The System didn't tell Elias when it marked him.
There was no alert.
No warning.
No sound.
The first sign something had changed was the silence.
The interface that had hovered at the edge of his perception—present even when inactive—was gone. Not dismissed. Not hidden.
Gone.
Elias noticed because the pressure behind his eyes eased, leaving a hollow absence where something had been watching.
He sat up slowly, testing his ribs. Pain flared, sharp but manageable. The hospital room looked the same: white walls, flickering lights, a chair pushed crookedly into the corner.
But the sense of being observed had shifted.
Less focused.
More… distributed.
Elias swung his legs off the bed.
Nothing stopped him.
No System advisory.
No safety warning.
No reminder to remain still.
That, more than anything, unsettled him.
He stood.
The floor was cold beneath his bare feet. Somewhere down the hall, a cart rattled. Voices murmured—too low to make out words.
Elias took a breath and thought deliberately:
Status.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, sharper this time.
Open Status Window.
Still nothing.
His pulse quickened.
"System," he said quietly.
Silence.
Not refusal.
Not error.
Absence.
Then—without warning—the interface snapped back into existence.
[STATUS WINDOW — LIMITED ACCESS]
The text was dimmer than before, edges slightly blurred, as if rendered through interference.
Name: Elias Crowe
Species: Human
Classification: ❓
The line where his status should have been was empty.
Below it, new text appeared.
Registry State: UNREGISTERED
Visibility Index: SUPPRESSED
Elias stared.
Unregistered.
The word carried weight—not accusation, not judgment.
Exclusion.
"What does that mean?" he asked.
The System responded—but not directly.
[NOTICE]Certain System functions are unavailable.
Reason: Registry mismatch.
"Mismatch with what?" Elias pressed.
A delay.
Longer this time.
[NOTICE]Subject does not meet pantheon enrollment criteria.
Enrollment.
The language was clinical. Bureaucratic.
"You said alignment was optional," Elias said.
No answer.
The Status Window updated on its own.
Pantheon Affinity: ❌ UNDETERMINED
Class: ❌ UNASSIGNED
Divinity Level: 0.01% (DORMANT)
Everything important remained blank.
Everything dangerous remained visible.
Elias felt it then—a subtle shift in the air, like static before a storm. Not divine pressure. Not yet.
Something closer.
Administrative.
A door opening somewhere he couldn't see.
[SYSTEM FLAG — INTERNAL]Anomaly detected.
Tracking priority: LOW
Low.
The word should have been comforting.
It wasn't.
Low meant later.
Low meant not urgent.
Low meant no one was watching closely.
Elias swallowed.
Outside his room, footsteps approached. Two sets. Measured. Unhurried.
Elias turned toward the door just as it opened.
Two men stepped inside.
They weren't doctors.
They wore no insignia. No uniforms. Just dark jackets, identical in cut, their expressions neutral in the way of people who believed neutrality was protection.
One of them smiled.
"Mr. Crowe," he said. "You're cleared for discharge."
Elias didn't move.
"I didn't ask to leave."
The smile didn't change.
"Current circumstances require flexibility," the man replied. "Hospitals are being reclassified."
"By who?"
A pause.
"By necessity."
The System flickered.
[NOTICE]External authority detected.
Classification: NON-PANTHEON
That was new.
"Am I in trouble?" Elias asked.
The second man finally spoke. His voice was calm. Practiced.
"No," he said. "You're just… unaccounted for."
Unaccounted.
The word matched unregistered too closely to be coincidence.
"We're here to make sure you leave safely," the first man continued. "Neutral zones are becoming unstable."
Elias met his eyes.
"And if I don't?"
The man's smile thinned.
"Then you become someone else's problem."
The Status Window pulsed once.
[SYSTEM ADVISORY]Recommendation: Comply
Risk Assessment: VARIABLE
Elias looked past them, down the hall.
A woman sat against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, rocking slightly. Her eyes were unfocused. A nurse spoke to her gently, voice shaking.
Above them, the ceiling cracked.
Just a hairline fracture.
But it hadn't been there before.
Elias exhaled.
"Give me a minute," he said.
The men exchanged a glance, then nodded.
"We'll be outside."
The door closed.
Elias sat back on the edge of the bed.
Unregistered meant no protection.
No claim.
No category.
It meant the System didn't know where to put him.
And systems hated loose ends.
He pulled on his jacket, fingers steady despite the ache in his ribs.
Stay small, he reminded himself.
Stay unseen.
The Status Window dimmed further, as if agreeing.
[SYSTEM NOTE — BACKGROUND PROCESS]Registry reconciliation scheduled.
Estimated time: UNKNOWN
Elias stood.
By the time the System figured out what he was—
He intended to be gone.