Jin stood in front of the mirror, studying his own reflection. He was in his mid-twenties, with short brown hair and tired gray eyes. He wore no beard — only a faint, barely visible stubble along the upper neck and under the chin.
He touched his throat. The red mark had almost faded, but the muscles still ached slightly, remembering the tightening pressure. The diner incident stayed with him.
Jin turned on the tap; the water trickled out weakly. He gathered enough in his hands and washed his face. A wave of cold flooded his skin. Droplets slid slowly down his cheeks as his eyes continued examining themselves in the mirror.
"The farther you are from death, the more fear it brings when it shows up again," Jin thought. "And even all past encounters never save you from that damned fear when death comes."
He felt split inside.
One part of him was relieved the meeting with Shanty had ended safely. Yes, not without trouble — but the information she gave outweighed the discomfort. Only the result mattered. Anything unpleasant, anything stressful, completely didn't matter.
His mission and the Echoverse dive tied to it — that was the game. Everything inside it was part of the game. Problems along the way were meaningless as long as they didn't mess with the goal.
But the other part scolded him for the fear, despised him for the carelessness. To him, it was a sign of weakness — the thing he hated most.
Jin had been in far worse situations. He had been in gunfights where storms of bullets, energy blasts, grenades, and rockets filled the air, each one able to end a human in an instant. He had been in close combat where sharp blades could slice him apart, stab through him, skewer his body like meat on sticks sold at any local asian stall.
All of that was far more dangerous, far more terrifying — the pain, the risk, the certainty of death.
So why… why did a simple attempt at choking him stir so many emotions?
"Another round of pointless self-digging," Jin said. He kept staring at himself in the mirror.
Water continued sliding down his skin. Some droplets were already rolling across his bare torso.
Jin was in optimal physical shape — his muscles were hard, conditioned, but moderate. They hid completely beneath his clothes, never breaking the figure of his body.
"I need a distraction," he thought and scratched the back of his head.
Suddenly, memories from the day before surfaced — from the moment after the scan had finished.
***
"It's dark," Jin thought.
He was levitating in a void — a space filled with nothing but darkness. A consuming, depthless abyss without a single hint of color. There was nothing around him. No outlines, no shapes, no source of light.
He wasn't even sure he existed inside this darkness. He could only feel himself — a faint tether to his consciousness, most of which was occupied by something else.
Deep in the void, something was present. A mysterious entity drifted through the abyss, its form slipping in and out of existence. Jin sensed it as both a part of him and something entirely alien — nothing like a human. An invisible eye, watching him while continuing its own work.
Relief seeped in. His connection to consciousness grew stronger. The darkness felt less suffocating, a lightness wrapped around him.
Finally, it seemed he was almost awake — the foreign presence in his mind had completely vanished.
"Anomaly scan completed," a female voice said.
Jin snapped back into reality. Sunlight from the small top window flooded his vision, blinding him. A rush of sensations crashed into him all at once. A violent burst of information slammed into his brain.
"Aargh…" he groaned.
Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Jin opened them fully. He was sitting on the floor, curled forward, back slumped, arms resting beside his legs. His neck was twisted to the right. He had spent ten hours frozen in that position.
When he tried to straighten up, a dull ache surged through his entire body. His tendons protested after holding such an unnatural posture for so long. Pushing through the pain, he stood and stretched, letting his muscles pull back into place.
"Scan report is ready. Would you like to see it?" Sola asked.
"Yes," Jin said. He felt the exhaustion of several sleepless nights suddenly lift from him.
An interface appeared before his eyes.
[Scan result]
[Internal objects found — 8.9 billion]
[External objects found — 4]
[Anomaly objects found — 2]
[Compatibility level — 60%]
"Warning. The compatibility level is sixty percent. Object behavior may show distortions. High caution is recommended during interaction," the voice said.
The scan confirmed Jin's initial suspicion. The chip he carried was an anomaly within the system — which meant it was a fragment of the key.
Originally, the key had been an external object. The defensive system created the Echoverse to guard it. After constructing the world, an additional program changed the key's nature, splitting it into several parts.
This made the search far more complicated—and required work at the intersection of echochip technology and traditional coding.
The military can not possess that kind of technology.
Horrible thoughts began creeping into Jin's mind — questions about who might be behind the chip. He knew that anyone capable of writing code that could change the Echoverse reality was extremely dangerous. What if the true owners of the chip came for it after the job was done? Did Cherry even know the client's real motives?
"It doesn't matter. I have work to do," Jin told himself.
He steadied his thoughts. He must meet Shanty as soon as possible.
"Warning. The compatibility level is sixty percent. Object behavior may show distortions. High caution is recommended during interaction," Sola repeated.
"Yeah, I know. Still not critical," Jin said. "Compatibility level options — disable voice warnings."
"Voice warnings for the Compatibility Level parameter are disabled," the voice replied, then fell silent.
The interface of the scan report remained open.
Jin reached into his jacket and felt for the comm-glasses. Putting them on, he opened Shanty's contact. Time to confirm the date and place of the meeting.
She picked up almost instantly.
"Hi, Jin! How's it going?" her bright voice rang out.
"Hey, Shanty. It's about our meeting," Jin said.
"Oh, you mean our date?" she teased.
"Yeah. The date is tonight at 20:00. Sending you the coordinates."
A message panel appeared in the glasses' display, showing the location — the diner by the highway. From what Jin remembered, it was a good place.
"What? Ugh, I haven't even accepted your offer," she complained.
"I hope you're not planning to miss all the delicious things I'm about to treat you to. Remember, it is FOR FREE," Jin said, putting extra weight on the last words.
"Eh… I don't know, hmm…" Shanty muttered, sounding torn.
"Listen. First — spontaneity is romantic, and I know you love that kind of thing. Second—"
As Jin continued convincing her, the interface flickered. One value shifted.
[Compatibility level — 59%]
***
"Well, the meeting would likely to end in a bloody shootout." thought Jin. The last thing he needed to do was get the chip from Hog. Negotiating with that aggressive, stubborn brute was no easy task. Jin didn't feel like playing mind games with him either — the man was far too dense for that. Force seemed like the most effective method.
"Warning. Remaining immersion time — 23 hours, 16 minutes," Sola announced.
He stepped out of the bathroom and walked toward the nightstand by the bed. He drew the revolver from the holster strapped to his right thigh.
It was a heavy, coal-black piece of engineering. Its frame was built from reinforced alloy; the barrel was thick and squared, giving it an industrial, almost mechanical presence. The grip was molded for control, wrapped in textured polymer that fit the hand perfectly. No decorative etchings, no shine — just pure, functional precision. Everything about it suggested reliability and brute stopping power.
The revolver was in exquisite condition — you could easily believe that it was manufactured yesterday.
But that wasn't true.
If you looked closely at the frame near the cylinder, you'd notice something unusual: there was no serial number. Not scratched off, not erased — it had simply never been printed.
Highly uncharacteristic of such an elite, high-class weapon.
With a quick motion, Jin popped open the cylinder, letting it slide free. He pulled out one of several modular cylinder loaders from the small pocket of his jacket. The jacket lay nearby, half hanging off the bed, pressed down by two crates of 12mm rounds.
Using the loader, he swiftly emptied the spent rounds from the cylinder and inspected each one. Then he reloaded the revolver.
Gripping it firmly with his right hand, Jin spun the cylinder a few times. The familiar weight — long since comforting — settled into his palm. He holstered the weapon, then loaded each remaining cylinder loader with fresh rounds.
Jin checked the time. 9:37 am.
Throwing on his outerwear, he ran a last check of all equipment: the weapon, ammunition, a couple of stim-medkits, and of course — the chip.
After standing still for a few seconds, something nagged at him. He reached into the inner right pocket of his jacket and felt the comm-glasses. The touch activated the display, bringing up the latest notifications — which Jin didn't notice.
"Everything's in place," he confirmed, heading toward the exit.
The glasses' display kept glowing, showing a single notification.
"8 missed calls from Shanty De Lorean."