Kayden didn't move for a long time after the system vanished.
The room slowly returned to its ordinary hum—the refrigerator ticking softly, the distant murmur of traffic rising up from the street, the city resuming its indifferent rhythm.
But nothing inside him was ordinary anymore.
His hands rested on his knees, fingers curled slightly, as if he were afraid they might tremble if he loosened them. His thoughts were a quiet storm—contained, but impossible to ignore.
Commander.Synchronization complete.More breaches coming.
Every word echoed in his skull like a weight.
He had seen impossible things.He had survived what he shouldn't.He had awakened something he never asked for.
And now the world was watching him back.
A sudden knock at the door shattered the silence.
Three knocks—firm, familiar.
Kayden's breath tightened.
Not the system.Not danger.
Someone human.
Someone from the life he still pretended to have.
He hesitated a heartbeat, then stood and walked toward the door.
Another knock. "Kayden? You there? It's me."
A voice filled with concern.Worried.Too perceptive for comfort.
His closest friend.
Kayden unlocked the door.
A young man stepped inside without waiting—hair messy from running, chest rising sharply as if he'd sprinted up the stairs, eyes scanning Kayden's face the moment he entered.
"You're alive," he exhaled, relief flooding his features. "Thank God."
Kayden blinked. "…Why wouldn't I be?"
His friend stared at him like he didn't believe the question."You were in that metro incident."
Kayden froze.
"How do you—?"
"It's everywhere," his friend said, pulling out his phone with trembling fingers. "News alerts, social feeds, live videos. 'Unidentified guy tackles shooter on morning train.' You fit the description almost exactly."
Kayden's stomach sank.
His friend stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Be honest with me. Were you there?"
Kayden didn't answer immediately.
He didn't lie.He didn't confirm.
He simply… existed in the silence.
And that was enough.
His friend's expression shifted—worry deepening, eyes softening.
"Kayden… what happened?"
Kayden opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
How did he explain something he barely understood?How did he describe frozen raindrops, fractures in the sky, a system whispering his bloodline, or the way he felt the world bend seconds before the gun appeared?
He couldn't.
He wasn't even sure speaking the truth out loud was safe.
His friend noticed the pause.He always noticed.
"I know you don't want to talk," he said quietly. "But you look like you're carrying something heavy. Heavier than normal."
Kayden lowered his gaze.
Normal.That word didn't belong to him anymore.
His friend stepped closer, voice gentler.
"Just tell me this much—are you okay?"
Kayden let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"I don't know," he admitted softly.
His friend's shoulders loosened—relief at honesty, even if it wasn't much.
"That's fine," he said. "You don't have to explain anything. You don't owe me details. I just…" He hesitated. "…didn't want you to go through whatever happened alone."
Something warm flickered in Kayden's chest—small, surprising.
It had been a long time since anyone said something like that to him.
His friend glanced around the room, noticing the slight shift in air—like the atmosphere had only recently settled after something intense.
"Were you… thinking about it?" he asked carefully. "The attack?"
Kayden nodded once.
His friend sighed and dropped onto the chair by the desk.He didn't push. Didn't pry.Just… stayed.
Seconds passed.Then minutes.
The kind of silence only close friends can sit in.
Kayden finally spoke.
"It wasn't supposed to happen."
"What wasn't?"
Kayden swallowed.
"I just… reacted."
His friend nodded slowly, understanding enough without needing details.
"You always do," he said softly. "When something dangerous happens, you don't freeze. You don't run. You just… move."
Kayden's breath hitched.
Those words struck deeper than expected.
As if they were confirming something the system already sensed.
As if his friend saw a truth in him long before the activation.
The room dimmed as clouds drifted across the evening sky.Shadows stretched lazily across the floor.
His friend leaned back, studying him.
"You're different today."
Kayden stiffened.
"Not bad different," his friend clarified. "Just… distant. Like you're listening to something I can't hear."
Kayden's pulse stumbled.
His friend continued, voice gentle but sharp in the way only someone who truly knew him could be:
"If something is happening to you…If something changed…Tell me when you're ready. I'll believe you."
Kayden looked at him.
Really looked.
Past the worry.Past the frustration.Past the attempt to understand the impossible.
There was loyalty there.Unshakable.Unconditional.
That scared him more than the system.
Because loyalty was dangerous in a world that might be unraveling.
Kayden exhaled quietly.
"…Thank you."
His friend smiled faintly. "Good. That's all I needed."
A small silence settled again, lighter this time.
His friend pushed himself up.
"I'm not leaving you alone tonight," he said simply. "I'll sleep on the floor. Or the chair. Whatever. Just… don't argue."
Kayden almost did.
But another tremor brushed the air—so faint he wasn't sure it was real.A whisper of static.A shift, like something invisible turning its attention toward him.
The system didn't appear.But it didn't need to.
Kayden felt it.
Something approaching.Something forming.
The next signal.
His friend stretched, completely unaware.
Kayden clenched his jaw.
"…You can stay," he said.
His friend nodded and dropped onto the floor with a tired sigh.
Kayden sat on the bed again, eyes drifting toward the window—toward the night sky settling over the city like a veil.
Quiet.Dark.Unbroken.
But he knew better now.
Somewhere beyond the clouds, reality was thinning.Threads were unraveling.
And the system had chosen him to see it.
The silence in the room felt fragile, as if at any moment—
A whisper.A ripple.A breach.
Kayden didn't sleep.
Neither did the sky.