The apartment was still.
The only sound was the faint hum of electricity running through old wires. Faint, distant. Like the world itself held its breath.
Marcus sat alone on the floor.
The same hands that reached out to Bethany now lay still, stained with nothing yet burdened with everything. His hoodie clung to him like the weight of the night, soaked not in sweat, but in something far more unbearable: guilt.
Fang was silent, uncharacteristically so. The smugness was gone. No taunts, no mocking commentary. Only the quiet presence of a predator who'd just watched its host evolve.
Marcus clenched his fists. The floor beneath him cracked ever so slightly under his pulse. Mana trembled around him, but it wasn't his. Not entirely. It was hers. Her echo. The system was still processing her, whatever that meant.
"She smiled," he whispered.
The words fell flat into the silence.
"She smiled when she saw me. She trusted me."
His voice cracked. Whether from the rawness in his throat or the fracture in his soul, he couldn't tell.
"You devoured her," a voice echoed behind him.
Marcus didn't flinch. He knew that voice.
"Anomaly."
The room didn't shift. The shadows didn't dance. But Marcus felt it—eyes, not just watching, but measuring. The presence of something ancient, something calculating.
"Yes," Anomaly said, his voice neither cruel nor kind. "And in doing so, Phase One is complete."
Marcus stood, slowly. The air around him buzzed. The system was changing. Glitching. Upgrading.
"You said I had to do this," Marcus muttered. "But you never said it would be like this."
"I didn't think you would hesitate," Anomaly replied coolly. "You carry the weapon.Fang devoured it and I processed it. Hesitation is a weakness you cannot afford."
"She's not just data!" Marcus roared, finally turning to face where he felt Anomaly more than saw him. "She was alive! She trusted me!"
"You mistake this for a story of heroes," Anomaly said. His form shimmered faintly now in the distortion, his masked face emerging like a god from corrupted code. "But this is a story of design. Of evolution. You are not the hero, Marcus. You are the weapon."
Marcus staggered back, clutching his chest as something began pulsing beneath his skin—something new, deep in his core. A second heartbeat. The Devourer Core awakening.
"She was one of the Four," Anomaly said. "A decoy. Meant to die. The gods marked her, and I preserved her. Until now."
"You… preserved her? For me?"
Anomaly tilted his head. "To grow a blade that can kill gods, one must temper it in blood. Yours. Theirs. Everyone's."
Marcus was shaking now, from rage or horror or something deeper.
"You knew I'd break."
"You didn't break," Anomaly said. "You hatched."
A glitch tore through the walls. The lights flickered. For a split second, Marcus saw himself reflected in the glass, his eyes pulsing between human and something other. Gold. Crimson. A divine corruption.
Fang spoke at last, his voice flat. "You felt it, didn't you? When you devoured her. The system took in her skills, her mana, her memories. And something else. Something the Divine Father left behind."
Marcus looked down at his hand. It shimmered with a faint violet hue, Bethany's signature color.
"A seed," Anomaly confirmed. "A gift. Or a curse. Planted long ago. For you."
Marcus closed his eyes.
"I don't want to be this."
"I know," Anomaly replied. "But it no longer matters what you want."
A pause.
Then Marcus whispered, "She called me a good person. Just before I… before I—"
He couldn't finish.
The silence stretched long enough that he thought Anomaly had vanished.
But then—
"Bethany's purpose is fulfilled," Anomaly said. "And now, so is yours. The system has matured. Your Devourer Core is active. You are no longer in Phase One. You are becoming."
Marcus lowered himself back to the floor. He felt tired. So incredibly tired.
"What happens now?" he asked quietly.
"You mourn her," Anomaly said. "For a little while."
"And then?"
The voice was cold steel.
"You kill a god."
The next day, Marcus sits on the floor in sweatpants, surrounded by a sad excuse for packing: one hoodie, a tangle of charger cables, and a single sock. Fang is levitating upside down, spinning a spoon. A glowing terminal flickers mid-air. Anomaly is "typing" a resignation letter... with way too much enthusiasm.
Subject: Immediate Resignation – Marcus
Dear Boss,
Effective immediately, Marcus will no longer be available to attend his previously assigned duties. He has chosen to pursue a life-changing opportunity abroad—specifically in Korea—where he intends to hunt frag—ahem—I mean, secure a better, good-paying job that respects his time, mental health, and ability to survive without consuming instant noodles seven nights a week.
We acknowledge the extra shifts he took on, especially following the mysterious disappearance of one Bethany (who we will not be commenting further on, for obvious reasons). Despite this, you generously compensated him with just enough to afford one sock, a bag of rice, and the bitter taste of capitalism.
Do not expect a two-week notice. Frankly, we believe you've had months of notice every time you ignored his "urgent" emails, workplace suggestions, or that time he passed out in the break room and someone propped him up with a mop.
Please consider this the final logout of Employee #0497.
Best of luck replacing him. You'll need it.
Yours unkindly,
Anomaly
(Sentient System. Hacker of Reality. Not your employee.)
Marcus read it wide-eyes.
"…You're gonna get me blacklisted."
"Blacklists are for mortals. You're hunting fragments now, buddy. Also, I sent it in Comic Sans," Anomaly said, smirking.
"And attached a .zip labeled 'Bethany's Last Shift' with absolutely nothing inside. Just good vibes and dread," Fang added. Marcus didn't know it if it was a joke or not.
"Why are you guys like this?"
"Because you're like this. We're literally your reflection."
Anomaly rolled his eyes.
Later that night. The room is dark, lit only by the bluish glow of Marcus's cracked laptop screen. His hoodie is half-zipped, his eyes half-dead. A tab titled "How to Buy a Ticket to Korea" sits open, laughing at his pitiful bank balance.
He groaned.
"Seven euros and twelve cents. Sick. That's not even enough for airport water."
He swipes through job listings—one worse than the last. Bartending. Dog-walking. Selling his kidney on the dark web (marked as "pending consideration").
"I could sell my soul... maybe half of it. Or my PS4. Or... I don't know, rob a nun?"
Just as he's spiraling into economic despair, a glitch tears through the room. Reality hiccups like a skipped frame in a broken game.
Anomaly suddenly appearing as a shimmering glitch in the corner.
"Wow. Thinking like a peasant. Are you finally done moping?"
Marcus jerked back.
"Jesus! Can you not just appear like that?!"
"Jesus didn't leave you to rot in financial ruin. I did. And now I'm fixing it," anomaly mocked him.
With a dramatic flick of his glitched sleeve, Anomaly snaps his fingers. The space in front of Marcus rips open like digital paper from within, a sleek black envelope levitates out and lands gently on his lap.
Marcus opens it.
Inside are:
A thick bankbook with a several-million-euro balance, five black credit cards, each cold and heavy as guilt, a "Tourist Visa – Republic of Korea" with a glitching holographic Marcus photo, and a post-it that says "You're Welcome. –King of Hackers"
Marcus was horrified.
"What. The. Absolute. Hell."
Anomaly beamed like a proud criminal
"I hacked the Vatican, rerouted a dozen hedge fund slush accounts, and borrowed a few lazy trillionaire wallets. You, my friend, are now liquid."
"YOU STOLE MONEY?!"
Anomaly felt offended.
"No no no. I redistributed. Wealth. From unethical billionaires. Who underpaid their workers and drank wine more expensive than your life."
Fang crossed his arms.
"I told him to name one of the cards 'Soul Eater Unlimited' but he went with 'Marcus Prime.' Lame."
Marcus started to panic.
"The banks will find out. I'm going to get arrested at customs!"
Anomaly started to feel annoyed.
"Who do you think built the customs firewall? I left a love letter in the logs. No one's tracking this. Not even the gods."
Fang grinned
"He paid off your loans too. And forged an Airbnb review trail that makes you look like a travel vlogger."
"Because nothing screams innocent tourists like a guy with five black cards and no checked luggage," Anomaly smirked.
"This is insane. This is a crime."
"This is an adventure. Korea awaits. So does your next meal," Anomaly said. Seemingly excited to fly to their next destination.
Marcus slowly flips the visa over, staring at the glitched hologram. The phrase "ENTRY PURPOSE: Soul Retrieval" flickers briefly before shifting to "TOURISM."
"…You forged international documents too?!"
"I made the United Nations. Don't test me."
"Pack your things, weakling. We're going devouring," Fang said excitedly.
"…I hate that I'm getting used to this," Marcus said, sighing.
"That's the spirit. Don't forget the fifth card. Only use it if you're ready to make the Moon God very uncomfortable."
At the airport – BUSINESS CLASS LOUNGE before Marcus' flight to Korea.
Marcus is sitting on a leather recliner that probably costs more than his old apartment. He's clutching his boarding pass like it's a golden ticket. Fang lounges across from him, sipping on champagne with a straw, legs kicked up like he owns the lounge.
"Why do they keep offering me towels? How many towels does one man need?" Marcus whispered.
"It's a dominance thing. They give you hot towels so you remember you're better than economy peasants."
Marcus looked around nervously.
"I've never even seen a business lounge before. The air smells like... money and betrayal," Marcus whispered nervously.
"That's probably the truffle oil."
A sharply dressed hostess walks by offering chocolate-dusted truffles and lavender spritz water. Marcus flinches.
Fang looked at him, smirking.
"Act normal. You're about to board a plane that reclines into a bed. If you panic now, you'll combust when the seat massages your spine."
They walk through the Business Class jet bridge. The lights dim, classical music plays softly. A stewardess greets them with a bow and champagne.
The stewardess greeted and smiled at them.
"Mr. Marcus, Mr. Fang—welcome aboard. Your seats are 2A and 2B. Please let us know if you'd like anything tailored. Mr. Anomaly has provided full upgrades."
Marcus' eyes widened.
"H-he did what?"
"He rented out half the cabin. I requested five pillows and a steak. Medium rare."
"This is... wrong. I shouldn't be here. This feels like stealing."
"You're devouring gods, Marcus. You can sit in a leather chair and eat shrimp without crying."
Marcus sits reclined, eyes wide, headphones in, warm towel in hand. A steward lays a silk blanket across him. Fang is across the aisle, eating Wagyu steak and watching an action movie.
"So this is what life's like when you stop being pathetic."
"...Shut up."
"Anomaly wanted to book First Class but thought it would break your mortal mind. Said you still flinch when someone hands you a bill at a café."
Marcus groaned.
"I do not—okay maybe once—twice max."
"Focus. Once we land, you're not Marcus the Underpaid Loser anymore. You're Marcus the Devourer. There's a fragment in this country. And it's going to scream before it's eaten."
Marcus gulped.
"Right. Korea. The second fragment…"
"He's waiting. And he's stronger than Bethany. Smarter too. You'll need to be more than just a vessel."
"What's his name?"
"Jun-Seok. Public hero. Secret monster."