Darkness.
Not the darkness of sleep, or even unconsciousness. This was something else. Something vast and empty and utterly silent. Luke floated in it, neither alive nor dead, aware but not present.
Time meant nothing here. He felt days pass, then stretch into weeks. Weeks became months, months became years. Each one marked by a singular, burning thought:
Revenge.
He would find Ethan. He would stop him. He would—
[ORIGINAL GENESIS PROTOCOL CORE ACTIVATED]
The words appeared in his mind, glowing with impossible light.
[ACCEPT ADMINISTRATOR CONTROLS?]
Luke stared at the words. One chance. One choice.
"Accept."
***
Luke woke up to a splitting headache.
Ugh. Feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my skull.
He groaned, pressing his palms against his temples. The pain was sharp, persistent, like his brain was trying to crawl out of his head. Then, something flickered in his vision—glowing text that definitely shouldn't exist.
[GENESIS PROTOCOL - ADMINISTRATOR MODE]
[USER: Luke Chen]
[COMBAT AVERAGE: 19]
[RANK: Unranked]
[CREDITS: 0]
[LEVEL: E]
[ACTIVE ABILITIES: None Unlocked]
[SYSTEM STATUS: Initialization Phase - 73% Complete]
Oh. Oh, this is new.
Luke blinked hard, but the text remained, hovering in his field of vision like some kind of augmented reality display. Except there was no headset. No glasses. Just... information, burned directly into his perception.
He'd read about systems like this in fiction books—people getting transported to other worlds, gaining game-like abilities, leveling up through combat. It was the kind of stuff he'd devoured during late-night reading sessions.
And when he'd started studying the Genesis Protocol with his mother's notes, he'd realized that the program was designed to make those fantasies a reality.
But this? This was different.
Combat average at 19? Are you kidding me?
Nineteen was barely above the survival threshold. Anyone below sixteen wouldn't survive integration with the program—their bodies would reject it, shut down, die. Nineteen meant he was functional, but just barely. No wonder the system labeled him Level E.
Great. I'm back from the dead as a noob. Fantastic.
Luke looked around his room. Scattered laundry covered the bed, empty takeout containers littered the floor, and—was that a slice of pizza? It sat near the corner, edges curled and darkened with age. Almost two days old, if the mold pattern was any indication.
Wait. How do I know that?
[SYSTEM STATUS: Memory Syncing - 98% Complete]
Ah. Memory syncing. Of course.
Luke sat up slowly, his head still throbbing. The room felt familiar and foreign at the same time. He knew this place—a cramped studio apartment in lower Manhattan—but he also didn't. The memories weren't quite his, like watching someone else's life through a slightly foggy window.
Ethan had created this body. Had to be him. Who else could reconstruct a person from scratch, syncing past memories into a new shell? It was exactly the kind of twisted resurrection Ethan would find poetic.
He actually did it. Built me a new body and brought me back. Just like he promised.
The thought sent a chill down his spine. Ethan had said he'd prepare a place for Luke in his perfect future. Apparently, he'd meant it literally.
Which means...
Luke grabbed the phone beside him—a Google Pixel, sleek and modern. He tapped the screen, checking the date.
May 12, 2035.
His breath caught.
Ten years. It's been exactly ten years since I died.
Ten years since Ethan had put a bullet through his chest in that warehouse. Ten years of floating in that void, waiting, burning with rage. And now he was here, in a world Ethan had been shaping without him.
What the hell happened in ten years?
Luke jumped to his feet, his legs wobbling slightly as he stumbled toward the mirror hanging on the wall. He needed to see what Ethan had done to him.
The reflection staring back was both familiar and alien.
Dark hair, slightly messy. Green eyes that caught the light at odd angles. Sharp jawline, though not quite as defined as he remembered. He looked younger—mid-twenties, maybe—and yeah, definitely less handsome than his original face.
Thanks for downgrading me, Ethan. Really appreciate it.
But what stood out most was his skin. It had an almost imperceptible sheen to it, like light reflecting off polished metal. And there, centered in his chest where his heart should be, was a glowing core—pulsing softly with blue light.
A digital heart.
Luke pressed his hand against it, feeling the steady thrum of energy beneath his fingertips. This was a nano-skin body. Fully synthetic, powered by the Genesis Protocol itself. Ethan had turned him into exactly what he'd envisioned—a living machine, enhanced and optimized for his "perfect world."
So he actually did it. Created his better world.
The thought made Luke's stomach turn. If Ethan had advanced this far, if nano-skin bodies were real and functional, then what else had he accomplished? Had he carried out his genocide? Had millions died to fuel his vision?
A voice from the TV cut through his thoughts.
"—and joining us today is the man who revolutionized humanity itself, the creator of the Genesis Protocol, Mr. King—"
Luke's head snapped toward the screen.
There he was. Ethan. Or "King," as he apparently called himself now.
He looked almost exactly the same as ten years ago—blonde hair perfectly styled, brilliant blue eyes that practically glowed with confidence. The nano-skin had preserved him flawlessly. He hadn't aged a day. If anything, he looked more polished, more refined, like a statue come to life.
Still rocking the messiah complex, I see.
The interviewer—a polished woman in a burgundy blazer—leaned forward with the kind of reverence usually reserved for world leaders. "Mr. King, your invention has enhanced humanity in ways we never thought possible. What's next for the Genesis Protocol?"
Ethan smiled, that same calculated smile Luke remembered. "Thank you, Rebecca. But I don't like to think of it as 'my' invention. The Genesis Protocol belongs to humanity."
Belongs to humanity? More like 'stolen from my dead mother and passed off as your own creation.'
Luke's fists clenched.
"Right now," Ethan continued, "the United States and sixty-five other nations have integrated the Protocol into their infrastructure. But I don't intend to stop there. We're moving toward an era where traditional economics become obsolete. No more buying and selling. No more defense organizations or military conflicts. Everyone in the world will have the opportunity to function under one connected system. One unified humanity."
One system. Under your control. That's what you mean.
The interviewer practically glowed. "That's incredible. A truly unified world. How much longer before we see this vision realized?"
Ethan paused, as if contemplating. "A year? Two, perhaps?" Then his expression shifted, something darker flickering behind those blue eyes. "Of course, everything moves faster with the right assistance."
"What do you mean?"
Ethan turned his gaze directly toward the camera. For a moment, Luke could've sworn he was staring right at him.
"It took me ten years to bring us this far. Alone." His smile widened. "Imagine how much faster we could move if two people worked toward perfection. I've made... adjustments recently. A similar program I've been preserving for a decade. The speed of change should accelerate dramatically now."
He's talking about me. That bastard is talking about me.
Luke lunged forward and slammed the TV off. The screen went black, but Ethan's smile remained burned into his vision.
So that's why you brought me back. Not out of guilt or nostalgia. You need me. Need the administrator access I have.
It all made sense now. Ethan had the user copy of the Protocol, but Luke was the administrator. There were features, functions, core systems that only he could access. Ethan had hit a wall in his plans, and the only way forward was to either convince Luke to cooperate...
Or force him.
Well, guess what? I'd rather die again than help you.
Luke took a deep breath, trying to center himself.
Revenge. That's what he'd promised himself during those endless years in the void. He would stop Ethan. He would dismantle this twisted world and return things to normal.
But first, he needed to survive.
He glanced around the apartment again, really looking this time. Dirty laundry. Empty food containers. And—oh God—was that a cockroach?
Yep. That's a roach. A big one.
The insect scurried across the floor, disappearing under his bed. Luke jumped backward, nearly tripping over a pizza box in his panic. He scrambled onto his desk chair, heart racing.
I've been shot, betrayed, and resurrected in a synthetic body, but cockroaches still freak me out. Priorities, Luke. Priorities.
His eyes landed on a crate sitting on the desk. Inside were papers—bills, from the look of them. He picked one up, scanning the text.
RENT OVERDUE: $500
Perfect. Not only am I stuck in a dystopian future ruled by my ex-best friend, I'm also broke and behind on rent. This just keeps getting better.
He dropped back into the chair, rubbing his face. Think. He needed to blend into this world first. Figure out how things worked, what Ethan had changed, where the resistance was—if there even was one. Charging in blind would just get him killed again.
And this time, I might not come back.
His phone buzzed.
Luke picked it up, squinting at the caller ID: Mr. Ray.
Who the hell is Mr. Ray?
He stared at the screen as it continued to ring, weighing his options. Answer and risk revealing he had no idea who this person was? Or ignore it and potentially miss something important?
When in doubt, commit to the bit.
Luke answered. "Hello?"