CHAPTER NINE
A Bargain
What had he just said?
The ward dispelled the progression of corruption? No, not that part.
He was planning to take our Obelisk, the very one that provided the ward and kept this district alive. The only thing stopping beasts from swarming in and slaughtering us all.
From slaughtering Meris, Jharim, and Elina.
My new family in this twisted city.
It would have been just like what happened to my old family, all over again, leaving me to wander alone in the fog.
I had avoided violence all my life, but at that moment—despite knowing this man, or rather, this monster, could easily kill the three beasts he had dispatched earlier—I felt compelled to fight him.
A fire surged in my chest, pumping hot blood through my veins, and the few muscles on my body tensed. The monster noticed but seemed unconcerned. He undoubtedly viewed me as nothing more than an insignificant threat. Truth be told, I knew I was no match for him.
Yet I would not let him destroy them.
“I see you did not like the idea,” he said calmly, as though discussing simple matters. “Honestly, I was not sure how your people—this city’s inhabitants—built such a device. Creatures who originally could not even sense mana managed to construct something capable of warding off corruption. It would be a wonder to have such an invention in my world. And the only thing blocking me from it is a handful of ants and, well… you.” His tone did not drip with hatred, only a sort of factual certainty.
It seemed to me this was the truth of the world, the strong took what they wanted. There was no compassion. Might dictated what was just.
“I guess you will have to start with me, then,” I said, “because even if I die here, I will fight you before you set one foot inside that ward.” The words spilled out, and at once I felt a surge of energy—perhaps it was this mana he spoke of.
An immense flux rippled through the air, distorting the fog around him. A crushing pressure slammed into me, driving me toward the ground.
Still, even as I trembled under the invisible weight, I crawled forward, grabbing a loose stone along the way. Almost a full minute dragged by as I inched toward the man disguised as a human, who remained seated and unfazed.
It took all my strength just to stand, but I managed it. With what little energy I had left, I smashed the stone into his face.
It accomplished nothing.
“See, you have put me in an impasse.” He spoke as the crushing force subsided, and I tried to swing another blow. He remained as unmoved as if a fly were buzzing around his head. “I see you’d fight me no matter how hopeless it is, and that’s the problem.”
Then he added, “You simply do not die. I have studied your unique condition for a while now, yet I still know very little about it. All I can tell is that it has been tainted by mana for a very, very long time—thousands of years, perhaps—until it reached this level of stability.”
After a few more futile swings, my anger faded, and I gave up attacking. As expected, not one scratch marked his face or even his clothing.
He continued as though I had never tried to harm him. “Not that you are a threat in any way, even in your corrupted state. But this condition of yours is far more precious than that Obelisk, as you call it. Why do we not strike a bargain? After all, there must be other wards in this city. I could simply go to another district and take their Obelisk instead.”
He talked about destroying an entire district the way one might discuss casual chores. Yet deep down, I believed he could do it. We had old tales about creatures who could weaken or shatter wards, and perhaps they were beings like him, drawn here by the wards’ engineering.
The wards, our only protection, just like the corruption, might be a beacon for demons like him.
“I will agree to anything,” I said, desperation setting in. “Just do not destroy the ward in this district. You can have my… unique condition. Take it.”
I did not even care that I was still standing in the fog, or that without this so-called condition, I would probably be dead soon anyway.
In truth, I had always suspected there was no such thing as a mere “long sleep.” When others starved, they died; they did not slip into some suspended state. I had known from the beginning that what happened to me was not normal.
But I never wanted to think about it. The long sleep always came to obscure the harsh truths.
Now, though, I would gladly give it up if it meant stopping this monster from destroying District 98.
The man—no, the monster—smiled thinly. “That is generous, but if taking your condition were possible, I would have done it already. And that Obelisk would already be mine. I have not stayed here for days waiting for you to wake up just to ask your permission.”
“So what do you want from me, then?” I asked.
“At first, I hoped you would know more about your condition,” he replied. “But that does not seem to be the case. I want knowledge, information about how to replicate such a feat. You see, everything dies eventually, even the mightiest. You do not. Therefore, I would like to learn how to acquire that power.”
I tried to grasp his request. He could not simply extract it from me, so instead he wanted to know how one would become capable of these so-called long sleeps. But I barely understood it myself.
It felt absurd. I did not even know the first step to explaining what happened to me.
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He rose from the ground, reaching into what looked like an empty space, as if searching for something invisible. “While traveling through this city,” he said, “I found this...” Then, from that same void, he pulled out a syringe. “This is an Assistance AI, essentially nanobots with an intelligence of their own. A creation of your people, built to integrate with human biology and provide assistance. I want to inject you with it.”
A syringe? It looked strange, almost archaic in design, but at the same time impossibly advanced. Regardless, none of it mattered as long as the people in my district were spared. Yet a cautious thought crept up. “Why didn’t you do this before? Why bother asking my permission?”
“It’s not something I can force,” he explained. “Integration only works with the approval of the intended user. You’ll need to request a deep scan and then share the results with me, so I can learn about your condition from inside out. Perhaps it’ll even have information on your origins. This AI your people built fascinates me. Pity they made it solely for humans, but I have other samples; one day, I might crack the technology fully.”
Everything about his words made me uneasy. Here he was, calmly discussing how he had stumbled across advanced technology in a city ravaged by the fog, presumably looting it for knowledge. Or worse. But if he had simply destroyed some other district, wouldn’t he already possess the ward technology he wanted?
No, that had to mean he hadn’t destroyed a district with an Obelisk yet, or else he wouldn’t need ours.
“Can I remove it afterward?” I asked, although in truth, it made little difference. I had no real choice.
He paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Not sure. From the notes your people kept on this device, I think the answer is no. You do know about cells, right? According to those same documents, it modifies the user’s DNA, like changing the ‘recipe’ of your body so it will keep producing these nanobots over time. Even these nanobots can’t last forever in your system, so the body must replenish them.”
Approaching me with the syringe in hand, he waited until I gave him a small nod, then he slid the needle into my arm and injected me.
“Also,” he added, “even if you found some way to remove it, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s a powerful tool.”
I tried to imagine what that meant, another being inside my body, assisting me by scanning my cells or something along those lines. Yet the idea of it having its own intelligence was unsettling. I’d heard of single-use artifacts found in the city, devices that could improve someone’s physical abilities or extend their life span, but never anything that involved microscopic machines with minds of their own. I couldn’t see why anyone would willingly accept that.
Unless they had no other option, like me.
Minutes passed. Other than the initial prick of the needle, there was no pain. For a while, I thought the injection might have failed or done nothing. Then, an odd sensation washed through my thoughts, as if a completely foreign idea entered my mind. It wasn’t a visual hallucination exactly, more like a mental prompt hovering in my consciousness.
[AI Assistance Kara]
[Would you like to proceed with full system implementation?]
[Yes / No]
I didn’t want this, but I truly had no choice. “Yes,” I murmured aloud.
A wrenching agony tore through my body, so intense that I collapsed to the ground. For what felt like an hour, every nerve screamed. I could do nothing but roll onto my side, gasping for air.
[AI Assistance Kara]
[User Notification]
[No pain suppression was detected during the implementation procedure.]
[User should have used an anesthetic before full system implementation.]
After a few more minutes, the pain subsided, leaving me drenched in sweat and trembling. I realized these nanobots, this Kara, were now part of me.
“Well, that’s good,” the man said. “Now request a deep scan and identification, then write down everything you find on some blank pages of that book. I’ll need them.”
“How do I do that?” I asked, still shaky.
“I assume you only need to think it, with the intent to communicate. I believe this AI is constantly monitoring your thoughts by now.”
A chill ran down my spine at the notion that this thing would be hearing my every thought from now on, possibly forever.
[AI Assistance Kara]
[While this function cannot be disabled, user should know that all information is utilized for the user’s benefit, as per Araksiun parameters.]
Somehow, that assurance felt even more ominous. But I had agreed to all this to protect District 98, so I steadied myself and thought, “Can you perform the deep scan he asked for, as well as check any identification records you might have about me?”
[AI Assistance Kara]
[Yes, user is identified as Test Subject #5439, from Project ‘Human Core Formation.’]
[Performing deep body scan…]
[...]
[Test Subject #5439 is severely malnourished, anemic, and advised to consume more healthy food sources and engage in regular exercise.]
“Test subject? That’s even worse than people calling me Omen. And what’s this Project Human Core Formation? Is that from District 7?” I asked Kara, half expecting a direct answer.
[AI Assistance Kara]
[Negative. District 7, as per user’s memories, is not related to Project Human Core Formation.]
“Then who started this project? What’s it about?”
[AI Assistance Kara]
[Project Human Core Formation is an initiative to enable humankind to survive forced creation of cores and adapt to mana. Information regarding those responsible is beyond the user’s current permissions.]
Again with these cores. So the project was about making them artificially? And since I’m test subject number 5439, it must not have gone well.
“What about this ‘unique condition’, my long sleeps?” I asked. “What does it say about that?”
[AI Assistance Kara]
[User’s biological configuration was altered at birth to enable a state of ‘anhydrobiosis,’ a near-complete shutdown of metabolic activity in which specialized proteins prevent aggregation and denaturation. The user’s body then activates accelerated repair pathways during this dormant state.]
[Based on the user’s scan, this ability has undergone further changes due to ‘Mana Corruption,’ and the full extent of these modifications cannot be determined under current analytical limits.]
“Anhydrobiosis? What in the world is that supposed to be?”
Kara repeated the explanation verbatim, talking about suspended metabolic processes and specialized proteins, as if that clarified everything. I sighed.
“Never mind,” I muttered. “That was more of a rhetorical question.”
Taking out my book, I recorded every piece of information from Kara’s scan on a few blank pages, then handed them over to the old man who was watching me impassively.
“#5439…” he said, scanning what I had written. “Is that how your kind usually names each other? It’s efficient, but it lacks finesse.”
“No,” I replied. “My name is Omen. That machine you gave me must be broken.”
[AI Assistance Kara]
[No malfunction detected. Would the user like to change #5439 to Omen?]
[Yes / No]
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
[AI Assistance Kara]
[User is now named Omen.]