The door clicked softly behind me. For a moment, the silence was complete — no breathing thief, no flickering system voice. Just the still hum of a building that shouldn't exist.
Cold light buzzed faintly overhead, trembling like it was afraid of itself. The floor stretched out in identical tiles, repeating patterns that blurred if I looked too long.
[System Online] Battery: 2.5% Company Points: 13 Attributes: STR 1 | AGI 1 | END 1 | INT 1 | PER 1 XP: 60 / 150
I exhaled and moved low. My boots whispered against the tile. Every corner looked the same — every shadow felt like it had something crouching just behind it.
A room number 204 sign hung crookedly on a nearby door. It looked like it had been peeled off and reattached wrong. Inside, the air smelled faintly of dust and copper.
On a small kitchenette counter lay something ordinary: a dinner plate, plain white ceramic. Except the edge shimmered, faintly refracting light.
[Anomalous Object Detected: Plate, "Ceramic-Type C1"] Property: Breaks when in contact with aluminum foil. Company Classification: C1 harmless. Recover object? Y/N
I blinked. That was it? A plate allergic to foil?Still, Company Points were Company Points.
I touched it. The plate rippled once and vanished into light.
[Object absorbed. Logged in Codex.] Battery: 2.6% Company Points: +1 XP: +10
Further down the hall, I found another room, 205, half-collapsed. Filing cabinets spilled their contents like intestines. Amid the paper and rust, something gleamed — a utility knife.I picked it up and flicked it open. The blade shimmered oddly.
[Anomalous Object Detected: Utility Knife, "Angular Slice"] Property: Only cuts materials angled exactly 44°. Classification: C2 low risk. Recover object? Y/N
I hesitated, then nodded. Another flash — gone.
[Object absorbed. Logged in Codex.] Battery: 2.7% Company Points: +2 XP: +20
Two harmless objects, two more logs for the Company. The System purred faintly in my chest, like it approved.
A stairwell waited at the end of the corridor. I leaned over the railing — darkness below, humming faintly with power. My Perception pulsed, a gentle warning.
Something glowed faintly near the landing: a small glass jar sitting perfectly centered on the bottom step.
[Anomalous Object Detected: "Contained Breath"] Property: Sealed air inside never depletes; pressure increases if held too long. Classification: C2 Low risk. Recover object? Y/N]
My fingers hovered above it.C3 meant risk — even a small one could overload my low battery.Still, the reward was tempting.
I grabbed it. The air around me pulsed once, pressure surging through my fingertips — then it vanished.
[Object absorbed. Logged in Codex.] Battery: 2.9% Company Points: +3 XP: +30
The building groaned faintly in response. Somewhere behind me, a door closed by itself.
I froze. did my Perception fail?— faint echoes at the edge of the corridor. Movement? Or the building shifting again?Nothing visible, but the air was thicker now, heavier with residual Rift energy.
I ducked into a laundry room and pulled the door shut, trying to steady my breathing. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed through the vents.On a nearby shelf sat something else: a pair of gloves, the leather cracked and darkened.
[Anomalous Object Detected: Maintenance Gloves "Reverse Grip"] Property: Anything gripped too tightly slips through as if intangible. Classification: C2 utility anomaly. Recover object? Y/N
A grin tugged at my lips. "Now that's actually useful."
Absorbed. Gone.
[Object absorbed. Logged in Codex.] Battery: 3.0% Company Points: +2 XP: +20
Status flickered.
[XP: 140 / 150] [1 Attribute Point available at next threshold.]
Almost there.
I rested a moment, crouched in the half-dark. The System's faint warmth kept the dread at bay. The Codex tab now shimmered faintly in my HUD, listing:
Plate — Breaks with Foil
Knife — 44° Cut
Jar — Contained Breath
Gloves — Reverse Grip
Each recorded, catalogued, sent to whatever cold archive the Company maintained.Each one erased from the world around me.
I wondered how many had already been taken — how much of this place was slowly being stripped bare by my hands alone.
Something thudded in the distance — metal on tile. I went still. The hum of lights faltered for a heartbeat, then steadied.
No movement. No sound. Just that endless, oppressive emptiness pressing close again.
I took a breath, stood, and began to move. More corridors awaited, more rooms to check, more anomalies to strip. The Company would want everything — and the System would grow stronger each time I fed it.
Still, beneath the mechanical calm of the interface, a part of me wondered:
If every object in this place was an anomaly…What counted as normal anymore?