Something cracked.
A soundless sound—like the world itself took a breath wrong—rippled through the endless dark.
A web of invisible pressure spread outward, bending the void as if the laws holding it together had winced in pain.
Far above the sky Aiden had died beneath, a vertical wound of violet light opened. A slit—clean, deliberate, scalpel-sharp—carved across a horizon that did not belong to Earth.
From within that trembling incision, a voice emerged. Heavy. Ancient. Like stone grinding against its own bones.
"—A regressor lives."
The darkness shuddered.
A second being flickered nearby—humanoid in silhouette, its edges fraying like a candle flame fighting a storm. It bowed.
Its voice was thin, brittle, and afraid.
"Y-your observation is confirmed. Their identity is…unknown. Gender unknown. Location on the surface—also unknown."
For a moment, silence spread across the void like a stain.
Then the larger presence twitched once. A minor gesture with a catastrophic feeling behind it—pressure spiked, as if an unseen hand pressed down on the universe hard enough to test its limits.
"Unacceptable."
The smaller silhouette flickered violently, its form destabilizing as if erased stroke by stroke.
"I attempted reentry into the moment of collapse," it said, voice fraying at the edges. "But the timeline denied access. I was…ejected. Forced backward. The loop resisted identification."
A low vibration rolled through the void—too deep to be sound, too real to be imagination.
"Then the worldline has been overwritten."
The larger entity's tone remained flat, almost bored, as though discussing weather patterns instead of cosmic transgressions.
"The future of my judgment…erased completely."
The smaller one nearly buckled under the weight of those words.
"Th-then we proceed to contingency? Pressure upon the planet?"
A pause. Not hesitation—calculation.
"…Begin."
The order resonated like a commandment.
The subordinate straightened sharply. "We will strike stress points first. Small disasters. Controlled disruptions. The regressor will reveal themselves under strain."
It lowered its head in a gesture resembling a bow.
"…Understood."
And the violet slit thinned, closing like an eye losing interest.
Leaving the dark to tremble on its own.
***
The cafeteria was loud in that fake, harsh-light way that makes everything feel cheaper than it already is. The ceiling lights hummed overhead like they were tired of their jobs.
The smell was a mix of fries, reheated pasta, and whatever sadness was baked into student debt.
Without thinking, my hands moved through the routine—tray, slide it along, point at food like it mattered. Lasagna. Chips.
A vegetable that probably started its life as something green before the kitchen bullied it.
Same tables. Same cliques. Same chatter. Same little islands of people who already had their roles assigned. And me, drifting past them like some flavorless NPC background decoration.
That's the thing about groups: if you weren't born into one, good luck clawing your way in. You'd be the outsider, the substitute, the guy they forgot to text next week. Disposable. Replaceable. I'd…learned to stop trying.
I let out a slow breath, lifting the tray off the counter. My corner was still empty—of course it was.
Setting the tray down, I sank into the plastic chair and let the cafeteria's monotony wash over me. Harsh lights, bad smells, boring conversations.
After everything I'd seen—after dying, after waking up in a void that felt like the universe breathing on my neck, after stat screens and heart explosions and black veins creeping across my skin—this cheap, noisy, painfully average cafeteria felt…
Safe.
Normal.
Normal wasn't exciting or heroic. It was dull, cheap, predictable, and right now it felt like a blessing I'd forgotten to appreciate.
Normal was a cafeteria chair with a wobbly leg and a tray that left your fingers slightly greasy no matter what you ordered. Normal was the drone of a hundred overlapping conversations, the scrape of plastic forks on cheap plates, or the beep of someone's phone.
I stabbed a piece of lasagna and shoved it into my mouth before my brain could start doing the thing again. The thing where it rewound the purple sky in 4K.
It didn't help.
For a second, the cheese on my fork was... a strip of flesh. The red sauce was too dark. My stomach clenched.
Not this. Not now.
I shut my eyes and forced the food down. Swallowed. It hit my stomach like a rock. I waited for the nausea to follow, but it didn't.
"My body's fine," I muttered, almost bitter.
Stronger, even. My hands didn't shake when I set the fork down, despite the thoughts flooding the gates of my mind. My fingers didn't feel like twigs anymore.
The hoodie hanging off my shoulders brushed a chest that wasn't as flat as I remembered. When I shifted in my seat, the chair creaked in a way that said 'hey, you actually weigh something now.'
I hated how good it felt.
The Aphelion System's blue text flickered in the corner of my vision, faint as an afterimage.
[STATUS SUMMARY]
Level: 3
Strength: 5
Intelligence: 1
Magic: 1
Stamina: 2
Resistance: 1
Mana: 100/100
DEATH COUNT: [1]
"Nobody can see it," I whispered to myself. "It's just in your head. Everyone else is normal. You can be normal. Just... eat."
I picked up a fry. Salt, great, crunch. Simple. Present. Real.
Students laughed at the next table over, and I felt a tinge of envy at how carefree they seemed. Someone shouted about a midterm. Somebody else complained about their roommate's sex life.
All so boring—
That was when someone smacked their tray down across from me like they were trying to assassinate the table.
I flinched. Automatically. My eyes immediately darting to the noise.
"Whoa," a voice said, sounding amused. "Jumpier than last night. That's impressive somehow."
I met her eyes, and saw Maya, elbow on table, cheek in hand like this was the most natural thing in the world. Her hair was a messy bun of orange, and her green eyes met my own with interest.
"Quite the meal you have there," she said, judging. "You're going to lose all that gym progress if you eat stuff like that."
From around us, I could feel eyeballs pointing to our table. To me.
She was a beautiful girl after all, and beauty speaks, especially in a small college with limited options.
Maya was... Maya.
And I was...me.
People were absolutely asking themselves why someone like her was sitting with the loner in the baggy hoodie.
Honestly, same.
"Are you lost?" I asked before my brain could veto the sentence. "Or is this just your one good deed for the day?"
Maya's eyes lit with the kind of energy that meant trouble.
"Ohhh, wow," she said, leaning forward. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"...Get what?"
She slapped her palm on the table with unnecessary enthusiasm.
"Congratulations!" she declared. "You are now my new project."
"Your—your what?"
"My new project. I'm calling it Operation: Make Aiden Less Lame."
I froze. "That sounds insulting."
"It is," she said brightly, before raising her hand in a theatrical flourish, like she was announcing the fall of an empire. "But alas, it is a necessary evil."
"Step one," she said, pointing her sandwich at my face. "Your hair. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but right now you look like a depressed golden retriever without an owner."
My mouth opened slowly, but of course, Maya was having none of it.
Waving her hand dismissively she continued, "No, no, don't argue. Accept it. Acceptance is the first step to healing."
She took a bite of her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully like she was inspecting a scientific specimen.
"You have good hair," she announced, like a judge handing down a verdict I was somehow supposed to be grateful for.
I just stared. "What?"
"Good hair," she repeated, brows raised. "Like, objectively. Problem is you don't treat it like it deserves basic rights. So, we're going to fix it."
"Fixing... my hair."
I felt like this girl was just pulling me in whatever direction she wanted, and to be honest, I felt powerless to stop it.
"Yes. Don't worry, I'll walk you through the process gently, like a wounded forest animal."
I felt my face tense up as I shot her a confused look. She just looked back, mouth full, unbothered.
I sighed. "Why are you even doing this? I met you under the worst conditions. We've never talked before last night. And I already know I'm not the most fun guy to be around. So I don't understand your motive," I expressed honestly.
"And... it's hard to trust someone when you don't know their reasoning," I mumbled, with finality.
Her smile faltered.
Not very noticeable, just a small twitch.
She looked down at her tray with the smallest of pauses.
"...Why not?" she said quietly.
But before my brain could process anything—
Her cheerful persona snapped back into place, bright as ever.
"ANYWAY," she said loudly, slapping the table again, "step two is clothes. Yours are a hate crime to anyone with eyes."
"That's—"
"They are, Aiden. They are."
I rubbed my forehead. "This feels personal."
"Oh, it is," she said with a grin. "I am personally offended, which is why I am taking personal responsibility for your entire life."
I tried to think of a comeback.
Nothing.
Of course, nothing.
Then Maya paused mid-bite, her eyes drifting past me.
"Uh-oh," she whispered, bread hanging out of her mouth.
"What?"
"You're being stared at."
I turned.
Sophia Lindt sat at a table across the cafeteria. Perfect posture. Perfect uniform. Perfect everything.
But her gaze was intense.
Directly.
At.
Me.
"...Why is she glaring at me? Honestly the hell is even going on anymore?"
Maya gave a low whistle. "You're entering your popular arc. Disgusting. I refuse to participate in this storyline."
I rolled my eyes—
And then the world froze.
Not literally.
But the cafeteria noise dimmed, as if time was slowing.
A flicker of blue appeared at the edge of my vision.
Then—
[WARNING]
My heart punched upward in my throat.
Another line appeared, flashing red.
AN UNIDENTIFIED ENTITY IS SCANNING THIS AREA.
Recommended Action: Remain Unnoticeable. Remain Still.
Another message blinked into existence, flickering like an old light.
COSMIC SCANNING WAVE APPROACHING.
DO NOT MOVE.
I swallowed hard.
"Maya," I whispered, but I didn't know where my sentence was leading.
She frowned immediately, her cheerful expression fading.
"Aiden? Hey—are you okay? You look pale."
But I couldn't answer.
My stomach tightened as something caught my eye outside of the cafeteria window.
The sky rippled.
Stretched.
Tore.
A thin line of violet split across the clouds, glowing like a wound cut into reality itself.
The light bled outward in slow pulses, turning the entire cafeteria window a shade too unnatural to belong on Earth.
No one looked up.
Conversations carried on, untouched.
Trays clattered, laughter continued, forks scraped, all oblivious, as if reality had forgotten to warn them.
But I felt it.
That same pressure from the day I died.That crushing, suffocating awareness pressing down on me from somewhere far above the atmosphere.
The purple slit widened, scanning, sweeping a beam across the city like a spotlight looking for something that didn't belong.
[SCANNING IN PROGRESS]
My pulse froze.
My lungs locked.
And in the center of my skull, one thought broke through:
I don't want to die again.