The world was quiet after the storm.
The skies no longer wept light. The code that had burned through creation settled into fine dust, drifting across the scarred plains like digital snow. The ground beneath his feet still shimmered faintly — a patchwork of erased terrain and fractured geometry.
Aiden — or what remained of him — stood at the center of the devastation. His body pulsed with foreign energy, veins of luminous code crawling under his skin, each line whispering data like prayers.
He could still feel the Wipe Protocol lingering inside him, a living virus he had devoured rather than destroyed. Every breath tasted of electricity, every heartbeat resonated with the weight of the System itself.
> [Data stability: 83%]
[Unknown anomaly: growing.]
[Suggestion: isolate core for recovery.]
He ignored the alerts. The System's voice was broken now — fractured, half-terrified of him.
He was alone. Utterly.
Or so he thought.
