The phone stayed warm in Arjun's hand long after he locked the screen.
He hadn't selected an evolution path.
He hadn't dismissed the prompt either.
The system didn't hurry him.
That was the part that unsettled him the most.
Outside the half-collapsed building, night settled in again—not abruptly, but like a patient predator lowering itself into place. Fires dotted the cityscape, smaller now, controlled where possible, left to burn where they weren't. The territory breathed around him, a subtle rhythm he felt more than heard.
Nyxara watched him from across the room.
"You're stalling," she said calmly.
"I'm thinking," Arjun replied.
She tilted her head. "Anchors who think too long become examples."
He looked up at her. "And Anchors who rush become disasters."
A corner of her mouth curved. "You're learning."
Silence stretched between them.
The building creaked as the wind pushed through broken concrete and exposed rebar. Somewhere below, a generator coughed, steadied, then continued its uneven rhythm. Human sounds. Fragile sounds.
Arjun exhaled slowly. "Explain the paths again. Without the sales pitch."
Nyxara stepped closer, boots crunching softly on debris. "Very well."
She gestured, and the air between them shimmered faintly—not a spell, not a projection, but a conceptual overlay. Arjun felt the bond adjust, aligning perception.
"Fortification Anchors," she began, "become places. Their identity merges with territory. Walls strengthen. Space stabilizes. Creatures find it harder to breach."
"That sounds like what people want," Arjun said.
"Yes," Nyxara agreed. "And that's the problem. The more people depend on the place, the less the Anchor remains a person. Fortification Anchors don't leave. They can't."
Arjun imagined it—being fused to this intersection, this ruined city, until movement itself became impossible.
"Dominion," Nyxara continued, "anchors hierarchy. Authority becomes absolute. People obey—not because they choose to, but because reality encourages it."
Arjun's jaw tightened. "Mind control."
"Influence," she corrected. "Scaled. Efficient. Terrifying."
"And Conduit?"
Nyxara's expression shifted subtly.
"Conduits don't store power," she said. "They pass it. Through themselves. To others. Or to something greater."
Arjun frowned. "That sounds like being a battery."
She met his gaze. "It sounds like being a bridge."
The words lingered.
Arjun leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "Every option costs something."
"Yes," Nyxara said softly. "That's how you know they're real."
The phone vibrated again—not insistently, but informatively.
ANCHOR STRAIN: INCREASING (PASSIVE)
CAUSE: UNRESOLVED EVOLUTION
He closed his eyes briefly. "What happens if I refuse all three?"
Nyxara didn't answer right away.
"That bad?" he asked.
She sighed. "Then the system chooses for you. Based on stress patterns. Trauma. External pressure."
Arjun laughed quietly, without humor. "So it profiles me."
"It already has," she replied.
The first sign of failure came an hour later.
It wasn't dramatic. No screams. No explosions.
Just a scream cut short.
Arjun was on his feet instantly, the bond flaring as he rushed outside. Nyxara was beside him without needing to be told.
The sound had come from the western edge of the territory.
They found the body near a collapsed storefront.
A woman—mid-twenties, maybe. One of the newer arrivals. Her throat was torn open, blood dark against the pavement. Her eyes were wide, frozen in shock.
Marcus stood nearby, pale, rifle clenched too tightly in his hands. "Scavenger," he said hoarsely. "Just one. Slipped through."
Nyxara crouched beside the corpse, eyes glowing faintly. "No," she said. "Not scavenger."
Arjun knelt, stomach heavy. "Then what?"
Nyxara touched the blood with one clawed fingertip, then straightened. "A drifter. Drawn by the Anchor field. Predatory. Intelligent."
The phone buzzed.
UNAUTHORIZED ENTITY BREACH CONFIRMED
ANCHOR RESPONSE: DELAYED
CASUALTY REGISTERED
Arjun clenched his fists. "I should've felt it."
"You would have," Nyxara said quietly, "if your field were shaped."
Marcus swallowed. "People are panicking."
Arjun stood slowly. The territory felt… thinner. Like a membrane stretched too tight.
"Get everyone inside the perimeter," Arjun ordered. "Double patrols."
Marcus nodded and moved quickly.
Nyxara watched Arjun closely. "This is how it starts."
He didn't look at her. "One death doesn't mean—"
"It means the system is no longer compensating for your indecision," she cut in sharply. "You're leaking pressure without direction."
Another vibration.
ANCHOR BLEED: EXPANDING
RISK: CASCADE FAILURE (LOW → MODERATE)
Arjun stared at the message.
"This is on me," he said.
"Yes," Nyxara replied. "And that's why you can fix it."
The second breach came before midnight.
This time, Arjun felt it.
A ripple through the Anchor field—sharp, invasive. He spun toward the sensation just as a shape detached itself from the shadows near the perimeter.
The drifter was tall and skeletal, skin stretched thin over elongated bones. Its eyes reflected light like glass. It smiled when it saw Arjun.
"You're loud," it rasped. "Unfinished."
Arjun didn't hesitate.
The Abyssal Mark flared, slamming into the creature with controlled force. The drifter shrieked as its form destabilized, collapsing into itself like wet paper.
The kill was quick.
But the damage was done.
The phone chimed.
HOSTILE NEUTRALIZED
ANCHOR STRAIN: CONTINUES
Nyxara landed beside him, wings folding in tight. "See the pattern?"
"Yes," Arjun said grimly. "They're testing gaps."
"And the gaps exist because you haven't decided what you are."
He looked at her sharply. "You keep saying I."
She met his gaze. "Because this choice is yours. I can't make it for you."
The bond pulsed—not demanding, not urging. Waiting.
Later, when the territory finally settled into a tense quiet, Arjun climbed back to the overpass alone.
He needed distance. Height. Perspective.
The city stretched out beneath him, scarred and burning, but alive in stubborn pockets. People huddled around fires. Patrols moved along assigned routes. Life, fragile and defiant.
He thought of the woman who'd died.
Of the people who believed in this place because of him.
The phone vibrated one last time.
ANCHOR EVOLUTION: FINAL PROMPT
UNRESOLVED STATUS WILL RESULT IN AUTOMATIC SELECTION
Arjun closed his eyes.
"No," he whispered. "I won't let it choose for me."
Nyxara appeared beside him, silent as ever.
"You've been avoiding the question," she said gently. "Not which path is safest—but which cost you're willing to pay."
He opened his eyes.
"I don't want to own people," he said. "And I won't become a wall."
She watched him carefully.
"So?"
"I'll be a conduit," Arjun said. "But on my terms."
Nyxara's eyes widened slightly.
"That path burns," she warned. "It will tie you to others. To their fear. Their hope."
"I know," he said. "But if power has to flow through me, then I decide where it goes."
The phone responded instantly.
ANCHOR EVOLUTION SELECTED: CONDUIT PATH
INITIALIZATION COMMENCING
The world shifted.
Arjun gasped as something rewired itself inside him—not violently, but deeply. The Anchor field restructured, no longer pressing outward blindly, but forming channels—pathways of controlled release.
He felt the territory breathe easier.
Nyxara stepped closer, awe flickering across her face. "You just made yourself indispensable."
Arjun steadied his breathing. "No."
He looked out over the city.
"I made myself responsible."
The system chimed softly.
ANCHOR STATUS: STABILIZED (NEW CONFIGURATION)
WARNING: CONDUIT PATH ATTRACTS GREATER ATTENTION
Arjun smiled grimly.
"Let it," he said.
Far beyond the skyline, something ancient shifted again—this time not with curiosity, but with interest.
The storm had found its shape.
And it was only beginning to gather.