The entrance to the subway station was half-buried under collapsed buildings, its rusted metal gate twisted at odd angles. The world around it flickered—the remnants of a world that had once followed a set of rules, now coming apart at the seams.
Aya peered down into the darkness. "This is either the best idea we've had or the dumbest."
Ethan exhaled. His mind was still stuck on what had happened earlier—the cloaked figure, the voice, the momentary reset of the world.
"Only one way to find out," he muttered.
Aya shot him a look. "Great. Love that level of confidence."
They climbed over the debris and into the station, moving carefully. Dust and broken tiles crunched beneath their feet. Faded posters still clung to the walls—advertisements for long-dead companies, their colors glitching in and out.
> [System Notice: Zone Stability - Critical]
- Probability of Anomalies: 82%
Ethan frowned. Not good.
They stepped deeper into the station, the air thick with stale dust and static energy. The further they went, the worse the flickering got.
Then—a sound.
Metal scraping against stone.
Aya tensed, gripping her knife. Ethan activated his Exploit Vision, scanning the darkness.
> [Entity Detected]
- Status: Unstable… Processing Data…
The shadows shifted.
A figure stepped into view.
At first, Ethan thought it was human.
Then he saw the glitches.
Its face warped, shifting between different expressions in rapid succession. Its limbs were too long, its body flickering in and out like an incomplete render.
It turned its head toward them with a sickening crack.
Then—it charged.
Ethan barely had time to react before it was on them.
Aya moved first, slashing her knife toward its head—
The blade passed right through.
The thing didn't stop.
Its flickering hand stretched unnaturally, reaching for Ethan's chest—
He threw himself backward, barely avoiding the corrupting touch.
His System Exploit kicked in.
> [Exploit Available: Fragment Analysis]
He didn't hesitate. YES.
The creature paused mid-movement.
Lines of code flashed across Ethan's vision. He saw its weak points—glitches in its structure.
> [Target Structure Unstable]
- Recommended Action: Force Data Desynchronization
Right.
Ethan focused his will, activating the command.
The creature convulsed.
Its body began unraveling, pixel by pixel.
It let out a horrible, distorted scream as its form collapsed into a cascade of broken data.
Then—silence.
Aya exhaled. "Okay. That was horrifying."
Ethan wiped sweat from his brow. "Yeah."
Aya gave him a look. "You did it again, didn't you? Used the System."
Ethan hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I… I don't know how. But yeah."
Aya crossed her arms. "That thing wasn't just a normal glitch. It was something else."
Ethan thought back to the cloaked figure's words. You are unfinished.
He clenched his fists. "I think… whatever's happening, it's getting worse."
Aya glanced around. The station groaned, the walls distorting for a brief second before snapping back into place.
"Then we better hurry," she said.
Ethan nodded.
Because something told him that this was only the beginning.
And the deeper they went, the worse it was going to get.
The Descent
The deeper they went, the worse it got.
The subway station's architecture warped in ways that made no sense—pillars stretched too high, walls curved inward like melted plastic. The flickering grew worse, and some areas of the tunnel seemed to loop back on themselves.
Aya's voice was tight. "Tell me this is just my imagination."
Ethan swallowed hard. His Exploit Vision picked up errors everywhere—sections of the tunnel that weren't fully loaded, as if the System itself was struggling to keep the world intact.
> [System Warning: Structural Integrity Failing]
- Anomaly Density: 94%
Not good.
They kept moving.
At the far end of the tunnel, an old maintenance door flickered in and out of existence. The words "Control Hub" were barely visible through the layers of grime.
Ethan and Aya exchanged a look.
"This might get us out of here," Ethan said.
Aya nodded. "Or get us killed."
"Yeah, that too."
They approached cautiously. Ethan reached out—
Then the door vanished.
Aya cursed. "You've got to be kidding me."
> [System Exploit Available: Data Reconstruction]
Ethan focused. YES.
The air shimmered—and the door reappeared.
Aya stared. "I will never get used to that."
Ethan ignored her and grabbed the rusted handle. It was cold. Too cold. Like touching something that shouldn't exist.
He turned it.
The door swung open—
And the world collapsed.
---
The Control Hub
They stumbled inside, barely keeping their balance as the floor shifted beneath them.
The room beyond was massive—a cavernous space filled with glowing monitors, shifting code, and broken System terminals.
It was some kind of control center.
Aya took a step forward. "What is this place?"
Ethan scanned the room. "A part of the System. Or what's left of it."
Most of the monitors were dead, but one flickered weakly. A System prompt blinked on the screen:
> [Admin Access Required]
Ethan moved toward it, heart pounding.
If he could access this… Maybe he could find out what was really happening.
Maybe he could hack the System itself.
He placed his hand on the console.
> [Attempting Admin Override…]
- ERROR. UNAUTHORIZED USER.
- OVERRIDE REJECTED.
The screen flashed red.
Then—
The lights flickered violently.
The walls warped.
And a voice echoed through the chamber.
> "YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE."
Ethan's stomach dropped.
The air crackled.
And then—something stepped out of the darkness.
It wasn't like the glitches they had seen before.
This was something older. More powerful.
It had no face. No real shape. Its body shifted between fragments of corrupted data and the skeletal remains of something vaguely human.
Aya backed up. "Ethan. What the hell is that?"
Ethan didn't answer.
Because his System was silent.
No warnings. No combat notifications.
Nothing.
That meant one thing.
Whatever this was… it wasn't part of the System anymore.
It had evolved past it.
The entity raised a twisted, shifting arm.
The room trembled.
And suddenly, Ethan understood.
This wasn't just some random monster.
This was a failed version of what he was becoming.
And it was angry.