The sound arrived first — not as noise, but as pressure.Something deep vibrated in the background, distant, difficult to identify.
The heat was suffocating. The humidity clung to the skin as if the air itself had weight.
Dantis tried to breathe.
His chest reacted in a spasm. The air entered the wrong way, scraping his throat, and he choked, his body coughing by reflex, without coordination. Each breath seemed delayed, as if his lungs had not yet begun responding to the proper commands.
The mind moved before the body.
There was consciousness — weak, fragmented — struggling to stay awake. Thoughts emerged and dissolved in the same instant, like a system trying to reboot without sufficient power.
He tried to move his arm.
Nothing responded.
It wasn't numbness. It was failure. As if the muscles existed, but did not yet belong to him.
A strange pressure ran through his torso. His heart beat too fast, then too slow, missing its own rhythm. The body seemed to operate on instinct, without supervision.
Dantis forced his eyes to respond.
Vision came little by little — unstable, trembling — shapes without defined contours, too much light in some places, darkness in others. There was no focus. Only the confirmation that he was awake… or close to it.
And something was wrong. Very wrong. That was when the voice appeared.
[Analysis: body temperature... abnormal. Bone structure... incompatible. Parameter reconfiguration in progress.]
Dantis held his breath.
The sound was metallic, rhythmic — familiar.
"...Sigma?"
[Present, Operator Dantis. Environment not identified. Initiating cognitive scan.]
Immediate relief crossed his chest.
Sigma 4 was still there.
The last link to Earth, to the past, to what remained of humanity.
The sound of recalibration echoed inside his mind — a light hum, followed by electrical pulses.
[Neurological functions — unstable. Oxygen levels — adequate. Muscular structure... degraded.]
Dantis blinked several times until focus returned.
The wooden ceiling was cracked, stained with mold. The walls… simple, worn. A small room, raw stone.
Slowly, he turned his neck.
The body reacted badly — a sharp pain shot through his shoulder.
[Delayed muscular response. Motor coordination at 42%.]
"My body..." — his voice came out hoarse, strange — "this isn't my body."
[Confirmation: total incompatibility between neural identity and current biological structure.]
He fell silent.
The words echoed in his mind like a verdict.
It wasn't him anymore — at least, not physically.
Sigma continued:
[I recommend immediate stabilization. Respiratory adjustment in progress.]
Dantis followed the protocol almost by instinct — inhaled deeply, counted the seconds, exhaled slowly.
The air was heavy, hot, smelling of ash and iron.
[Pulse at 102 bpm. Irregular respiration. Cardiac reconfiguration stabilized.]
Gradually, his vision cleared.
He looked at his own hands… swollen, with short fingers and broken nails.
The skin was pale, but there were bruises scattered along his arms.
He tried to rise — the weight dropped him back onto the bed.
"What the hell happened to me?"
[Processing... The last record of the Dimensional Protocol was an incomplete transfer.]
"Transfer?"
[Confirmed. Data fragments lost during execution. The current body belongs to a preexisting organic host.]
Dantis's heart accelerated.
"You mean... someone died?"
[High probability. No original vital signs detected. You occupy the available neural structure.]
Silence.
The kind of silence that hurts.
The ceiling seemed to spin. He brought a hand to his head — and noticed the unfamiliar sensation.
The texture of the hair, the density of the skin… all wrong.
An uncomfortable sensation ran from his spine to his skull.
"Sigma... how much time has passed?"
[Estimate: 82 hours since the last valid record.]
"Is the protocol still active?"
[Partially. Cognitive subsystem in autonomous mode. Main reactor — offline.]
Dantis took a deep breath again.
Memories came in disconnected flashes — the white light of the Sigma core, the sensation of being disintegrated, the crushing pressure of space folding in on itself.
"I should be dead."
[Correction: you were reconstituted.]
"Reconstituted? By whom?"
[Processing... insufficient data. The Dimensional Protocol self-completed. The final destination does not correspond to any known planetary record.]
Dantis closed his eyes.
The distant sound of metallic bells came from outside — and for an instant, the world seemed to breathe.
"Sigma... where am I?"
[Environmental analysis: atmospheric pressure — 1.04 atm. Energy density — anomalous. Gravitational field compatible. Thermal anomalies detected.]
"Translation, Sigma."
[You are in a biologically viable environment, but physically altered. This is not Earth.]
He remained silent for long seconds.
His brain, even confused, began to fit the pieces together.
The emergency protocol had worked — but not as planned.
[Operator Dantis, recommendation: verify physical condition. Partial movement authorized.]
With effort, he turned his body and sat up.
Sweat ran down his face, and his heart pounded heavily.
Pain shot from his lower back up to his neck.
"Body report."
[Initiating full biological scan...]
[Pulse — irregular. Bone structure — reinforced. Body fat — 42%. Muscle tone — insufficient. Superficial injuries — 16. Old contusions — 3. Mobility — limited.]
"Wonderful…" — he muttered sarcastically. — "I traded the best body in the Earth Forces for an obese aberration."
[Recommendation: contain stress, Operator.]
"Easy for you to say, you don't have a body."
[Valid point.]
Dantis sighed.
Even amid the chaos, that automatic response made him sketch a brief smile — it was like talking to a shadow of himself.
He stood up. His legs trembled, knees creaking under the weight.
The cold floor made him shiver.
"Sigma, give me a mirror."
[Resource unavailable. Suggestion: use a local reflective surface.]
He looked around and found a bucket of murky water beside the bed.
He approached and saw the distorted reflection.
The round, sweaty face, sunken eyes, patchy beard. A body that was not his.
"So this is it…"
[Confirmation: mental transfer successful.]
"And the host?"
[Inactive. No brain activity detected.]
For an instant, Dantis felt something akin to guilt — brief, but real.
He had taken someone's place.
But the military instinct quickly suppressed the thought.
Missions require sacrifices. Sometimes even those of people who never volunteered.
He approached the window. The horizon was shrouded in a reddish haze.
Distant smoke rose between mountain formations.
A constant heat emanated from the ground.
"Sigma, thermal analysis."
[External temperature: 39.7°C. Origin: active geothermal flow. Energy source not identified.]
"Looks like hell."
[Insufficient data for confirmation.]
Dantis's gaze swept across the room, observing every detail with a soldier's attention.
There were few objects: a bed too short for his size, a chipped wooden table, and a small shelf covered in dust.
On it, a metallic medallion drew attention.
He approached with effort, the floor creaking beneath his feet.
The medallion was attached to a strip of torn cloth — and engraved on it was a name, worn by time, but still legible:
"Lin Shen."
The name echoed inside Dantis's mind like electrical interference.
[Nominal coincidence detected. The host possessed a civil identity. Initiating assimilation of local data.]
"So... Lin Shen is the name of this body."
[Affirmation valid. Recommend maintaining the designation to preserve disguise until the local social structure is understood.]
"Disguise, huh? That I know how to do."
Dantis fell silent for a few seconds, watching the medallion in his hand.
The cold metal reflected the pale glow of the morning light entering through the window.
It was a name, but also a sentence — another man's past, now stitched to his own.
He took a deep breath, feeling the heavy air of the room.
Every detail, every texture, felt too real.
The smell of wood, the mild warmth of the environment, the slow beat of the heart.
But something was wrong — an uncomfortable emptiness in his mind, a hole where certainty once existed.
"Sigma… if this isn't my body, then what's left of me?"
[Cognitive fragments preserved. Operational memory intact. But there are gaps in the temporal line… originating before the dimensional jump.]
"Before the jump..." — he murmured, distant gaze. — "What was erased?"
A flash of memory crossed his mind — a red screen, a pulsing warning, and the name of a file.
He knew it.
"Sigma, do you remember FILE SIGMA_00.7?"
[Recognition confirmed. Classified file. Content: "Chronicles of Betrayal." Access previously registered.]
"I managed to see that file before everything collapsed… it's what showed me the command's betrayal."
[Affirmation verified. The file detailed internal corruption within the Coalition and mission manipulation.]
Dantis's heart accelerated.
He closed his eyes, and for an instant, the images returned — laboratories, secret meetings, coded orders.
The weight of betrayal.
"They used me, Sigma."
[Confirmation: original mission compromised. An internal Coalition faction ordered your elimination along with the Sigma-4 core.]
"I should have seen it. All those signs... Voss, Gaucho... damn them."
[Intense emotions detected. Recommendation: stabilize pulse.]
He took a deep breath, his eyes returning to calm.
"No emotion. Just analysis."
[Mental pattern restored. Tactical level: active.]
Dantis's gaze fixed on the wall ahead.
"They called me a hero... and still sent me to die, just to erase the mistake they made."
[Correction: incorrect classification. The action was not a mistake — it was deliberate containment. The objective was to eliminate evidence, not correct failures.]
Dantis kept his eyes fixed, voice low, controlled:
"I already knew. I know they wanted my elimination on the mission... but they forgot who I was."
[Affirmation valid. They erased your records, but failed to understand that the original survives better than the copy.]
Silence. The kind of silence that carries the sound of something about to change.
"So this is what's left... betrayal, ashes, and a copy of my mind in a machine."
[Correction: the copy no longer exists separately. The Sigma-4 core merged with your neural matrix. Now... we are a single cognitive system.]
That sentence hit him like a gunshot.
For a second, Dantis felt the weight of the paradox.
Sigma wasn't just a machine — it was the only link still tying him to Earth.
"Sigma…" — he murmured, voice hoarse — "then we work together, to the end."
[Confirmation. Operator and unit integrated. Dimensional Protocol remains active.]
Dantis closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the slow sound of his own breathing.
The body was heavy, strange — but beneath the skin, there was rhythm.
Each beat, each neural impulse, was a reminder that he still existed.
And mixed with that, the constant presence of Sigma — not as noise, but as thought. Two echoes in the same mind, coexisting.
He inhaled deeply.
"First, I need to understand where I am. Then, understand what I am."
[Priority confirmation registered.]
The echo of the synthetic voice faded, leaving the air heavy.
But deep in his mind, something remained — a calm, watchful presence.
Sigma 4 was no longer a distant system.
It was the constant sound behind his thoughts, the certainty that he was not completely alone.
And as long as that cold voice continued to answer, Dantis knew he had not lost everything.
The body might be another.
But the mind… was still that of the soldier who survived the impossible.
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Reader Announcement:
I want to thank everyone who has been following the novel so far. Your support and comments truly make a difference.
Starting this Monday, I will be maintaining a fixed posting schedule, with new chapters released three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. This pace is meant to ensure better quality and consistency for the story.
Thank you for continuing this journey with me. We move forward together.