Chapter 31
Nathaniel’s sat, his fingers intertwined as he rested his jaw against them. His eyes seed tensed. The footage that Myre had sent him shook him.
He hit the pause on the video again, staring at the frozen fra, Ronan, unconscious, eyes blood red, while two trained guards collapsed like puppets cut from their strings. No visible movent. No effort. Just death.
"What... in God’s na..."
The door hissed open with a soft beep, and Dr. Calen Myre stepped in, calm as ever. He held a tablet in one hand, eyes unreadable behind thin lenses.
"You’ve seen it," Myre said, stating the obvious as he approached.
Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, his eyes slightly wide with disbelief. "You’re telling Ronan... killed two guards without waking up?"
"No," Myre said. "I’m telling you his system did."
Nathaniel blinked. "That’s not possible. Systems don’t act independently. They’re tools. Bound by rules. Contracts."
Myre tilted his head slightly. "That’s true, for every other user we’ve studied. But this one... is different."
He dropped the tablet on the desk, flipping through diagnostic data, brainwave spikes, magical interference logs. "His system activated post-mortem. During brain death. Then revived him without any catalyst, no contract, no summoning glyph. It chose him. And now, it’s evolving."
Nathaniel’s brows knitted. "Evolving how?"
"We don’t know yet. But if the pattern continues... it won’t need Ronan’s permission for long. It’ll start acting on instinct. And its instinct is violence."
Silence filled the room.
Nathaniel stood, walked over to the reinforced glass wall, and stared down at the vast city below—streets lined with lights, unaware of the ticking bomb housed beneath them.
He finally spoke, voice low. "We can’t let this go public, not even HQ should find out. If the public finds out a rogue system exists,one that chooses its host and kills on its own, we’ll have riots. System riots. And HQ might even decide to eliminate him, or maybe a crazy one could even propose using him as a weapon."
"I agree," Myre replied. "Which is why I’ll keep him contained. Isolated. No contact. Full surveillance."
Nathaniel turned to face him. "Can you control him?"
"No," Myre said. "But I can study him. And if he turns, I’ll put him down myself."
For a long beat, Nathaniel stared at the man. Then nodded slowly. "That’s why I trust you, Calen. You don’t flinch when others would pray."
He poured a drink from a crystal decanter, then handed it to Myre. "Here’s to containing the impossible."
Myre didn’t drink. Just pocketed the tablet. "And to surviving it."
---
Back in the Observation Wing
Ronan sat on the edge of the cot, now dressed in standard issue grey sweats. A wristband humd faintly against his pulse, a tracker, no doubt.
The room was plain: steel walls, one mirror (probably two-way), and a cara in every corner.
He knew escaping here would be a walk in the park if he actually tried, but his mind wasn’t on escaping.
It was on the mory, those two guards.
He hadn’t ant to hurt them. Hell, he didn’t even rember doing it. But their faces were stuck in his head, lifeless and dry like overused dolls.
He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath.
Sothing was changing inside him.
And fast. He knew all he had to know about system, and he’d never once heard of a system going out of control. His system had been helping him evolve, get stronger, even extract skills from other system users, but now....this was totally different.
System Online, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Cold. chanical.
Initiating synchronization... 12%... 28%... 41%...
His breath hitched. "Synchronization? With what?"
With Primary Host.
"I am the host."
Incorrect. You are the vessel.
Ronan shot to his feet, stumbling backward until he hit the wall.
"What the hell does that an?"
But no answer ca.
What the actual fuck? His system could communicate with him now?
His heart raced in his chest, he needed answers as soon as possible, and there was only one person he knew would be able to give him answers, because it was also possible that all these were caused by him.
Back during the mission, the ti he thought he would finally get to et the boss behind the screens, he was disappointed to find that it was just another system user with ti reversal ability, and he was the one responsible for making the beasts regenerate.
Ronan knew that the only way he could make that man co for him, was to do sothing loud enough to shake the system world to its core. Sothing reckless. Dangerous.
He exhaled, eyes darkening.
"If you’re watching... then co find yourself."
---
anwhile – Surveillance Control Room
Three operators sat glued to their screens, eyes fixed on the subject in Room 09, Ronan.
"He’s talking to himself again," one of them whispered.
"No... he’s talking to sothing," the other corrected. "Look at his vitals, spiking. Neural activity off the charts. That’s not normal processing. Sothing’s... responding to him."
The third operator leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "Notify Myre. Now."
---
Ronan paced the room now, hands clenched at his sides. Whatever this system was, it was buried deep in him, like a parasite waiting for the perfect mont to burst free. And he could feel it watching. Listening.
He gritted his teeth. "Alright. If I’m the vessel... who’s the damn host?"
Synchronization: 73%...
"No—screw you. I didn’t agree to this."
Consent not required.
His eyes twitched. "Of course it isn’t."
---
Elsewhere – Deep Underground
In a sealed chamber no one was supposed to know existed, a man stood before a massive screen, his face half-lit by its pale glow.
He watched the footage of Ronan in silence, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
"He’s accelerating," he murmured to himself. "Faster than projected."
A woman stepped beside him, clad in black and silver. "Do we intervene?"
He gave a small, knowing smile. "No. Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because the vessel is starting to question the system. Once doubt sets in... the host awakens."
He turned to her, eyes gleaming. "That’s when we make our move."
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