The tear through the Nexus was a violent, multi-dimensional vortex that stretched Loid Forger's very being. One moment, the chaos of the crumbling SERN facility, the screams of Okabe, the next, a sickening lurch, a blinding flash, and then—silence. He hit the ground with a controlled roll, his body instinctively absorbing the impact, years of training kicking in before consciousness fully returned.
He lay still for a moment, ears straining, senses hyper-alert. The air was cool, sterile, and faintly metallic. No dust, no smoke, no scent of damp earth. Just a clean, almost artificial stillness. He opened his eyes.
Above him, the sky was a permanent twilight, illuminated by an intricate lattice of shimmering, luminescent lines that crisscrossed the heavens like an impossible circuit board. Below, a sprawling, perfectly ordered city stretched to the horizon. Buildings of polished chrome and reinforced glass rose in symmetrical towers, their surfaces reflecting the sky-grid in dazzling, geometric patterns. There were no visible cars, no noisy factories, no chaotic street markets. The city hummed with a low, almost imperceptible frequency, a constant, underlying drone that spoke of immense, hidden power.
Loid pushed himself up, his movements fluid and noiseless. He found himself in what appeared to be an immaculate, deserted plaza, paved with dark, reflective stone. There were no people immediately in sight, yet he felt an immediate, pervasive sensation of being watched. Every polished surface, every shimmering line in the sky, every silent building seemed to hold a hidden eye.
This isn't a natural world, Loid thought, his spy's instincts already screaming a silent warning. It's too… perfect. Too controlled.
His memory of the Nexus was fragmented, a blur of impossible physics and desperate gambits. The Sybil System, its omnipresent "Eye," the raw, unquantifiable defiance of Reinhard and Akagi – it was all there, lingering like a phantom ache behind his eyes. But the urgency of survival, of adapting to this new reality, immediately took precedence. He checked his pockets. His silenced pistol was gone, along with his standard-issue WISE gear. All he had were the clothes on his back, a few minor personal effects, and his mind. His highly trained, utterly lethal mind.
No equipment. No intel. No contacts. Worst-case scenario for an infiltration. Best-case for a pure test of skill.
He began to move, his steps light and deliberate, his gaze sweeping every detail. The buildings had no visible entrances, no windows. Seamless facades of steel and glass stretched upwards, broken only by glowing data-streams that flowed across their surfaces. It was a city designed for efficiency, for control, for something unseen.
"Citizen detected. Please identify yourself."
The voice was calm, synthesized, emanating from unseen speakers embedded in the architecture itself. It was everywhere, yet nowhere. Loid froze, his posture unthreatening, his expression neutral. He formulated a dozen plausible cover stories in a microsecond, discarding them all. He had no identification, no knowledge of this world's protocols. Direct deception was a risk.
A panel in the plaza floor slid open silently, revealing a small, sleek drone, its single optical lens glowing with an unsettling blue light. It hovered, observing him, its presence radiating an aura of unwavering scrutiny.
"Identity scan initiated. Failure to comply will result in re-education protocol."
Loid assessed the drone. It was small, unarmed. Its threat was implied, not immediate. "I am… a traveler," he stated, his voice calm, clear, his Japanese inflected with a slight, neutral accent. He maintained eye contact with the drone's lens, his expression carefully unreadable. "I seem to have lost my way."
The drone paused, its blue light flickering. "Traveler status unverified. Data points insufficient for categorization. Proceeding to detainment facility for comprehensive analysis. Do not resist."
Before the drone could move, Loid blurred. His movements were too fast for a human eye to follow, a trained reflex that bypassed conscious thought. He didn't break the drone; that would draw more attention. Instead, he deftly plucked a tiny, almost invisible chip from its undercarriage—a data core, perhaps, or a tracking device—and replaced it with a small, innocuous piece of decorative stone he'd pocketed from the plaza. He then subtly nudged the drone off its balance, sending it spiraling harmlessly into the side of a nearby planter, its blue light dimming.
He vanished into a narrow gap between two buildings before the drone could even register its malfunction. He was in an access tunnel, dark and dusty, smelling of old concrete. He moved quickly, silently, analyzing the chip in his hand. It was rudimentary, yet pulsing with an astonishing amount of localized data. He pressed it to a small, hidden port on his watch, a surprisingly resilient piece of WISE tech that had survived the Nexus's collapse. It beeped faintly, pulling data.
So, they scan everything. They categorize everyone. This isn't a government, it's a giant algorithm. A Sybil without the 'Eye' of human judgment. Even more dangerous, perhaps, because it would have no conscience.
His mind raced. He needed clothes. Local currency. A temporary identity. And most importantly, information about this society, its power structure, its weaknesses. The word "re-education" lingered chillingly in his mind. This was a world that did not tolerate anomalies.
He moved deeper into the shadows of the access tunnels, the drone's synthesized voice still echoing in his mind. This is a surveillance state. Every action, every thought, if they can detect it, is categorized. There are no free individuals here, only data points.
A pang of longing, sharp and unexpected, pierced through his professional detachment. Anya. Yor. Even Franky. Would they be safe? Had they survived the Nexus's collapse? He pushed it down. Sentimentality was a luxury he couldn't afford. His mission was to survive, to understand, to find a way out, and perhaps, to find them.
He reached a maintenance access point, a small, unmarked door. He picked the lock in seconds, his fingers moving with practiced ease. Inside, a narrow staircase led upwards, towards the hum of the city above. He listened intently, hearing faint, rhythmic footsteps from above. People. Finally.
Alright, Loid, he thought, adjusting his posture, subtly altering his gait even before seeing anyone. New city. New mission. Let's see what secrets this perfect world tries to keep.
He began his ascent, stepping into the unblinking city.