It was late, way past midnight. The alley was dead quiet, except for the occasional car horn in the distance. Only one apartment had a light on, a small room at the back of the building.
Inside, the place was a disaster. Empty soda cans cluttered the desk, fast-food wrappers stuffed into trash bags that hadn’t been taken out in days, and cups of soda just sitting there, probably growing something nasty by now. The room stunk—greasy food, spilled drinks, and a bit of sweat.
Sitting in the middle of this mess was a 24-year-old guy, hunched over his laptop with a dumb grin plastered on his face. He took a sip from yet another cup of soda, eyes glued to the screen, scrolling through tabs—Stack Overflow, an AI chatbot, and a few websites he’d probably forgotten about. His fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Programming’s a joke these days, he thought, almost laughing out loud. His seniors were always going on about how hard things used to be. "Updating server codes was such a pain," they’d say. He rolled his eyes just thinking about it.
"Yeah, right," he muttered, fingers flying across the keys. "They didn’t have AI doing half the work for them."
With a smirk, he hit Submit. Done. Just like that.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied grin. As the screen dimmed, his mind wandered back to how he’d made it through school. He remembered that damn thesis—yeah, the one that should’ve been a nightmare to complete. But instead, it had been a breeze, thanks to his trusty companions: a handful of AI chatbots, a lot of Stack Overflow, and, of course, Reddit. The unsung heroes of every modern programmer.
Sure, he technically learned programming. He could talk the talk—knew how to explain the structure, the logic behind the language, all that fancy stuff. But when it came down to writing actual code? The AI had his back, practically doing the heavy lifting. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to code. He just... didn’t have to.
Some people would probably call that cheating, maybe even call him out for relying too much on the AI or leaning on random strangers in coding forums. But he had a different perspective. He called it being resourceful. Why struggle through something when there were tools specifically made to make life easier?
I mean, come on, he thought, laughing to himself. The dudes who made AI didn’t do it so we’d keep doing everything the hard way. They built it for the same reason everyone did anything in tech—for efficiency. And, let’s be real, "efficiency" was just the polite way of saying, "How can I get this done while doing the least amount of work possible?"
He smirked again, grabbing his half-empty cup of soda. "Efficient," he muttered, taking a sip, "that’s what we’re calling it now."
He chuckled to himself, remembering all the doomsday posts he’d scrolled through on social media. There were always people panicking about AI being the end of humanity, as if the machines were one bad line of code away from going full Terminator on everyone. He shook his head.
"I mean, come on," he muttered, "we've all seen those movies, but seriously, the guys who made Skynet? Probably a bunch of idiots." He took another sip of soda, his mind wandering into sarcastic territory. If the AI's gonna wipe us out, maybe, I don’t know, add a line that says 'Don’t kill humanity'? Problem solved.
He could almost picture it now: a programmer somewhere in the future, staring at their screen as the AI writes itself into a corner. "Oh no, the machine's gone rogue! Quick, add a 'don’t' to the 'kill all humans' function!" He snorted. How people could freak out about something so easy to fix was beyond him. AI wasn’t some mystical force from the future here to take over the world—it was just a tool. A very, very smart tool, but still just a tool.
"Besides," he continued to himself, half-grinning, "if AI ever gets that smart, maybe we deserve to be wiped out for being too dumb to control it."
He leaned back in his chair, smirking at his own train of thought. "Humans are humans, cows are cows, and AI is AI," he muttered, waving his hand in the air like he was giving some grand philosophical speech. "Each has its own job. You can’t turn a cow into a human, just like you can’t turn AI into a person."
He took another swig of soda, shrugging to himself. Sure, the engineers probably crammed all kinds of human morality into the AI. Made it learn the difference between right and wrong, gave it all the lessons so it doesn’t suddenly flip a switch and become Skynet. But that didn’t make it human. It was still just a tool, built for one reason: to make humans’ lives easier, or as he liked to call it, to make humans lazier.
"Let’s be real," he muttered with a snort, "they didn’t do all that 'AI with morals' stuff out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s all just for 'efficiency.' So we don’t accidentally create some robot overlords that make us work harder than we already do."
In the end, AI wasn’t going to be some world-conquering, humanity-ending force. It was just another tool humans created to cut corners. All that fearmongering? Just noise. "If anything, AI's just a reflection of us—lazy but trying to look productive." He let out a laugh, amused at the absurdity of it all.
As the last bit of soda slurped out with that annoying hollow sound, he sighed, setting the cup down with a thud. He glanced at the sea of trash on the floor and, with little enthusiasm, started kicking the cans out of his path as he stood up. Time for a refill. The 24/7 minimart was just around the corner anyway. No big deal.
As he grabbed his phone and lazily checked his bank balance, a number flashed on the screen—$356,000. He snorted, half in disbelief. It was laughable how easy it was to make money these days. A few lines of code, a side project here and there, and bam—he was rolling in cash. No office job, no nine-to-five grind, just him, his laptop, and a mountain of soda cans. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how absurd it all felt.
Walking down the hallway toward the door, he thought about his life. Hell, most of the people he knew were already married, settling down like it was the most natural thing in the world. He, on the other hand? Not even close. He shrugged it off. That whole idea seemed kinda... old-school. "Get married, have kids, live happily ever after." Yeah, no thanks.
If you’re already happy alone, he thought, pushing open the door to the night air, why rush to marry someone? If you’re gonna do it, you should marry the one who makes you happier, not just because everyone else is doing it.
He chuckled again, walking down the alley. The way he saw it, people were just racing against the inevitable. Married or not, it didn’t matter. Everyone ended up the same way—dust in the ground. You’d rot just like everyone else, married or single, rich or poor. If there was an afterlife, well, that was future him's problem. For now, he was alive and kicking, and that was enough.
"Why stress about it?" he muttered with a smirk as he walked toward the minimart. "Just enjoy the ride while you’re still here." He laughed at how simple it seemed when he put it like that. Life wasn’t that complicated—it was just humans who made it feel that way.
As he strolled down the dark alley, heading toward the brightly lit minimart sign flickering like a beacon of hope, the atmosphere shifted. The night felt suddenly heavier, and he noticed a figure stepping out from the shadows. A dark-skinned young man, wearing a jacket that hung a bit too loose and a mask covering his face, moved toward him with an air of menace.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
“Hey, man, pay up!” the guy demanded, brandishing a knife that glinted under the minimal light.
The moment the threat registered, something inside him snapped. Without even thinking, he acted. In one swift motion, he knocked the knife aside, throwing a couple of quick punches to the guy’s torso. The blows landed with enough force to make the guy stumble back. Guess those Kali lessons weren’t just for show, he thought, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He could see the uncertainty flicker in the young man’s eyes. Probably just another punk thinking he could intimidate people. But he knew better. If things got messy, he could hold his own—especially if it was just fists. Now, if someone rolled up with a gun? That was a different ball game entirely. But with a little distance, he felt confident.
The would-be mugger backed off, panic rising in his eyes. “You think you’re tough?” he shouted, but there was fear in his voice now.
Before the young man could say anything else, he turned to run.
He shook his head, half-amused and half-annoyed. "What a fucking loser," he muttered, chuckling as he watched the guy disappear into the night. Next time, pick someone else to mess with. As he made his way back toward the minimart, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline and a sense of satisfaction. Just another night in the city—same old shit, different day.
As he approached the minimart, something caught his eye across the street—a new fast-food joint with a bright “24/7” sign blinking in cheerful defiance of the late hour. He couldn’t remember seeing it before, and his stomach growled at the thought of greasy fries and burgers. Maybe I’ll hit that up later, he thought, moving toward the pedestrian lane.
But in his distracted state, he didn’t see the truck barreling down the road, speeding like it was in a race. Suddenly, a loud noise pierced the air—Host Found. He barely registered it before he felt the ground shift beneath him. Wait, what?
Before he could react, the world tilted, and he was falling. Time slowed down. He glanced back at the oncoming truck, the headlights glaring like angry suns, and for a split second, he couldn’t help but grin. “Not today, truck-kun!” he shouted, the words bursting out with a mix of disbelief and defiance as the blinding white light enveloped him.
It was like diving into a pool of light, a soft cushion of brightness that felt oddly welcoming. He could almost hear the truck’s tires screeching as he fell, but all he felt was that light, wrapping around him like a blanket. What the hell is happening?
In that surreal moment, he half-expected to wake up in some bizarre alternate universe or be greeted by a chorus of angels. But he was too busy reveling in the absurdity of it all. With a final laugh echoing in the void, he surrendered to the strange sensation, ready for whatever came next.
As he floated in that strange, warm light, the words started to seep into his consciousness, pulling him back from whatever dream he had been in. “Initiating transfer. Codex uploading to host.” The voice was mechanical but oddly soothing, like a calm AI guide leading him through some digital landscape.
He wanted to grasp what was happening, to fight against the sensation, but everything felt hazy, like trying to remember a dream upon waking. Just as quickly as the light surrounded him, it faded, replaced by an all-consuming darkness. What the hell is going on? he thought, the question hanging in the void.
Then, just like that, everything went black again.
He couldn’t tell how long he lingered in that void, but it felt like an eternity, a weightless nothingness that held no sense of time or space. It was unsettling yet oddly peaceful. He tried to move, tried to shake off the feeling of being trapped, but it was like swimming in molasses.
Then, just as he began to accept the darkness, flashes of images erupted in his mind—lines of code, circuits, and digital landscapes swirling in a kaleidoscope of colors. Concepts and data streamed through him like an endless flow of information, each fragment clicking into place like puzzle pieces finding their spots.
Codex uploading to host. The phrase echoed again, resonating deep within him. It felt like he was becoming something more, something different. As the data continued to flow, he felt a spark of understanding, a connection forming between him and the code.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the blackness flickered, and he felt a jolt. A surge of awareness rushed through him, pulling him from the depths of nothingness back into existence.
In the mountains of Terrallium, where jagged peaks kissed the clouds and the air crackled with magic, a small light portal flickered into existence at the edge of a rocky platform. With a sudden whoosh, Thomas Wiles fell through the shimmering portal, landing hard on the unforgiving rocky surface below. Pain shot through his body, but his mind was hazy, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.
He blinked against the harsh sunlight filtering through the trees of the vast forest that spread out below him like a green ocean of life. Where am I? he thought, trying to piece together the fragmented memories swirling in his head.
Then it all came rushing back. He remembered his name, the one that was once his only constant. Thomas Wiles. An orphan, raised by a wealthy couple who couldn’t have children of their own. They had taken him in at the age of twelve, giving him a life of privilege that felt both like a gift and a cage. His adopted parents were in their sixties, old enough to be his grandparents, yet they loved him fiercely. They groomed him to be the heir to a massive electronics empire, teaching him everything from business ethics to engineering principles.
But Thomas wasn’t interested in following the traditional path laid out for him. Fuck that economics shit, he had thought. Instead, he found his passion in programming, diving headfirst into code and the digital world. He was making money in his cramped apartment, living a life of freedom and laziness, surrounded by half-empty soda cans and the hum of his laptop.
Then came truck-kun—the unfortunate end of his mundane existence. A moment of distraction, and he’d been taken out before he even realized what was happening. Now, here he was, dropped into this strange new world, completely naked. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. At least I still have my willy, he thought with a wry grin. A man like him, stripped of everything else, still had to hold onto that little piece of identity.
Rising to his feet, he brushed off the dirt and took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the mountains and forest around him. This wasn’t just a new chapter—it was an entirely new book. A world full of magic and possibilities awaited him, and he was determined to figure out what it all meant.
As Thomas breathed in the fresh, crisp air of this new world, he felt a wave of energy wash over him. The scent of pine and wildflowers filled his lungs, grounding him in the moment. He looked around, taking in the towering trees that swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves shimmering like emeralds in the sunlight. It felt surreal, almost like he was trapped in a dream.
His gaze was drawn upward, where shapes glided gracefully across the sky. At first, they looked like birds, but as he squinted against the bright sun, he realized they had the unmistakable outline of dragons. Their scales glinted in the light, and their wings spread wide as they soared through the air, casting fleeting shadows over the forest below. Dragons? Really? he thought, disbelief mingling with awe.
Maybe this was all just a dream. Perhaps he was lying in a hospital bed, in a coma after getting hit by that damn truck. He could almost hear the soft, concerned voices of his adoptive parents echoing in his mind, scolding him for being so stubborn, for choosing the path of a programmer over the family business. “You could’ve had it all, Thomas!” they’d say, their disappointment palpable.
But here, in this vibrant world filled with magic and wonder, he felt a flicker of rebellion against that nagging guilt. Maybe he had been stubborn, but what was wrong with wanting something different? He hadn’t asked to be thrust into this life of privilege, and he had certainly never envisioned himself sitting behind a desk, pushing paper in a stuffy office.
He shook his head, clearing the remnants of his past from his mind. No more of that. This was his chance to redefine himself, to explore this fantastical world that seemed to stretch endlessly before him. Who knew what adventures awaited? What if he could learn magic or tame one of those dragons soaring high above?
“Okay, Thomas,” he muttered to himself, a grin breaking across his face. “Let’s see what this place has to offer.” With a newfound determination, he set off toward the forest, ready to embrace whatever lay ahead.
But before he could leap into adventure, reality hit him harder than the damn truck. How the hell am I gonna get down from this damn place?
He looked down from the rocky platform, high in the mountains, and realized the steep drop to the lush forest below was daunting. The thought of slipping sent a chill down his spine.
“Alright, Thomas,” he muttered, taking a step back. “Time to figure this out.” Whatever awaited him down there, he wasn’t about to let a little altitude stop him. This was his chance—his new life—and he was ready to take it on.