The ground felt rough against my cheek, like broken glass mixed with dirt. I coughed, and my throat burned. When I opened my eyes, everything looked weird and broken. The sky had these jagged lines all through it, like digital tears, messing up the gross orange color that I guessed was daylight. The ground wasn't dirt but a bunch of shifting, glitching stuff that shimmered and changed while humming. I felt the hum in my bones.
Where am I? I couldn't remember anything. There was this huge, empty hole where my memories should be. I couldn't think of my name, my face, or anything about myself. All I got were bits of code, shimmering like heat, and this awful, heavy guilt. It stuck to me, whispering things I didn't get.
I pushed myself up. My arms and legs felt heavy and slow. My hands looked normal, except they were filthy and my nails were broken. I moved my fingers, but it felt strange and distant. Nothing really hurt, but I felt this dull ache all over, like I was tired to my core.
I looked around at the empty place. Broken metal from old buildings stuck up from the ground like teeth. The air looked weird, like the digital stuff was messing with what was real. The ground blinked, going from messed up to clean white for a second, before going back to messed up. I heard a far-away siren, a sad sound fighting to come through the static.
I started to freak out, feeling a cold panic in my chest. I reached for something to hold on to. My mind raced, trying to remember the regular things, the System that was always there with me, a helper. I looked for my interface, my status, what I had, what I could do. Nothing. It was gone, a scary empty space where the System should have been. I couldn't breathe.
My broken memories didn't help, just showed me quick, bad images. Bright flashes, the smell of ozone, and a loud ripping sound. And always, the guilt, like I was being smothered. What did I do? How did I get to this ruined place?
I walked forward without knowing why. My feet crunched on the trash, each step slow as I checked out this strange place. The messed-up sky seemed to beat, like my own worry. I saw some old data chips, all messed up like everything else. I picked one up and looked at it. It was cold and dead. No help at all.
As I walked, something shimmering caught my eye near the ground. I knelt and brushed away some dirt. It was a reflection, kind of warped, of myself in a puddle of thick, oily stuff. My face looked thin, and my eyes were wide with a fear I couldn't explain. The reflection wobbled and blurred, like even my image was having trouble staying together in that spot.
I carefully touched the liquid. It felt cool and slick and smelled a little like metal. When my finger broke the surface, the reflection went crazy, and for a scary moment, I saw something else on top of my face—a snarling, digital mouth full of sharp code. I pulled back, gasping. That wasn't me. It couldn't be.
The guilt got stronger, like a weight in my chest. It felt like I was being punished for something I couldn't remember. I closed my eyes, trying to get the memories back, to put the pieces together. I saw a hand reaching out. Then a muffled scream. And then nothing. Just emptiness.
I stood up, my legs shaking. The silence there was so loud, only broken by the weird siren and the constant humming of decay. I had to move, to find answers. Staying there, lost in the broken pieces of myself, would only make things worse.
I looked toward a tall, bare structure in the distance. It seemed to poke at the ruined sky, a reminder of whatever had happened there. It was like a sign, even if a bad one, in that empty place. I started walking toward it, each step fighting against the feeling of hopelessness.
As I got closer to the building, I saw something carved into the metal base, which was all rusted. It was like a language I almost knew but didn't. The symbols glowed a little, which stood out from the broken surroundings. I touched the carvings, and they felt a little warm.
Then, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and turned fast. A small metal ball, about the size of my fist, floated above the ground. Its surface had colors going all over the place, and it made a quiet, weird buzzing sound. As I stared, it pulsed, and a single word popped up in the air in blocky letters: ERROR.
My blood went cold. It was like a system message, or what was left of one, but it was cut up and not whole. It was a heads-up that something was really wrong. The ball moved up and down, and another word showed: CORRUPTION.
This place, Corrupted Sector 7, wasn't just a dump. It was proof that something bad had happened. And somehow, I was here, lost in the mess. I felt even more guilty. Was I part of this? Did I help cause this mess? The thought hurt. I had to know. I needed to find out who I was, what I did, and if I could fix it, or at least make up for it.
The ball pulsed again, and a last word popped up in the air like a bad omen: VANCE.
My name. My name is Keiran Vance. The pieces started to...
I tried to access it mentally, to bring up its presence, its familiar comforting hum. "System," I whispered, the word feeling foreign on my tongue. "Status." Silence. Not even a flicker, not a hint. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a frantic drum against the encroaching dread. This wasn't right. This was fundamentally, terrifyingly wrong.