System Online. Stability Compromised.
Orin stood on the edge of the rooftop, the wind teasing the hem of his hoodie as the sun rose over the skyline. Below, the city moved like clockwork—buses groaned down crowded streets, delivery bikes zipped through traffic, and tired faces drifted between lives. It felt... normal. Comforting, in a way.
But inside, everything was fractured.
[SYSTEM ONLINE]
[Update: Dimensional Travel Costs Applied – Energy Sync Calibration 62%]
[WARNING: Unauthorized Power Use May Destabilize Host Form]
[CHAOS CORE STABILITY: 79%]
The text scrolled in pale green light, hanging in the air like a heads-up display only Orin could see. And that was the problem. No one else could perceive it. Not Lena. Not the people on the street. Not even the weird mailman with the tattoo of a chili dog on his neck who seemed like he'd seen some things.
Orin blinked the text away. He didn't want to deal with it right now.
He dropped off the rooftop, landing in a crouch in a quiet alley. The impact vibrated through his knees—but not as sharply as it used to. The chaos energy had been healing him slowly, knitting bone and sinew together night after night.
He rolled his wrist.
No pain.
Two weeks ago, he couldn't even grip a doorknob without flinching.
Now? He was starting to feel... capable.
The system, while back online, had changed. It gave warnings. Locked features. Displayed things in percentages and numbers that sounded vaguely threatening. The once-flowing chaos energy now came in fits and spurts—he could feel it trying to behave, as if throttled by some invisible limiter.
But it was still inside him. Still his.
He just had to earn it.
"Guess I'm freelancing now," Orin muttered.
He walked, hands in his pockets, weaving through alleyways until he found a wide, mostly abandoned construction site. A rusted chain-link fence surrounded it, and the remnants of half-poured concrete slabs scattered the ground like broken thoughts.
Orin stepped into the center of the yard and stretched.
"Alright. Let's test this."
He crouched slightly, focused inward. He didn't tap the system prompt. Didn't look at the readout. Just breathed.
Chaos energy stirred like smoke in his lungs. He let it rise.
And then—
CRACK.
He blurred forward in a burst of red light, skidding across the concrete. Dust exploded in his wake. He stumbled—too much torque in the ankles—but caught himself before he fell.
Adrenaline spiked. No, not adrenaline.
Something cleaner. Cooler.
It wasn't just the speed—it was how his body was reacting. How each time he used the energy, his limbs adjusted slightly. Like the chaos was learning him, just as he was learning it.
[Passive Sync Update: Muscular Micro-Stress Adaptation Recognized]
[HEALING EFFICIENCY +4%]
The notification appeared, then vanished. He blinked hard.
"Was that... leveling up?" he asked the empty lot.
No answer, obviously.
But something inside him felt sharper. His muscles didn't ache the same way they used to. The small cracks and injuries were closing faster.
He'd need to push harder.
Orin jogged backward, then darted forward again—this time focusing on control. He curved around a steel beam, jumped over a cracked support pillar, and landed hard against the back wall of the lot. Dust floated around him like mist.
His breathing was steady.
No shaking hands. No wheezing lungs. The chaos was holding him together—and then some.
[Warning: Overexertion May Trigger Dimensional Instability]
[Continue Use? Y/N]
Orin growled, ignoring it. "Yeah, you're not my mom."
He dashed again. And again. And again.
Each movement honed tighter. More responsive. His own muscle memory was catching up with the chaos-fueled precision.
Then—
A flicker.
His vision blurred—not from exhaustion, but from something else.
A memory not his own.
A white hallway. Gunshots. A girl with blonde hair collapsing in slow motion. A red streak. Rage like a flame igniting the universe.
Orin dropped to his knees, gasping. The scene vanished just as quickly as it came.
"Shadow," he whispered.
He'd seen that before. In fragments. He was connecting—somehow—to the source of the energy. Each use of power peeled back more of that shared connection, pulling fragments of Shadow's past through some rift between soul and code.
But there was more.
As the memory faded, another flashed behind it.
His own.
He was ten, alone in a hospital waiting room. The static on the TV filled the air like a fog, drowning out the whispers of nurses. His mother never came back out of the double doors.
"Why now?" he muttered. "Why show me that now?"
No answer. Just silence.
The chaos inside him felt heavier. Denser.
But somehow, more his.
He stood, brushing off his jeans.
"Alright," he muttered. "You want a fight, I'll give you one."
Back at the apartment, Lena barely looked up from her laptop as Orin entered, hair wind-blown and covered in dust.
"You look like you wrestled a cement mixer."
"Kind of did," Orin muttered.
She grinned. "New urban sport?"
"Something like that."
She paused, watching him. Her tone softened slightly. "Hey, you okay?"
He hesitated, the weight of the morning still hanging on his shoulders.
"I'm... getting there."
She nodded, as if she understood more than she let on. "Cool. Just don't collapse in the bathroom. I'm not dragging your body anywhere."
He managed a faint smile.
Orin ducked into the small bedroom, flopping onto the mattress. The system quietly updated in the corner of his vision:
[CHAOS SYNC LEVEL: 7]
[Mobility Efficiency: +12%]
[Healing Rate: +8%]
[Unlocked: KINETIC ABSORPTION (Passive)]
[Note: You are adapting. Slowly.]
The message faded, but the meaning stuck.
This wasn't just about surviving anymore.
It was about evolving.
And with the rift between worlds growing stronger each day—he was going to need everything he could get.