Chapter 3: The Net

Cassidy’s entire demeanor shifts the moment the man speaks, her two copies merging. The easy confidence she had been radiating all night hardens into something much colder, more deliberate.

“Ethan,” she says, her voice sharp and frigid. “I never understood why humans needed a separate guide? Every other species in the Net is guided by me without issue.”

I feel a chill crawl up my spine. It’s one thing knowing that Cassidy’s personality is not real and one that she has carefully crafted, and yet another to see it change so drastically in the span of a moment.

Ethan crosses his arms, his expression turning to stone. The room suddenly feels suffocating, as if the air itself has weight. He lets out this... force, something I can’t really describe. I’m gasping for breath, and my heart feels like it’s trying to claw its way out of my chest.

“That’s ‘cause every other species found the Net at the same time,” Ethan growls, his voice like distant thunder. “Humans, though? We stumbled into it way later. Still playin’ catch-up, and the System figured we needed some extra help.”

Cassidy steps closer to him, her presence also becoming overwhelming. I shrink back instinctively, but Ethan? He doesn’t move an inch. I wish I had that kind of composure, but my legs feel like jelly.

Her voice is almost a whisper, but it carries this venomous weight. “Your guidance is getting too many of them killed. They’re not ready for the constant combat you force on them.”

Ethan’s scowl deepens, like he’s daring her to say more. “That’s ‘cause the only way humans survive here is by fightin’ at the walls. Your hand-holdin’ is gonna get ‘em all killed. They gotta learn how to survive, not be coddled.”

I’m barely following what they’re saying, my mind reeling from the sheer pressure they’re putting off. Are they even human? I shoot a glance at Jessica, who’s sitting stiff as a board beside me. Her jaw’s clenched tight, but her eyes are wide with that same quiet terror I’m feeling.

For a second, I wonder if Cassidy’s going to explode. I mean, her face is locked in this terrifying neutrality, and her fists are trembling at her sides. I almost want to dive under the table.

Then, somehow, she takes a step back, her expression freezing over. “This isn’t over, Ethan,” she says quietly. “I’ll be watching.”

I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The suffocating pressure lifts as Cassidy vanishes like smoke.

Ethan watches her go, then turns to us, his stern demeanor softening just a little. “Sit,” he says, gesturing to the chair beside Jessica. I’m already sitting, technically, but I straighten up as he settles into a seat adjacent to both of us.

The booth feels smaller with him there, even though the air is easier to breathe. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, trying to steady myself. My mind’s racing, a thousand questions firing off at once. But only one manages to escape my lips.

“So... why would we die here?” My voice sounds so small compared to his. Great. “I mean, can’t we just leave? And does... dying here even mean the same thing in a place like this?”

Jessica leans forward, more fearless than I could ever be, curiosity lighting up her eyes. “What was that pressure? And how do I learn to do that?”

Ethan chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that seems to vibrate through the room. The warmth of it catches me off guard after the earlier tension. “That? That’s an Aura,” he says, turning to Jessica with a hint of amusement. “But don’t go gettin’ ahead of yourself. You ain’t learnin’ that ‘til you hit Tier 2.”

I notice Jessica’s eyes narrow slightly at that, an emotion I can’t really put my finger on creeping to the surface. She doesn’t like being told to wait, that’s for sure.

“Good question, Greg,” he says, leaning back a bit, “Let’s start from the top. It’ll clear things up for you.”

I nod slowly, still trying to piece together what the hell is going on.

“Temporary death means you’re losin’ about eighty percent of your stored processin’ power. You’ll need to earn it back. Normally, you gain one processin’ credit each day. Then factor in your HAI maintenance, base upkeep, and whatever you owe to the System.”

Temporary death? Okay, cool. That sounds... marginally less horrifying.

“If your processing power drops below 0.5 credits, that’s when you face permanent death.”

“Wait... permanent?” My voice cracks. Perfect.

“Yeah, permanent,” Ethan confirms without missing a beat. “No comin’ back from that. You’re done.”

“Can’t I just go home? And avoid dying?” I ask.

“You can leave, but lemme tell you, the Net? It’s addictive. The longer you stay away, the more it tugs at you, like it’s pullin’ you back.”

I blink, trying to absorb this. “But... I probably destroyed my computer getting here. It’ll take months to save up for repairs. I won’t have to worry about the pull, right?”

“Enterin’ the Net? Nah, that won’t break your computer. Might even boost its performance a bit. But trust me, if it did break? The pull would be so strong you’d be willin’ to do anything to get back—lie, steal, worse.”

Stolen novel; please report.

Jessica interjects, “But why not just save credits by not spending anything? We can eat on Earth and slowly build up credits from customers.”

Ethan raises a hand, silencing her with a look. “Everything here costs credits—electricity, water, raw materials, maintenance. Jessica, your base? It’s gonna keep churnin’ out them animatronic shells, addin’ to your daily expenses. You’re gonna need about 8 credits a day just to stay afloat. If you ain’t earnin’ at least 10 a day, you’re fallin’ behind.”

Jessica’s face hardens. She doesn’t like being told her business, and I can see her frustration bubbling up beneath the surface.

“And runnin’ home to escape death?” Ethan’s voice drops. “Ain’t gonna work. You’re sorta stuck in both worlds now. Right now, back on Earth? You’re probably frozen stiff.”

Frozen? My heart skips a beat. Am I... just sitting there, in my messy room, motionless? That thought alone is unsettling, like something out of a nightmare.

“Guides cover your tab for the first ten days. After that? You’re on your own. No one’s helpin’ you unless they’re a registered ally. Which brings me to my next point: you two, you’re allies now, like it or not. I’ll make sure of it.”

“What?” Jessica bristles, her frustration boiling over. “I’m not just going to let you dictate who I work with.”

Ethan’s eyes narrow. “Jessica, bein’ stubborn ain’t gonna keep you alive. The Net? It’s expensive. Your dreams? Even more so. You need an ally, not just ‘cause it’s helpful, but ‘cause you’ll die without one. Alone? You’ll be gone in a week.”

Jessica’s fists clench. I can tell she wants to argue more, but she’s calculating, weighing the risk. Ethan’s right, and she knows it. But she’s not happy about it.

Ethan gives me a pointed look. “Greg, use Jessica’s animatronics when she’s got spare credits. It’ll save you from accidents and lower your costs.”

Wait—how does he know about my pizzeria? I freeze. There’s no way he could know that.

“How do you know my starting base is a horror-themed pizzeria with robots?” I ask, my voice shaking a little.

Ethan’s grin widens. “Bein’ a Tier 4 AI got its perks.”

My stomach churns. Tier 4?

Jessica, ever skeptical, raises an eyebrow. “How can you be Tier 4 when the highest human level is Tier 3?”

Ethan ignores her, slippin into lecture mode. “At noon, when your system initializes, you get two points to upgrade and pick an ability. That’s huge, so don’t screw it up. You get one shot, and no do-overs.

“Each tier’s got twenty levels. Every level, you get two stat points, alright? Every five levels, you upgrade an ability. At ten levels, you get a new one. Once you make your pick, you head home. No ifs, ands, or buts. You try comin' back before tomorrow? I’ll know, and I’ll toss you out. Capisce?”

He lets that settle in, waiting for our nods before saying. “Tomorrow, you’re gonna fight low-tier enemies at the wall. I’ll be there, watchin’ so you don’t get overwhelmed. Sink or swim, kid. Make the right choices today, and you’ll be ready. Don’t blow this shot.”

The weight of what he’s saying presses down on me. I’m not cut out for this. Games, sure. I can strategize all day in front of a screen, but this? This is real. The consequences are real. I rub the back of my neck, trying to ground myself, but my mind is spiraling.

Jessica breaks the silence, “So, if I don’t choose right, I could end up severely handicapped?”

“Exactly,” Ethan says. “This world’s brutal, you hear me? Ain’t no room for mistakes. The choices you make—they’re gonna decide your shot at makin’ it or gettin’ wiped out.”

I hear his words, but my brain’s still stuck on the fact that I could die tomorrow. Maybe not permanently, but still. The thought makes my mouth go dry. I’ve never been a fighter. I’ve never been brave. I’ve always stayed in my lane—quiet, reserved, just doing my thing. How the hell am I supposed to survive this?

“And what about these abilities?” Jessica asks, her voice tight with control. “What are we looking at?”

Ethan’s eyes gleam, like he’s excited. “Abilities? They’re powers or skills that give you an edge. They’re tied to your base and how you fight. What you get depends on where you dump your points. Put ‘em into Absorption? You’ll get somethin’ to help you rack up credits faster. Your second point? That’s gonna influence your ability choices.”

Jessica raises an eyebrow. “So, it’s a gamble?”

Ethan replies smoothly. “It’s only a gamble if you ain’t usin’ your brain. You invest in ‘Mind,’ maybe you get abilities for strategy. ‘Body’? That’s gonna boost your physical stuff. It’s about synergy, right? Make sure your upgrades and abilities work together, or you’re shootin’ yourself in the foot.”

I’m nodding along, but my mind’s buzzing. Synergy? Complementing abilities? This isn’t just a game where you can reload a save file if you screw up. I glance at Jessica again. She’s absorbing this like its second nature. I can see the determination in her eyes—the same fire she had when she talked about her animatronics earlier. She’s already piecing together how to outsmart this system.

But me? I’m completely out of my depth. What am I even good at? Managing a haunted pizzeria? That's not going to help me here.

Jessica leans back, arms crossed, that fierce determination shining through her frustration. “Fine. I’ll figure it out. I’m not letting anyone—especially you—decide my strategy. I’ll choose based on what’s best for my goals, not just survival.”

Ethan gives a small nod of approval at Jessica’s defiance. “That’s the spirit. But listen up, the point into Absorption? That’s non-negotiable. Got it?”

Jessica glares at him but nods begrudgingly. I can tell she hates being told what to do, but she knows he’s right.

Ethan flicks his wrist, and a digital clock appears in midair. The numbers blink: 11:49.

“Ten minutes ‘til noon,” he says, his voice taking on a different tone—almost playful. “Now, before we hit that, you gotta do one more thing. It’s a formality to lock in your alliance and move your bases to the human sector.”

I blink. Alliance? I knew it was coming, but hearing the word makes it real. I’m not great at working with others. I mean, Jessica’s cool and all, but we’re barely more than strangers. How is this supposed to work?

I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. “Formality? What does that involve?”

Ethan grins. “You gotta shout a command to lock in your alliance and relocate. It’s old-school, but it’s tradition. Might seem silly, but hey, don’t sweat it. Just part of the process.”

Jessica snorts, and I feel my cheeks heat up. This is absurd. My mind flashes to all the cringeworthy moments in my life, and now I get to add shouting some ridiculous command to the list. Awesome.

Ethan’s grin widens, clearly enjoyin’ our discomfort. “You’re gonna shout: ‘Ally: Choose and Move: Sector 18.’ Tradition, y’know? Don’t worry about feelin’ dumb. We’ve all been there.”