Rayan didn't remember leaving the quarry.
Noise. Just… noise. Like every half-formed thought in his skull got thrown into a tin can and somebody shook it until it rattled his teeth. Mina yelling his name—sharp, worried. Torren yelling something filthier. Sky acting all innocent blue again, like it hadn't just tried to murder them all and was now holding the biggest grudge in the atmosphere.
Then—nothing. Then waking up flat on his back with a headache that felt like it personally hated him.
He groaned. Rolled. Immediately regretted every life choice that led to movement. World sloshed sideways. Testing him. Always testing him.
"Okay," he muttered to nobody. "No spinning today. Not on the agenda. We're done with that shit."
"Don't move," Mina said somewhere above. Voice flat. "Puke on me and I actually stab you. Not kidding."
One eye cracked open. There she was. Arms crossed. Dirt streaked down one sleeve like war paint. Hair doing that post-chaos exploded thing. Looked like the night had personally insulted her too.
Torren loomed nearby. Leaning on his stupid broom. Face saying he was done with this entire dimension.
Rayan let out a breath that hurt. "I lived. Small victories, right?"
Torren snorted. "Barely."
He pushed up. Slowly. Halfway his brain screamed no. Paused. Breathed through it.
"Is the giant murder machine still dead?"
Mina hesitated. Just a second too long.
"Dead… feels optimistic," she said.
"Powered down," Torren corrected. "For now."
Rayan nodded—winced—another nausea wave. Brain felt packed in wet wool. Rootkit pulsing at the corners. Quiet. Too quiet. Still there though. Always still there.
"Don't tell me," he whispered. "It's still talking."
Mina's eyebrow went up. "Never stopped."
Great. Fantastic. Really helping the vibe.
Dawn dragged itself over the horizon like it was hungover too. They walked. Rayan sandwiched between Mina and Torren again—balance reasons, also because standing solo felt like tempting fate after reality just French-kissed him with violence.
Quiet stretched. Long. Uncomfortable.
Torren finally coughed. "So. Interface."
Rayan made a face. "I'd rather be consultant. Sounds less… indentured."
Mina side-eyed him hard. "You don't get to pick when the universe hands you the job."
He laughed. Weak. Cracked at the edges. "That's unfairly accurate. Damn it."
Village was already buzzing when they got there. People in tight knots in the square. Voices low, angry, scared. Everyone glancing up at the sky like it might pull another stunt just to spite them.
Lessa by the inn. Arms crossed so tight her knuckles were white. Jaw locked. Face of someone who hadn't slept and was currently auditioning people to blame.
She saw them. Strode over. Pointed straight at Rayan.
"You. Explain."
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
"Okay so there's this… alien observation system."
Lessa stared.
"And it thinks I work for it now," he added. Smaller.
Lessa stared harder.
Torren patted her shoulder like that would help. "He's not joking."
She looked between the three of them. Long exhale. "I liked it better when the worst problem was bad harvests and Torren's cooking."
Torren bristled instantly. "That stew was fine."
"People cried," Lessa said.
Rayan scrubbed his face with both hands. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to escalate."
Lessa's eyes narrowed. "You mean you didn't mean to catch the attention of a star-sized machine."
"Yes," he said. "Exactly that."
She studied him. Long. Then another sigh—deeper.
"Inside. We talk before panic really catches."
Common room filled fast. Villagers packing in. Whispering. Staring at Rayan like he might combust spontaneously. Halvek at the back, arms folded, eyes too bright—fear and fascination doing a weird tango.
Rayan stood by the hearth. Felt every gaze like static.
"Okay," he started. Stopped. Tried again. "Last night sucked. Worse than I thought. There's a system watching this world. Old. Left bits behind. Bits are waking up."
Someone muttered, "Like ghosts."
"More like servers," Rayan said on reflex. Winced. "Sorry. Machines that don't know when to quit."
Mina folded her arms tighter. "And he made it notice us."
"Yeah," Rayan said. Quiet. "That part's on me."
Murmur rose. Fear. Anger. Equal parts.
Halvek stepped forward. "You endangered us."
Rayan met his eyes. "It already had us endangered. I just yanked the curtain."
Halvek sneered. "So that makes you the hero."
"No." Soft. "Makes me responsible."
That actually shut Halvek up. For like two seconds.
Lessa cut in. "So what now."
Rayan breathed. "Now we figure out what it wants. And how to keep it from deciding this place is… inefficient."
That word landed like spit in the punch bowl.
Torren spoke low. "And if it does."
Rayan's mouth twisted. "Then I break it. Or at least talk it out of breaking you."
Mina snorted. "Comforting."
He glanced at her. "I'm open to suggestions."
"I stab things," she said. "That's the whole list."
Nervous laughs rippled. Tension dropped maybe a millimeter.
Halvek still watching. Too close. "You're not from here."
"No."
"And yet it speaks to you."
"Yes."
His eyes gleamed. "Then maybe you shouldn't be allowed to leave."
Room went dead quiet.
Mina's hand slid toward her knife. "Careful."
Halvek raised a palm. "Protection."
Rayan swallowed. "Sounds a lot like a cage."
Before Halvek could answer—
Rootkit flared.
ALERT: Incoming transmission.
PRIORITY: Elevated.
SOURCE: Observer System.
Rayan sucked air. "It's calling."
Lessa stared. "Here."
He nodded slow. "Doesn't do privacy."
Eyes closed. Focused inward. Rootkit cracked the channel—just enough.
World smeared. Room layered. Symbols sliding over reality like oil. System pressed in—vast, cold. But this time… curiosity. Flickering.
"Interface," it said. Not sound. Just inside. "Assessment ongoing."
Rayan swallowed. "Hi. Again."
"Local resistance observed. Variable instability increasing."
Headache building already. "You mean people are scared."
"Fear acknowledged. Fear does not alter outcomes."
Jaw clenched. "It does when it turns into rebellion."
Pause. Longer.
"Rebellion probability rising. Intervention required."
Heart kicked. "Define intervention."
Before it could—
Something else. Sharp. Sudden. Knife tapping glass inside his skull.
Rootkit spasmed. Warnings too fast to read.
ERROR: Unauthorized access detected.
SOURCE: Unknown.
PRIORITY: Critical.
Rayan gasped. Stumbled. Mina caught him.
"Rayan—what the hell—"
He barely registered her.
New voice. Rougher. Almost amused.
"Well," it said. "That is interesting."
Breath hitched. "Who are you."
"Oh," it purred. Way too pleased. "I was wondering when someone else would notice."
System snapped back. "Foreign entity detected. Classification unknown."
Vision swam with clashing symbols. Logic grinding on logic.
New voice laughed. "You left your doors wide open. Do you know how rare that is."
Rayan clenched fists. Fighting black at the edges. "Get out of my head."
Thoughtful hum. "No. I don't think I will."
Mina shouting—distant. Warped. Torren's pale face swimming close.
"Rayan—talk to us—"
Forced eyes open. "There's something else," he rasped. "Another… thing. Not the observer."
System sharp now. Urgent. "Interface compromised. Threat escalation detected."
New voice chuckled. "Threat. Such an ugly word."
Heart hammering. "You're not with it."
"No," it said. "I'm with you. Or I could be."
Rayan laughed—hysterical, weak. "Not reassuring."
It leaned closer. Felt too intimate. Skin-crawling close.
"You broke the rules," it whispered. "I like that. Been stuck watching for a long time."
Swallowed hard. "Watching what."
"Failures," it said. "Worlds that didn't fit the plan."
Rootkit screamed.
WARNING: Multiple hostile systems detected.
STATUS: Overloaded.
Vision tunneling. Control slipping. Two giants arguing over him like he was spare parts.
Mina's voice sliced through. "Stay with me, idiot."
He grabbed that. Her grip. The floor under him. Being human. Smell of woodsmoke and sweat in the room—random, stupid detail his brain clung to.
"I'm still here," he whispered. "I think."
New voice sighed. Almost fond. "This is going to be fun."
System cold. Final. "Containment authorized."
Air hummed. Same quarry vibration. Rising fast.
Whatever just noticed him wasn't alone.
And for the first time since he crash-landed in this stupid world, Rayan understood—he wasn't the only glitch anymore.
Shit.