Airi barely sleeps. Every time she drifts close, the memory of the boy in the west wing flashes behind her eyes—his smile too smooth, his gaze too calm, the way his irises had glitched like corrupted pixels. Even now, in the quiet haze before dawn, her System hums with a nervous static she hasn't seen before.
Overnight Notifications (2) • Stress levels elevated • Advisory: Avoid solo interaction with Unknown User
Airi sits upright. "Yeah," she whispers. "I'll keep that in mind."
But the warning doesn't fade. It lingers like the ghost of a threat.
She gets ready faster than usual. Her hands tremble as she buttons her uniform. She keeps expecting another red alert, something telling her she's already too late, but the System remains in that uneasy, hovering state—watchful, tense.
Outside, the sky is pale gold. She walks to the station with the sensation of being observed. Not by people. By probabilities. By invisible algorithms weighing her next mistake.
When she steps onto the train, the doors close behind her with a metallic sigh.
Then a flicker.
System Distortion Detected Source: Nearby User
Airi stiffens. She scans the crowded car. Office workers. Students. A woman with a stroller. No red shimmer. No pixelated eyes.
Another notification forms.
Threat Level: Low—passive interference.
She breathes again. Only partially.
The train pulls into the city center. Airi exits quickly, joining the morning rush. She heads toward school with her head down. But halfway across the courtyard, the System chimes.
Daily Quest: Maintain composure. Reward: +1 Discipline
"Seriously?" she mutters. "You're giving me points for not having a panic attack now?"
The System, infuriatingly, sparkles.
Mina spots her at the shoe lockers. "Why do you look like someone told you midterms got moved to today?"
Airi hesitates. She can't talk about the boy. Not yet. "Just tired."
Mina narrows her eyes. "Airi. I know your 'tired' face. This is your 'I saw something supernatural and I'm pretending I didn't' face."
Airi nearly chokes. "Wh—what kind of face is that?!"
"You tell me!"
Before Airi can reply, a soft knock against the locker door makes both of them turn.
Ren Takamine.
He isn't smiling. That alone sends a chill down Airi's spine.
"Kisaragi," he says quietly. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
Mina looks between them and whispers, "If he confesses to you, I swear I will fling myself into traffic."
Airi flushes. "That's—no! Stop!"
But Ren is already waiting.
She follows him into an empty corridor, her System vibrating with caution.
"Two things," Ren says. "First: there was an unauthorized System fluctuation detected near the west wing yesterday afternoon. You were in that area."
Airi's breath catches. "I—yes, but—"
"Second," he continues, eyes narrowing slightly. "Your rank changed again this morning."
She freezes. "It—did?"
He nods.
Rank: 137
Airi swallows. She didn't even notice.
Ren watches her carefully, as if trying to see through her.
"Airi Kisaragi," he says, "Systems don't shift that fast without input. And anomalies don't appear without cause."
She forces herself to meet his eyes. "Are you accusing me of something?"
"Not yet," Ren answers. But his expression is tense. Thoughtful. As if he's assembling pieces of a puzzle he isn't sure he should touch.
Before he can say more, a sudden, sharp crackle fills the hallway.
Airi's vision distorts.
Emergency Alert: External Interference Classification: High Source: Unknown User Distance: 25 meters
Ren straightens. "You felt that too." It isn't a question.
Airi nods.
The hallway lights flicker. Students gasp down the corridor. A ripple of digital noise sweeps through the air, like someone is tearing the rendering of reality.
Then a voice echoes through the intercom—except it isn't the school's intercom.
System Message Override
Airi's blood runs cold.
The air in front of them twists, and a holographic window forms—cold, silver, unfamiliar.
Unauthorized User Requesting Contact Identity: Redacted
Ren steps in front of Airi. "This shouldn't be possible," he mutters.
A heartbeat later, the same boy from yesterday appears at the corner of the hall.
He walks toward them with calm, measured steps.
The red warning in Airi's vision spikes.
Unknown User Approaching Threat Level: Moderate–High
Ren's stance shifts. Controlled. Defensive.
The boy stops several feet away. "Kisaragi," he says politely. "You left before we could finish our conversation."
Ren's eyes sharpen. "You know her?"
Airi stumbles over her words. "N—not really—"
The boy smiles, that same too-smooth curve of lips. "We've been observing her progress for quite some time."
Airi's heart stutters.
Ren moves slightly, placing himself between them. "State your name. And your System classification."
The boy tilts his head. "Name? Not relevant. Classification? Higher than yours."
A spike of static shivers across the corridor.
Ren's interface flickers—just once—but the shock of it flashes across his face. Something disrupted his data.
No one ever disrupts Ren's System.
Airi's breath shakes.
"What do you want?" she forces out.
The boy's eyes meet hers. Briefly, they glitch again.
"You," he says simply.
Her heartbeat skids.
"Your data signature is… unusual," he continues. "Your System trajectory deviates from all projected baselines. And you've been assigned a Main Quest beyond standard parameters."
Ren turns toward her. His voice is low, urgent. "Kisaragi. What quest?"
Airi can't answer. She physically can't. The System blocks her attempt.
Silence Restriction Active Topic: Main Quest Duration: Undefined
"Hm," the boy says softly. "They're locking you down already? That was fast."
Ren steps forward. "Enough. If you're responsible for the anomaly yesterday—"
"I am many things," the boy interrupts. "Responsible is optional."
The atmosphere tightens. The lights dim.
A pulse of raw System energy surges between Ren and the boy, as if their very presence destabilizes each other.
Airi's interface goes wild.
Warning: System Conflict Detected Risk: High Outcome: Unpredictable
The boy raises a hand—casually, almost gently.
Airi feels the air bend.
Ren reacts instantly, pulling her back as a ripple of distortion crashes into the space where she stood a moment before. The floor tiles crack. A panel of the digital UI embedded in the wall shatters like glass.
Students scream. Doors slam. The corridor erupts into chaos.
"What are you doing?!" Airi cries.
The boy doesn't look sorry even slightly. "Testing."
Ren's voice is cold. Controlled fury. "One more step and you'll regret it."
"Possibly," the boy says. "But she won't."
Airi's pulse spikes. "Stop involving me in—whatever this is!"
The boy's expression softens in a way that terrifies her more than anything else. "Airi Kisaragi isn't being involved. Airi Kisaragi was chosen."
Airi shakes her head. "Chosen for what?"
The boy steps back.
"To survive what's coming."
A shockwave bursts outward—not dangerous, but blinding. Airi shields her eyes. Ren does too.
When the light fades—the boy is gone.
Airi's System slowly stabilizes.
Ren exhales tightly. "Kisaragi. We need to talk. Now."
But before they can even move, her System pings.
Main Quest Priority Update Branch Unlocked: Crossfire Protocol New Objective: Identify allegiance of Unknown User
Airi's legs feel weak.
Ren steadies her. "Airi. Whatever is happening—you're in the middle of it. You can't hide from it anymore."
She looks up at him.
No glitching eyes. No static. Just concern.
Her voice cracks. "I never asked for any of this."
Ren's grip on her shoulder firms slightly. "Most people don't ask to change the world."
Airi swallows hard.
The System hums. Waiting. Watching. Waiting.
And even though the hallway is quiet now, Airi knows nothing about her life is going back to normal. Not after the boy. Not after the anomaly. Not after that message:
You were chosen.
She just doesn't know if that makes her lucky—or doomed.