Chapter 8: The Man Who Lived With Desire
Two years.
Two full years passed since that moment — when a sleepy boy bonded with a Primordial Concept that ancient civilizations feared and modern ones still couldn't comprehend.
Chris sat on a bench within the heavily protected research facility known as "The Pale Hall."
Outside his room, twelve different surveillance systems tracked his every breath. Four barrier types enclosed his quarters, cycling in shifts to avoid "mana fatigue." Mages of the Heroic rank rotated daily, maintaining an eye on "Subject: D-01." And at any given moment, ten separate contingency plans stood ready — just in case the Eye decided to, say, consume reality or rewrite causality because Chris stubbed his toe too hard.
But despite all that?
Chris was bored out of his mind.
It wasn't exactly a prison.
Not exactly.
They called it a Containment Residence.
He called it a fancy cage.
His room had a kitchen, a bed, even a gaming crystal powered by mana cores. He got three meals a day. He could order books, request entertainment, and even go out into the "designated garden sector" for exercise. But there was always someone watching. Always someone evaluating.
At first, he resisted. Loudly.
He threatened to blow the Eye up himself, to "yeet it into a volcano," to "desire freedom so hard it bends reality."
That last one actually scared the researchers a little, so he had to tone it down.
Eventually, they made a deal.
The Terms:
Chris would remain inside Pale Hall for the foreseeable future.The Eye would not be forcefully removed, extracted, duplicated, or copied unless Chris consented.Chris's parents would be protected, provided for, and allowed visitation under supervision.In return, Chris would undergo regular observation, sync scans, emotional-state evaluations, and occasional "harmless experiments."He would be granted full access to the facility's libraries and lectures.He would be considered a Neutral Custodian of a Potential Class-X Artifact.
Neutral. Not weapon. Not prisoner. Not asset.
Just… someone who accidentally bonded with cosmic truth.
At first, the deal felt cold. Mechanical. But the moment they mentioned his parents, Chris gave in. They were alive. Safe. Given a house, a stipend, even access to better medical care. The government honored its word.
He saw them twice a month.
They smiled, hugged him tightly, told him they were proud of him. That he was doing great. That they understood.
But Chris could tell.
They were scared.
Not of him — but of everything surrounding him. The cameras. The guards. The way the air shimmered when he stood too close to the glass.
Two Years.
And still—
[Synchronization: 25%.]
No change.
No growth.
No new dreams.
Just the same Origin memory stuck on repeat like some cosmic trailer for a movie that never came.
The Eye floated with him always, hovering like a pet or a guardian or... a parasite. It never spoke. Never moved on its own. But he knew it was aware.
Every now and then, it pulsed.
Soft. Subtle.
As if breathing.
He learned things in that time.
They taught him how to analyze magical constructs, how to read old rune dialects, how to understand elemental cycles and mana flowcharts. He read textbooks meant for top academy students. He attended lectures via crystal-streams, sometimes even asked questions anonymously.
They tried to integrate him. Slowly.
But he didn't forget.
He was still a subject.
A ticking time bomb.
"Chris?"
A voice called softly.
He looked up from the book he was reading — something dense about Arcadian leyline fractures.
Standing outside the transparent barrier was Professor Yuna Kael, the youngest Mythical-ranked scholar in Arcadia's history, and the head of the Eye Observation Division.
She had short-cut silver hair, glasses that shimmered with detection enchantments, and a permanent look like she hadn't slept in three weeks — which she probably hadn't.
"Yeah?"
"You're… stable today."
"Thanks for the riveting observation, Doc."
She chuckled softly. She always tolerated his sarcasm better than the others.
"We're doing another resonance scan this evening. You'll feel a slight mana pull, nothing invasive. You know the drill."
Chris nodded. He closed the book and stood, stretching.
"Any new guesses on what this thing actually is?"
"We're still compiling records. We think the Eye is a Conceptual Anchor — something that exists both inside and outside of system rules."
"...Which is science-speak for 'we still don't know.'"
"Essentially."
She paused.
"But Chris... something's changed in the world recently."
He blinked.
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated.
"There are... disturbances. Monsters behaving abnormally. Cities where people start rioting without reason. Entire regions where desires run wild — almost like they're being amplified."
Chris frowned.
The Eye pulsed faintly.
"You think it's me?"
"We don't know. But... we think your synchronization may not be the only one happening."
Silence.
That night, as Chris lay in his room staring at the ceiling, he whispered to the Eye.
"There's more of you?"
The Eye didn't answer.
But somewhere, deep inside the dream-space...
A second Eye blinked open.
And another.
And another.