The world didn't end with a bang; for Caleb Vane, it ended with a pop-up window.
Rain slicked the neon-drenched streets of St. Lazarus, smearing the holographic advertisements into watercolour blurs of pink and electric blue. Caleb sat in the passenger seat of an unmarked police cruiser, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn't help. The text was burned into his retinas.
[WARNING: SYSTEM OVERHEAT]
[CURRENT STRESS LEVEL: 88%]
[RECOMMENDATION: CONSUME ALCOHOL OR SEDATIVES IMMEDIATELY]
"You're doing that thing with your face again," a voice said from the driver's seat.
Caleb opened one eye—a red targeted box locked onto the driver's face.
[ENTITY: DETECTIVE MAYA CORWIN]
[CLASS: LAWFUL GOOD / PAIN IN THE ASS]
[MOOD: IRRITATED (92%)]
"I'm meditating, Detective," Caleb lied, adjusting his sunglasses. They were polarised, custom-tinted to dim the chaotic interface that overlaid his vision, but they couldn't block it entirely. "Trying to align my chakras before we see the dead guy."
Detective Maya Corwin didn't look at him. She gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckle intensity, navigating the mag-lev traffic of the Lower Sector. She was twenty-four, sharp as a razor, and wore her uniform like it was religious vestment.
"It's a homicide, Caleb. Not a yoga retreat," she snapped. "And try to behave. The Chief is only letting you 'consult' on this because he thinks your background in... social engineering... might help with the tech angle. One toe out of line, and you go back to the holding cell."
"Social engineering," Caleb mused. "Is that what we're calling 'lying professionally' these days?"
"Just read the file."
Caleb glanced at the digital tablet she tossed him. He didn't need to read it. As soon as his hand touched the device, a floating blue window expanded in his peripheral vision, scrolling through the metadata faster than any human could read.
Victim: Arthur Sterling. Age 45. CEO of OmniBank. Found in his penthouse. Cause of death: Unknown.
"Boring," Caleb muttered.
"He was found standing up," Maya said.
Caleb paused. "Hanging?"
"No. Standing. Middle of the room. Just... stopped."
Caleb frowned, watching the city blur past. "That's physically impossible. Even with rigor, gravity takes the path of least resistance. He should have slumped."
"Tell that to the first responders," Maya said, steering the cruiser sharply toward the curb.
The vehicle hummed to a halt in front of the OmniBank Spire—a monolith of glass and steel that pierced the smog like a needle. It was ninety stories of arrogance, disappearing into the low-hanging clouds.
"We're here," Maya said, killing the engine. "Put your game face on. And by game face, I mean shut up and look professional."
Caleb sighed, opening the door. The moment he stepped onto the pavement, the digital noise hit him. This wasn't just a building; it was a server farm disguised as a residence. The air was thick with encrypted data streams.
They flashed their badges at the lobby security and headed for the private lift.
The elevator ride to the 90th floor was a nightmare. The higher they went, the more Wi-Fi signals Caleb's brain intercepted. His vision swarmed with overlapping SSIDs, smart-fridge status updates, and leaky data packets from the neighbors.
[WARNING: BANDWIDTH EXCEEDED]
[CONNECTION DETECTED: SMART TOASTER - TOAST BURNT]
[CONNECTION DETECTED: SECURITY CAM 4 - RECORDING]
He massaged his temples, leaning against the mirrored wall. To anyone else, he looked like a hungover junkie fighting the urge to vomit. In reality, he was drowning in information.
When the doors finally slid open, the penthouse smelled of lavender and ozone. Uniformed officers were already swarming the place, dusting surfaces and scanning for DNA.
"Detective Corwin," a coroner in a hazmat suit waved them over. "You're late. And you brought the circus." He glared at Caleb.
"Consultant," Caleb corrected, stepping past the police tape. [RELATIONSHIP STATUS: HOSTILE] floated over the coroner's head in jagged red letters.
And then, Caleb saw the body.
Arthur Sterling was indeed standing. He was dressed in a silk robe, one hand extended as if reaching for a glass of water that wasn't there. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at an abstract painting on the wall. He was frozen mid-stride, balanced on one foot in a way that defied physics.
"Rigor mortis set in instantly," the coroner explained, tapping his datapad. "Never seen anything like it. It's like his muscles turned to stone in a millisecond. Heart stopped. Brain activity zero. Time of death: roughly four hours ago."
Maya moved closer, squinting at the victim. "Poison? A nerve agent?"
"Toxicology is running now," the coroner said. "But he's dead as a doornail. We're about to bag him."
Caleb took off his sunglasses. The room dimmed, but the Overlay flared to life, bright and aggressive. He focused on Arthur Sterling.
The air around the "corpse" was shimmering with digital noise. It wasn't the grey static of death. It was the spinning blue circle of a loading screen.
[ERROR: CONNECTION TIMEOUT]
[ENTITY: ARTHUR STERLING]
[STATUS: BUFFERING... 99%]
[HEARTBEAT: PACKET LOSS]
Caleb's breath hitched. He's not dead. He's lagging.
The universe—or whatever broken simulation Caleb was plugged into—had paused Arthur Sterling. The man was stuck between one second and the next. If they moved him now, if they zipped him into a body bag and cut off his oxygen while the server tried to catch up, he would be gone forever.
"Don't touch him!" Caleb shouted.
The room went silent. Every cop turned to look at him.
"Excuse me?" the coroner bristled.
Caleb's mind raced. He couldn't say, 'The victim is experiencing high latency.' They would institutionalize him. He needed a lie. A good one.
He strode forward, waving his hands theatrically. "I sense... a vibration."
Maya groaned. "Caleb, don't."
"No, seriously," Caleb walked circles around the frozen man, pretending to sniff the air. "Look at the pupil dilation. Look at the micro-tension in the jaw. This isn't rigor mortis. It's... an ancient Himalayan paralysis technique. The 'Breath of the Stone Serpent.'"
"The what?" The coroner looked at Maya. "Is he drunk?"
"He's a consultant," Maya sighed, looking ready to draw her weapon on her own partner. "Caleb, step back. They need to transport the body."
"If you move him, you kill him!" Caleb blocked the coroner's path.
[WARNING: CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT]
[SYNCING IN: 3... 2...]
The spinning wheel above Arthur's head was speeding up. The lag spike was ending. Caleb saw the data packets flooding back in. He needed to shock the system. He needed a trigger.
Caleb grabbed a heavy marble bust of Julius Caesar from a side table.
"Hey!" a cop shouted.
"Clear!" Caleb yelled.
"Drop the statue!" Maya commanded, hand on her holster.
Caleb ignored her. He didn't aim for the victim. He aimed for the floor, right next to Arthur's ear.
He smashed the marble bust onto the hardwood. CRACK.
The sound was like a gunshot.
In the Overlay: [SYNC COMPLETE. RESUMING.]
In reality: Arthur Sterling gasped. A horrible, wet sucking sound, like a man breaking the surface of deep water.
The "corpse" collapsed, flailing wildly, knocking over a vase. Arthur screamed, clutching his chest, eyes darting around the room in terror.
"Help! The connection! It cut—" Arthur wheezed before passing out on the floor, very much alive.
The coroner dropped his datapad. The uniform cops jumped back. Maya stood frozen, her mouth slightly open, looking from the unconscious banker to Caleb.
Caleb dusted off his hands and put his sunglasses back on. His head was pounding like a drum.
"Stone Serpent technique," Caleb said, pointing a finger at Maya. "The acoustic shockwave disrupts the paralysis. You can read about it on Wikipedia if you have the clearance."
He walked toward the balcony, needing fresh air before he threw up. "You're welcome, by the way."
Maya stared at his back. She didn't buy the 'Stone Serpent' crap for a second. But she also looked down at the man who was supposed to be dead.
"Who the hell are you, Caleb?" she whispered.
[QUEST UPDATED: SURVIVE THE PARTNER]
[DIFFICULTY: HARD]