Aidan didn't go home that night.
He wandered the city instead—back streets, empty bus stops, cheap corner cafés that stayed open past midnight. His thoughts churned with data, theory, and quiet dread.
He wasn't scared for himself.
He was scared for the people who didn't even know they were part of this game.
Ghost Core. Mimic Core. System echoes. Proxy hosts.
The further he dug, the less it felt like he was the protagonist.
And that made him more dangerous than ever.
Around 2 AM, his system pinged gently.
[Simulation Model Updated – Multi-System Interaction Active]
[New Mode: "WebThread" Enabled – Visualizing Multi-User Interference Patterns]
He accessed it.
Lines of energy spread across the darkened city grid. Every known system glowed like a pulse—Jeremy, Raj, Emily, Zelia... and three more faint beacons blinking erratically.
Three new users?
He zoomed in.
One was across the city—dorm building, likely a university student. System signature unknown.
The other two were closer. Much closer.
One… was at his school.
Aidan frowned. It pulsed faintly near the science lab. He saved the coordinates.
The third one—
He froze.
It was moving—toward him.
He was standing near a closed underground station, just outside a flickering neon diner sign. The street was mostly empty.
But the third signal was getting closer.
[User Signature Unlocked – Profile #5 – Codename: LYRIC]
[System Type: "Pulse Chain" – Behavior Sync Detected]
Behavior sync?
A shadow turned the corner ahead.
Aidan's system dimmed the light overlay, but he kept his eyes forward.
Then he saw him.
A boy, maybe his age. Pale hoodie. Head down. Moving with almost mechanical grace.
They crossed paths at the corner.
No words.
Just a glance.
And in that glance, Aidan felt it.
A jolt—like static. His system trembled. For a second, he saw himself—standing still, yet moving. The system glitched, showing two decision overlays at once.
Then—darkness.
[System Rebooting... Estimated Time: 00:02:14]
He stumbled. Braced against the wall.
By the time he looked up, the boy was gone.
But Aidan wasn't the same.
Something inside had shifted.
A presence.
A feeling of being watched—from inside.
His system returned with a sharp ping.
[Invasive Signal Trace Detected – Pulse Chain Attempted Behavioral Override]
[Countermeasures Deployed – Partial Memory Drift Logged]
[Warning: Your decisions may no longer be entirely your own.]
Aidan's breath caught.
Lyric didn't just have a system.
He influenced choices. Shifted behaviors. Maybe not completely—but enough to make you think you made a choice when it was gently nudged.
Aidan shivered.
He had to talk to Emily. Now.
---
By sunrise, he met her in a quiet corner of a nearby park. She looked tired but alert.
"I found another one," he said.
"Another system user?"
He nodded. "Codename Lyric. System type: Pulse Chain. I think he can affect our thinking. Not just decisions—behavioral drift."
Emily's eyes widened. "That's not a support tool. That's psychological warfare."
He nodded grimly. "Worse. I think he touched my system. I don't know how much is still me."
Emily took a deep breath. "We're not prepared for this."
"Yet," Aidan said. "But we're learning fast. I just need time. And data."
She pulled something from her bag. A USB. "You're not the only one digging. This was Raj's. He left it in the library. It was hidden in a math book."
Aidan took it carefully. Plugged it into his tablet.
The folder name: EchoIndex
Inside were logs.
System activations. Failure rates. Project names.
"Zebra Core," Aidan muttered. "Hollow Thread. Eden Protocol..."
Emily pointed. "Look at this one."
Echo File 07 – [DECOMMISSIONED SYSTEM: LYRIC / CLASSIFIED]
He opened it.
Lines of code. Red warnings.
"Subject shows early signs of deviation. Emotional desynchronization increasing. Recommend erasure or supervised integration."
Aidan's blood ran cold.
Lyric wasn't just another player.
He was a failed experiment—left to walk freely.
Emily leaned in. "They dumped him. But he's still live. That means we're not just playing the game…"
"We're playing with abandoned prototypes," Aidan finished.
The system pinged again.
[Threat Matrix Updated – Priority Adjustment: Lyric Elevated to Tier 2 Risk]
[Recommendation: Secure Environment Before Reengagement]
He looked at Emily. "We need a safe zone. A place without signals, interference, or outside traces."
She smiled faintly. "I think I know one."
---
By evening, they were climbing into an old abandoned observatory on the city's edge—unused since funding cuts a decade ago.
No cameras. No power. No Wi-Fi.
Perfect.
As they set up a makeshift base—Aidan's tablet, Emily's old analog notebook, the USB stick, and two backup batteries—they started building something more than safety.
They built a plan.
A map of known system users.
A chart of their behaviors, system types, risk ratings.
A tracker for anomaly events like the Ghost Core or Zelia's mimic pulses.
And most importantly—one shared rule:
Never trust your first thought.
Because with systems like Lyric's out there…
Even your mind might lie to you.