.
I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck before making my way toward the locker room.
The gym smelled like sweat and old mats, the showers already running as a few guys rushed through post-training routines. I stripped out of my gear, let the hot water loosen the knots in my muscles, and changed into clean clothes.
The rest of the day passed in an odd lull. No surprises. No immediate disasters. Just a quiet, uneventful stretch of time that felt… wrong. I scrolled through HyperSpace, half-heartedly reading through posts, but even that lost its appeal quickly. Maybe it was habit—the constant need to be doing something, solving something, fighting something. Years of living on edge, always anticipating the next move, the next threat.
Now, even calm felt unnatural. Like my mind didn’t know how to settle, to rest.
For now, though, I let the quiet have its moment.
In this episode of SuperWorld, we’ll be discussing MMD, a prominent super organization.
Meta Manifestation Department (MMD): Introduction for the General Public
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Guide Individuals: Provide education, training, and resources to help individuals understand and control their meta-natures.
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Ensure Safety: Promote the responsible use of powers to prevent harm to oneself or others.
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Foster Community Integration: Encourage inclusivity and understanding between metas, ensuring equal opportunities and mutual respect.
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Protect Society: Develop protocols and tools to manage meta-related emergencies, ensuring public safety and stability.
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Support Innovation: Research and harness meta-natures to benefit society as a whole.
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here).
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Immediate Medical Evaluation: The individual will undergo an extensive assessment by MMD biologists, geneticists, and medical professionals.
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Adaptation Counseling: Psychological and social counseling is provided to help the individual adjust to their new form and identity.
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Community Integration Support: Customized resources and legal protections are offered to ensure societal acceptance and integration.
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Monitoring and Research: The MMD will closely monitor these cases to better understand their implications and to improve support mechanisms for similar transformations in the future.
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Meta-Nature Orientation Program: A standardized introduction to understanding and controlling your meta-nature.
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Counseling Services: Emotional and psychological support to help individuals adjust to their new abilities.
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Training Workshops: Hands-on sessions tailored to specific abilities, emphasizing control and responsible use.
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Health Assessments: Comprehensive evaluations to ensure physical and mental well-being during and after the transition.
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Family Workshops: Resources for parents and siblings to support their loved ones during the meta-nature development process.
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Public Awareness Campaigns: Educational materials and outreach programs to foster understanding and acceptance within communities.
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Emergency Assistance Lines: 24/7 hotlines for urgent questions or situations related to meta-nature development.
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Rapid Response Teams: Expertly trained units prepared to handle any meta-related incidents while ensuring public safety.
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Designated Safe Zones: Secure facilities where individuals can practice or stabilize their abilities under supervision.
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Ethics and Law Programs: Educational initiatives emphasizing the responsible and lawful use of meta-natures.
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Equality: Despite the nature of meta, every meta individuals is entitled to the same rights and opportunities.
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Confidentiality: Personal information related to your meta-nature is safeguarded and will only be used with your consent.
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Access to Resources: All individuals have the right to access MMD services tailored to their needs.
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Safe Use of Abilities: It is your duty to use your meta-nature responsibly and avoid causing harm.
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Registration: To ensure public safety and access to resources, all individuals must register their meta-nature with the MMD.
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Contributing to Society: Use your abilities positively, whether through community service, innovation, or simply being a responsible citizen.