Chapter 3
The Absence Was Faster Than Fear
The first time Arun noticed it, he was already bleeding.
It wasn't a dramatic wound. Just a shallow cut along his forearm where broken glass had grazed him as he stumbled through a narrow side street. He hadn't even realized he'd been injured until he saw the red line forming on his skin.
What unsettled him wasn't the blood.
It was how quickly he'd moved before thinking.
No pause.
No instinctive recoil.
No internal debate.
His body reacted, and his mind arrived late.
Arun pressed his fingers against the cut, feeling the sting flare and then dull. Pain was still there—sharp, informative—but it didn't command him. It didn't demand attention the way it used to.
Hesitation really is gone, he thought.
The realization should have scared him.
It didn't.
That was worse.
The city had changed after his second death.
Or maybe Arun had.
Crowded places felt thinner now, like the space between people had widened. He noticed trajectories, angles, blind spots. He noticed who walked with tension in their shoulders and who moved like they owned the pavement.
Predators. Prey.
The categorization came uninvited.
He caught himself doing it and stopped, jaw tightening.
Don't, he told himself.
But the thought slipped away without resistance.
He didn't hesitate long enough to hold onto it.
Night fell fast.
Arun cut through an underpass to save time—one of those places everyone avoided, even during the day. Flickering lights cast uneven shadows across stained concrete walls. The smell of damp and rust clung to the air.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Three sets.
Too close.
Too fast.
"Hey," a voice called out. "Stop."
Arun didn't.
Not out of defiance.
Because stopping didn't occur to him.
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
Arun turned.
The motion was smooth, almost lazy. His elbow snapped upward into the man's jaw before fear could even register.
Bone cracked.
The man collapsed with a choked sound.
The other two froze for half a second—long enough for Arun to move again.
He picked up a loose brick from the ground and threw it.
No warning.
No shout.
It struck the second man's temple. He went down hard, skull hitting concrete with a wet sound.
The third ran.
Only then did fear finally catch up.
Arun stood there, chest heaving, staring at the bodies on the ground. One groaned weakly. The other didn't move.
His hands were shaking now.
Late.
So late.
"Oh god," Arun whispered.
He hadn't planned to fight.
He hadn't planned anything.
He'd just… acted.
The system did not speak.
That absence was deafening.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Reality crashed back in.
I killed them.
The thought arrived fully formed, heavy and undeniable.
Guilt surged—
Then stalled.
It was there, yes, but muted. Like a sound coming through thick walls.
Not enough to stop him.
Not enough to paralyze him.
Arun backed away, then turned and ran.
He didn't notice the van until it hit him.
Pain blossomed across his side as metal slammed into flesh. The world spun, lights blurring into streaks.
He hit the ground hard, air exploding from his lungs.
Someone shouted. Tires screeched.
Arun tried to move.
His body didn't respond.
The pain was too much now, finally overwhelming whatever changes had taken place.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.
Not like this, he thought weakly. Not without choosing.
A shadow loomed over him.
A man knelt down, face pale. "Stay with me," he said urgently. "Ambulance is coming."
Arun looked at him.
Really looked.
And in that moment, something terrifying happened.
He evaluated the man.
Weight.
Reach.
Threat level.
The analysis was automatic.
Inhumanly fast.
The man's voice blurred into noise.
This isn't me, Arun thought distantly.
Then the pain spiked again.
And the world cut out.
Designation: Arun
Status: Deceased
Cause: Traumatic Impact
Condition: Recurrent
No delay this time.
Reinstatement Protocol – Active
The process felt smoother. Less violent. Like a machine that had optimized itself.
Arun came back choking on air, hands clawing at the ground.
Rain soaked his clothes.
He was in the same underpass.
The bodies were gone.
So was the blood.
As if the world had been… reset.
Payment processed.
He felt it immediately.
A pressure lifting.
A weight gone.
Something important.
Human Component Removed: Guilt
Arun went still.
He waited for the horror.
For the revulsion.
For the crushing realization of what that meant.
It didn't come.
He understood guilt.
He knew what it was supposed to feel like.
But the emotion itself was absent.
Like remembering pain without hurting.
Record Updated
Deaths: 3
Loss Accumulation: Stable
Warning: Behavioral divergence increasing.
Arun pushed himself up slowly.
His hands were steady again.
He thought about the two men from before.
About the possibility that one of them might have died.
The thought produced no emotional response.
No nausea.
No regret.
Just… information.
"That's bad," he said aloud.
His voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
He walked out of the underpass and into the rain.
Sirens still echoed somewhere in the city, but none came close.
As he stepped onto the street, Arun realized something that chilled him far more than fear ever could.
If this had happened before—
If guilt had been taken first—
He might not have run.
He might not have cared who saw.
And if hesitation had gone after guilt…
He might have killed all three.
The order mattered.
Death wasn't just changing him.
It was sequencing him.
Building something step by step.
Arun looked up at the dark sky, rain dripping down his face.
"How many pieces until I'm not me anymore?" he asked softly.
The system answered.
Not with words.
But with silence.
And for the first time, Arun understood—
Silence was an answer.