The outside smelled different, it reeked of booze and human waste.
But today it was different, metallic, like snow. It never snowed in Fallowmere.
He turned around, and what he saw, shocked him.
It was a rift, a tear in reality, it shined bright purple in colour, bending his mind into thinking endless possibilities of what was happening.
She stepped out of the rift like a reflection made solid — weightless, radiant, and silent.
Her body wasn't wrapped in armor, nor in robes, but in something in between — a gown of cascading light and hex-thread, flickering between silk and circuitry with every breath.
Her feet never touched the ground. Where she hovered, the air shimmered. Runes pulsed in a slow orbit around her ankles like planets obeying gravity.
Her skin was pale, but not lifeless — it glowed faintly, like moonlight trapped beneath glass.
And her hair — if it could be called hair — flowed behind her in strands of code-laced silver, rising and drifting like smoke in water.
Her face was beautiful in a way that made no sense: symmetrical, flawless, but… not entirely human. Her eyes were soft pools of violet light, layered with data rings that spun as she looked at him. Not like someone seeing, but measuring.
Around her neck hung a singular piece of obsidian, etched with a shifting emblem — a circle that opened and closed like an iris.
She did not blink. She did not breathe.
'She looks like a ghost of the future…
Or a memory the stars forgot to erase.
Not a god. Not a machine. Something in between' he was amazed by her looks.
She didn't walk. She drifted — light barely kissing the ground beneath her. Her presence warped the air, as though reality had to bend to let her exist.
Arthur's breath caught, chest rising and falling in shallow waves. She looked human, but she was not. Her gown whispered like starlight, shifting between cloth and code, data rippling along seams that shouldn't exist.
She raised her arm.
Slowly. Deliberately.
In her hand — or maybe from her hand — extended a thin, gleaming stinger of segmented alloy, crystalline at the tip, softly pulsing with pale blue light. It vibrated with a frequency too high for sound — felt more than heard.
Arthur didn't move. Couldn't.
Not fear. Not paralysis. Just… awe.
She stepped forward, and he could see now — she wasn't walking through the air. The world was reforming around her feet. Like code stitching space to hold her up.
Her eyes — if they were eyes — locked onto his arm.
She lifted the stinger.
And without hesitation… She stabbed him.
It was fast. Precise.
A single jab into his left forearm. No windup. No pause.
Arthur flinched back — but there was no pain. No blood.
Just… a pulse.
Like something ancient had just turned on inside him.
His skin shimmered — just for a moment — as silver lines bloomed across his veins, tracing up his arm, across his chest, up his neck. Circuits — thin, semi-transparent, alive. They moved beneath the surface like veins learning a new shape.
Glowing fragments of hexagonal glyphs spiraled briefly into view, orbiting his wrist, his temples, his spine.
One by one, they embedded themselves and vanished.
Then silence.
Nova stepped back. The stinger retracted with a faint click, disappearing into her hand like it had never been there.
She turned to leave.
But just before she faded back into the fold of reality, she paused.
Her head turned — slightly.
Just a glance.
Not curiosity. No remorse.
Something closer to acknowledgement.
Then she was gone.
No light. No flash. Just absence.
Arthur's legs gave out beneath him. His breath caught, eyes rolling back.
The world spun once, like a wheel breaking loose.
And he fell.
....
A minute, or an hour passed. He didn't know.
But when Arthur's eyes opened again, the sky outside the alley had changed. The moon had shifted. Fog still hung low.
But he was different.
He could feel it in his spine.
In the back of his skull.
In the center of his palm — where the skin now bore a faint circular marking, pulsing gently like a second heartbeat.
Then it appeared.
In the corner of his vision — glowing softly. Clean, sterile.
[A.E.O.N. SYSTEM BOOT COMPLETE]
Owner: Arthur Greystone (Human)
Rank: Dormant
Sync Progress: 17%
Neural Adaptability: Stable
[A.E.O.N. Requests Surveillance Protocol]
[Yes/No]
What is this…?
The words weren't painted on the wall, yet they were everywhere — hanging in the corner of his vision.
His heart pounded. This wasn't a dream. It wasn't a hallucination.
Is this what she did to me?
His hand trembled slightly. Surveillance protocol? What does that even mean? Watch me? Track me? Monitor who?
He didn't understand the system.
He didn't know what he was agreeing to.
But what he did know—deep in his chest—was this. Everything had already changed.
Whatever that woman—that being—had done to him, it was permanent.
There was no going back.
And if the system was watching… maybe it could also hear. 'Maybe it could help'
Slowly, his fingers moved.
A small glyph responded in the air. Hovering. Waiting.
He raised one trembling hand toward it.
Arthur hesitated — just for a heartbeat. Then, he reached out and tapped the glyph.
[Surveillance Protocol: Activated]
Initial scan: 20m radius
Hostile presence: None
Ambient risk level: Low
Environmental tags: Rotwood Tavern | Slum Alley – Fallowmere
Arthur hovered his hand over the glowing glyph again. The light shifted — and the interface pulsed once, then…
[STATUS]
Name: Arthur Greystone
Rank: Dormant
Sync Progress: 17%
Vitality: 36%
System Sync: 100%
Level: 2
Available Upgrade Points: 2
Endurance: 4
Strength: 3
Perception: 5
Intellect: 6
Resolve: 7
Adaptability: 6
They didn't just feel like numbers.
They felt like choices.
[Allocate Upgrade Point]
(Choose attribute to enhance)
How the system described it, it felt like this could help him upgrade his…Stats??
Arthur tapped it. Another panel unfolded — slower this time, like the system was waiting for him to understand.
So this is it, he thought. I can change. I can grow.
He hovered over Resolve for a moment — the word flickered as if the system was nudging him.
Then he moved to Perception, hesitated, then finally tapped Strength.
'They hit me. And I let them', his resolve was strong.
[Upgrade Point Allocated: Strength +2]
Arthur flexed his fingers.
They felt the same… but heavier.
Not slower — denser. More grounded.
He touched the edge of a wooden table beside the house. Pressed down — just a little.
The wood creaked beneath his palm.
His eyes narrowed.
Just a little.
But enough to matter.