The city didn't walk—it glided.
Mag-trams hovered above transparent skywalks, advertisements scanned your retina and tailored themselves in real time, and bio-augmented citizens strutted like models on invisible runways. Virelia pulsed with arrogance and efficiency. Everyone had somewhere to be and a holographic assistant telling them how to get there.
Kade had… absolutely no clue what he was doing.
No map, no contacts, no memories of this life. Just half a million credits, a system with a personality disorder, and the warning to not level up yet.
> [Quest Reminder]: Survive Day One
Optional Bonus: Spend less than 10,000 Credits before sundown
Note: You will not.
"Challenge accepted," Kade muttered.
He found the nearest info kiosk—a smooth obsidian pillar with a holographic interface that pulsed when approached. He reached out.
> Biometric Access Detected
Welcome, New User: Elaris, Kade
Net Identity Level: [INITIATE]
Credit Tier: B-Class (temp)
Suggested Actions:
Open a Vault Account
Purchase Entry-Level Combat Protocol
Buy Fashion Pack: Street Authority Edition
Visit Memory Reclamation Lounge?
"Memory reclamation?" Kade whispered.
> Caution: This process costs 1,000,000 Credits.
Warning: Full memory restores may include traumatic death loops, personality instability, and undesired alignment changes.
"Yikes. We'll pass on that."
He backed away from the kiosk before it tried to sell him virtual soul insurance. For now, he needed a base of operations. Shelter. Somewhere to plan—and maybe figure out what the hell this Obsidian Gate was.
Kade pulled up a mini-map overlay in his vision. A blinking dot labeled "Newspawn Assistance Hub" hovered nearby. He walked toward it, blending in with the crowd.
Well, trying to.
Apparently, wearing an outfit that shimmered like luxury-grade nano-silk made you stand out… especially in the poor sector.
The Assistance Hub was a cube-shaped building surrounded by what looked like discount androids on their smoke breaks. A line of tired, nervous people snaked out the front door. A holographic sign buzzed above the entrance:
> "Survive Smart™ – We'll Help You Not Die Broke!"
Inside, the place smelled like ionized metal and desperation. Digital forms floated mid-air while bureaucratic AI projected calming voice lines in a loop.
> "Please fill out your Class Preference Survey!"
"Yes, we support Partial Reincarnates!"
"No, you cannot trade your credits for hugs."
Kade moved to an open booth labeled "Priority Intake – Glitchborns Only." A humanoid attendant blinked awake as he stepped in.
"Name?" it asked, voice smooth and too polite.
"Kade Elaris."
The bot paused. "You've already been flagged. You're under observation. Initiate trace protocols?"
Kade stepped back. "Nope."
"Very well," the bot said. "Would you like a starter pack?"
"What's in it?"
> STARTER PACK – GLITCHBORN
• Basic Weapon: Gravity Dagger
• Street-Grade Armor Skin
• DebitChip™ (Physical credit implant)
• Housing Voucher (District 9)
• Emergency Snack Bar
Kade sighed. "Fine. I'll take it."
The items appeared one by one in a shimmer of code. He slipped the DebitChip behind his ear—instant syncing. A ping confirmed his balance. Still 500,000C. For now.
He left the center with a small duffel of gear, one very stabby-looking dagger, and an address: 9–C, Obsidian Alley.
"Wait—Obsidian?" His eyes narrowed.
Coincidence? Or breadcrumb?
Either way, he headed toward it.
---
The farther he got from the city core, the glitchier things became. Ads blinked in the wrong language. Windows displayed weather from two weeks ago. A man walked by holding a leash—attached to nothing but thin air.
By the time Kade reached Obsidian Alley, it was nearly dusk. The sun—if you could call it that—was a giant pulsing sphere that flickered like a corrupted file.
District 9 wasn't glamorous, but it was quiet. A row of narrow apartment cubes stacked like shipping containers. His voucher matched a unit with flickering door lights and an actual analog lock.
Inside: one bed, one shower, one terminal. But no cameras. No system voice chirping at him.
Private.
Safe.
He sat on the bed and pulled up the system screen manually.
> [SYSTEM WARNING]
"You are currently untracked."
"You are now a variable."
"What the hell does that mean?" Kade asked.
The system didn't answer.
Just then, his terminal buzzed. One new message.
> [ANONYMOUS – FRAGMENT]:
"You're closer than you think. You have until sunrise."
Kade leaned back. "Cool. No pressure."
He stared at the ceiling, dagger beside him, credits ticking down every hour he breathed. The city outside never stopped glowing.
And tomorrow?
He'd start breaking it.