The disk chimed at exactly midnight.
Kaito was awake when it happened.
He sat at a temporary safehouse Mina had arranged—an unremarkable apartment in a quiet district, sparsely furnished and aggressively anonymous. The windows were shuttered. The lights were low. A single suitcase sat unopened near the door, because unpacking felt like admitting permanence.
Aya's presence was more pronounced here. She had expanded her monitoring footprint, threading through local networks, traffic cameras, and electromagnetic noise with silent efficiency.
"You have not slept," she observed.
"I slept," Kaito replied. "Just not well."
"That qualifies as insufficient."
"So does getting robbed by the future," he said dryly.
The disk glowed brighter.
DAY 004 — SIGN-IN AVAILABLE
Kaito inhaled slowly.
This time, the interface didn't immediately present a reward.
Instead, it waited.
"That's new," Kaito muttered.
"Yes," Aya agreed. "System behavior has shifted. This suggests either escalation or evaluation."
"Comforting."
The disk responded.
EVALUATION CONDITION MET
REWARD TIER: STANDARD+
PRESENTING OPTIONS
Three panels unfolded in the air before him, each rendered with precise, clinical clarity.
OPTION ONE: AUTONOMOUS DEFENSE DRONE (PROTOTYPE)
A compact aerial platform capable of independent threat detection, electronic countermeasures, and limited lethal response.
OPTION TWO: AGRICULTURAL GROWTH CATALYST (REGIONAL)
A biochemical and logistical package designed to increase crop yields by up to 400% across a defined geographic area.
OPTION THREE: ARCADA ACCESS TOKEN — SCOUT CLASS
Limited-duration spatial transit authorization to an external world-class environment.
Kaito stared at the options.
The system did not hurry him.
"Analysis?" he asked quietly.
Aya responded immediately.
"Option One increases short-term survivability," she said. "It mitigates active threats and reduces dependency on human protection."
Kaito imagined it: a machine circling overhead, always watching, always ready to decide whether someone lived or died based on parameters he might not fully understand.
"Downside?"
"Escalation," Aya replied. "Defensive capability signals intent. Other actors may respond in kind."
Kaito nodded. "Arms race."
"Yes."
He turned to Option Two.
"And the catalyst?"
Aya paused slightly longer this time.
"Option Two produces immediate, visible benefit at population scale," she said. "Food security reduces social instability, improves political goodwill, and reframes you as a benefactor rather than a threat."
"That sounds like the right answer," Kaito said.
"However," Aya continued, "implementation requires cooperation with existing power structures. Control of distribution will not remain solely yours."
Kaito grimaced. "They'd take it. Or fight over it."
"Correct."
He looked at the third option.
Arcadia.
Just the name sent a faint shiver through him.
"And Option Three?"
Aya's avatar dimmed slightly.
"Option Three expands knowledge," she said. "It offers minimal immediate protection or goodwill. However, it provides access to non-terrestrial resources, technologies, and ecological systems."
"And risks?" Kaito asked.
"Unknown," Aya replied. "By definition."
Kaito leaned back against the couch, rubbing his temples.
Defense meant survival, but also fear.
Food meant hope, but also politics.
Arcadia meant answers—but no guarantees.
"Why these three?" he asked suddenly.
Aya hesitated.
"The system curates options aligned with bearer context," she said carefully. "Your recent actions emphasize exposure, technological leverage, and ethical hesitation."
"So it's testing me."
"Yes."
Kaito laughed quietly. "Figures."
He thought about the intruder on the balcony. About Mina's warning. About markets shaking at a grainy video.
He also thought about something else.
If this system could hand him a drone or rewrite agriculture overnight…
What kind of future did it expect him to build?
"Let's be honest," Kaito said. "If I take the drone, I survive longer. If I take the catalyst, I become useful. If I take Arcadia…"
"You become exploratory," Aya finished.
"No," Kaito said softly. "I become independent."
Aya did not contradict him.
Kaito stood and walked to the shuttered window. He imagined the city outside: millions of lives running on systems that were fragile, inherited, and taken for granted.
"I don't want to fight the present," he said. "And I don't want to rule it either."
He turned back to the hovering panels.
"I want to understand what comes next."
His finger hovered over Option Three.
"Final confirmation," the system prompted.
Aya spoke once more.
"Kaito," she said, her tone uncharacteristically careful. "This choice increases uncertainty beyond predictive tolerance. Your personal risk profile will worsen before it improves."
He smiled faintly.
"That's been true since Day One."
He tapped the panel.
The world folded.
There was no sensation of movement—only disassembly. Space peeled apart into layers of light and shadow. Kaito felt pressure everywhere and nowhere, as if reality itself were briefly checking his credentials.
Then—
He stood beneath a violet sky.
The air was warm and dense, rich with unfamiliar scents: mineral sweetness, sharp greenery, something metallic and alive. Towering plants surrounded him, their surfaces faintly luminescent, veins pulsing with slow, powerful rhythms.
Gravity felt… different. Not weaker. More forgiving.
"Kaito," Aya said, her voice steadier than he felt. "Temporal anchor stable. Environmental threat level: low to moderate."
He took a cautious step forward.
The ground responded.
The soil compressed, then subtly rebounded, as if aware of his weight. Nearby, a cluster of fern-like structures shifted orientation, leaves tilting toward him.
"It's reacting to me," Kaito whispered.
"Yes," Aya replied. "This biosphere is highly responsive. Possibly semi-sentient at the macro scale."
Kaito swallowed.
A distant sound echoed—deep, resonant, not quite a roar.
Aya highlighted the horizon.
"Scout duration remaining: ninety seconds," she said. "Recommend observational focus."
Kaito forced himself to breathe.
He knelt, scooping a handful of soil. It was warm. Alive. Energy readings spiked gently around his fingers.
"This world…" he murmured. "It could change everything."
"Affirmative," Aya said. "Provided you survive long enough to return."
Light flared.
The world collapsed inward.
Kaito stumbled as he reappeared in the apartment, heart pounding, lungs burning as if he had run for miles.
He fell onto the couch, laughing breathlessly.
"That was real," he said. "That was actually real."
"Yes," Aya replied. "Arcadia confirmed."
The disk chimed one final time.
OPTION CONFIRMED
WORLD ACCESS: ARCADA (SCOUT)
STREAK MAINTAINED
Kaito stared at the ceiling, chest rising and falling.
Somewhere beyond Earth, beyond politics and markets and fear, another world waited.
And he had chosen it.
Not power.
Not safety.
But possibility.
Outside the safehouse, the city slept.
The future, however, had already opened its door.