She leaned in slightly, her eyes glinting.
"We're calledHORIZON. And we don't answer to the world governments. In fact, most of them don't even know how deep we run. We operate under the surface, where the real game is played."
Nathan didn't respond right away.
This was too much even for him. He wasn't being treated like a patient, or even a suspect. He was being briefed. Processed into something much bigger than himself, without consent. Like the moment he bonded with that fragment, all his choices had been signed away in advance.
Nina didn't wait for him to catch up. She continued, her voice easy, even amused.
"It started during a mission called Celestis Relay-3. Officially, it was a deep space telemetry experiment launched in '77, right around the time of the Voyager probes. Unofficially, it was designed to track a repeating signal that didn't match any known celestial source."
Nathan stared.
"You ever hear of the Pioneer Anomaly?" she asked. "It's a real thing. It started with getting strange acceleration patterns reports, from the probes . No one had an explanation. Until they did."
She stood, walking slowly across the room as if pacing helped keep the truth from hitting too hard.
"Near Saturn's moon, Relay-3 passed through what we call the fragment field, where they discovered microscopic particles at first, then strange alloys. But buried inside that field were the real treasures... intelligent remnants. Objects that responded to human contact. Adapted to it."
Nathan's thoughts drifted back to the weight in his hand when he first held the silver-black object. And the manifestation of the system, that seemed more alive than intelligent to him.
"The nations involved—America, China, Russia, ESA, a few others—they signed a Charter of Unified Exploration, promising equal access and transparency. But the moment the probe came back with samples and test results? That charter fell apart."
"Because the fragments were valuable," Nathan said.
"More than valuable," Nina said. "Transformational. Within two years, they'd made breakthroughs in power systems, nanomaterials, even AI. All under black-budget programs. But that was just the beginning. Some fragments started bonding with people."
She turned to look at him. "That's right... Bonding. Not attaching or wearing. The technical term eventually became Class Fragment Integration, or CFI."
Nathan didn't react.
"Nobody anticipated it. At first it was in isolated accidents. A handler working with one made an error when transferring it. A lab technician got exposed during an explosion. They didn't just survive. They changed."
"Changed how?"
"It was never the same twice. Some could see further than human eyes ever could. Some could lift a car. Some could bend matter. Others... just disappeared. But the pattern held: the fragments weren't inert. They were adaptive and biological."
She paused, letting the next words sink like stone.
"And most people didn't survive incidents like this."
Nathan swallowed hard. "But I did."
"Exactly," she said. "And under the dumbest circumstances possible. You weren't trying to bond with it, you were trying to destroy it. Which, by all logic, should've killed you. Instead, it bonded with to you."
She studied him carefully.
"Across the globe, HORIZON has just over a thousand hosts under their command. You're one of them now."
He looked up slowly. "Hosts?"
She grinned. "We like to keep the terminology clinical. Keeps people from getting poetic."
There was no need to elaborate, she pivoted smoothly, back into the cadence of someone cataloguing assets.
"Outside HORIZON? I couldn't even begin to give you a number. But trust me, it's a lot more than us. Governments, black-budget groups, private outfits… they all keep their hosts under wraps, just like we did with you. And the real heavy hitters? The ones that can't be measured using normal means? You won't even find a single trace of them."
She didn't know Nathan was one of the heavy hitters she was talking about and neither did he.
"That little trick earlier, dismissing the pattern on your wrist, that's not something most new hosts can pull off."
Nathan glanced at his wrist again, now bare like none of it had ever happened. "I didn't even know I was doing it," he muttered.
Nina raised an eyebrow, but didn't press.
"Yours might not look like much now, but give it time. You'll start noticing it, sharper senses, faster reflexes, changes in your baseline. Eventually the real shift will come. We call it Phase Manifestation. That's when you begin to show things—abilities that go way beyond what normal people can do."
Nathan gave a slow nod, though his mind turned over something. His case was… different. He didn't fell the surge of strength she mentioned. But he did feel different, the clarity and the way his body seemed to be healing faster than normal, that part was real.
Even now, he felt more awake than pain should allow.
Before he could dwell too long, Nina went on.
"Now that it's gotten to this point, There is no turning back for you again." Nina added. "You are one of us now, and HORIZON knows how to get the best of it's assets."
He looked at her sharply. "So that's all I am? An asset?"
"Till you've proven yourself, you're not so different from everyone else. Besides, everyone is an asset to someone. You just happen to be a rare one."
She said it like it was a compliment.
Nathan's hands curled into fists beneath the sheet. "You keep using that word. Like I signed up for this."
"Oh you did, the moment you joined up with Marco and his crew for the heist, you must have already thought about it." she said plainly. "But you survived it, which is more than they managed. It means the CFI wasn't wasted on you, at least there's potential."
There was a long pause.
She softened just slightly. "Look. You get benefits. Real ones. We were able to clean all traces of your involvement in the heist, and the shooting that occurred afterwards. Imagine if we didn't intervene, think of what your circumstances would have been like.
Your criminal activities dating back to when you were just patching up gangsters have all been wiped. Your employment profile, restructured to protect you and our secrets . Your daughter's medical bills and care? Handled by us."
Nathan blinked. "Really?"
"Lily... We've already contacted her doctors. HORIZON has its own facilities. Advanced ones. Think of it as a perk. We'll even cover Claire under your active file."
The anger on his face broke under something else, exhaustion, maybe. Or helplessness.
"You can't just buy me."
"We're not buying you, Nathan. You're already one of us."
She then pointed at his wrist.
The pattern had returned, softly glowing beneath his skin, not fully visible, but enough to catch the light. Just long enough to remind him it was still there.
Nina caught it and raised an eyebrow.
"See? Still struggling to control your manifestation. New hosts always think it's about hiding the pattern, but it's not as straight forward as that. Don't worry, you'll eventually learn everything you need to. Give it time."
She straightened again, smoothing out her blazer.
"Enough of that. Let's get to the reason I'm here. You'll get field assignments soon. Decryption. Data recovery. Support roles. Eventually, combat. If you prove capable. And if you live long enough."
Nathan swallowed. "And if I say no?"
Her smile widened. "Then you better hope you are strong enough, as I'd hate for Lily to lose another parent."
His breath caught. Rage and fear warred behind his eyes.
"I'm not threatening you, Nathan. I'm explaining reality. If the wrong people find out you're a host? They'll skin you for it. And your daughter becomes leverage. Or worse, collateral."
Her tone was still pleasant. The words were not.
"You're safer with us. She's safer with us. That's the truth."
She headed for the door. "Rest up. You'll be out of here soon, and when you are, the real work begins."
When she was almost out of the room, Nathan finally asked.
"Are you also a host?"
She looked back and smiled faintly.
"Now that would ruin the mystery, wouldn't it?"
Then she was gone.
Finally left with a measure of quiet and privacy. Nathan lay back against the pillow, his body still hurt but his mind hurt more.
He didn't trust them. Not one bit. But for Lily, he'd pretend.
Cenovix flickered behind his eyes, then stabilized.
A line of text swept across his vision:
• [Neuromotor Calibration: Complete]
• [Host Parameters Updated]
• [Directive Input: Acknowledged]
• [New Assignment Detected: Awaiting Deployment Protocols...]