For better or worse, Kyle was part of the System now. And it wasn’t going to let him go.

Kyle lay sprawled on the couch, staring at the faintly glowing threads drifting lazily around his apartment. Now that the Aberration was gone and the threads had stabilized, the world seemed calmer. Yet, Kyle felt anything but calm. His mind raced with questions—about the System, the threads, and the power that had surged through him during the fight.

He raised a hand, willing the energy to return, but nothing happened. No glow, no hum, no faint crackle of mana. Just his tired, trembling fingers.

“Come on,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. He focused harder, remembering the feeling from earlier—the warmth in his chest, the pulse of the threads, the instinctive sense of control. But no matter how hard he tried, the mana stayed stubbornly silent.

“Mana reserves critically low. Recovery required before additional usage.”

Kyle flinched as the System’s voice echoed in his head again. “Yeah, you mentioned that. What does ‘recovery’ mean? Like, sleep? Food? A bottle of Gatorade?”

“Recovery occurs naturally through rest or exposure to ambient mana flows. Enhanced recovery can be achieved by aligning with concentrated energy sources or consuming mana-infused sustenance.”

“Right. That’s… helpful,” Kyle muttered, rubbing his temples. “So basically, I just wait?”

“Correct. Additionally, as an Aether-aligned User, meditation on local mana flows will accelerate regeneration and improve resonance.”

Kyle sat up, groaning as his sore muscles protested. “Meditation? You want me to sit cross-legged and hum? That’s what’s gonna fix this?”

The System didn’t respond, which he took as confirmation. With a sigh, he shifted into a slightly less slouched position, closing his eyes. He didn’t know how to meditate, but he figured it couldn’t be that hard. Focus on the threads, right? Feel the energy. Relax.

At first, nothing happened. The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the walls. Kyle tried to picture the threads in his mind, remembering how they had pulsed and shifted. Slowly, he began to sense them—not with his eyes, but with something deeper. It was faint, like catching a song just out of earshot, but it was there.

He exhaled, letting the sensation wash over him. The threads felt… alive, in a way. Not sentient, exactly, but reactive. Like they were waiting for him to notice them. As he focused, he felt a tiny spark of warmth in his chest, the faintest flicker of mana returning to his body.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Okay,” he whispered. “That’s something.”

Before he could explore the feeling further, a sharp tone cut through the air, accompanied by a flickering red thread that darted across his vision.

“Priority notification: Sector Disruption detected.”

Kyle’s eyes snapped open. The System’s voice wasn’t calm this time—it was clipped, almost urgent.

“What? Now? I just—what disruption?” he asked aloud, his voice tinged with panic.

The red thread shot toward the far wall of the apartment, then disappeared. A glowing overlay appeared in his vision, a faint map of his building with a single point marked two floors below him.

“Localized mana anomaly identified. Probability of Aberration formation: 78%. Investigation required. Initiating temporary regeneration boost for User readiness.”

Kyle felt a sudden rush of energy flood through his body, jolting him upright. The exhaustion faded slightly, replaced by a faint hum in his chest. He clenched his fists, feeling the mana stirring again, though it was weaker than before.

“Wait, wait, hold on!” Kyle said, his voice rising. “I don’t even know what I’m doing! You expect me to just… run down there and fight another one of those things?”

“Affirmative. User is primary agent for Sector stabilization. Failure to act will result in elevated risk to baseline reality.”

Kyle swore under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. He wasn’t ready for this. He barely understood how to use his powers, let alone deal with another Aberration. But the System wasn’t giving him a choice.

As he stood, his heart pounding, a loud knock at the door startled him. He turned just in time to see the handle jiggle and Trevor’s voice on the other side.

“Kyle! Dude, open up! You’re not gonna believe this!”

Kyle groaned, yanking the door open just as Trevor’s hand was poised for another knock. “What, Trevor? I’m kind of busy.”

Trevor’s eyes were wide, his phone clutched in one hand. “Busy? Bro, you have to see this! There’s some serious weirdness happening in the building.”

Kyle blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Trevor shoved the phone in his face, showing a grainy video of the hallway two floors down. The image was shaky, but Kyle could clearly make out a faint, pulsing glow emanating from beneath one of the doors. The glow flickered like firelight, but it was too erratic, too unnatural. A low hum crackled faintly through the audio.

“Some chick on 2B’s group chat posted this like ten minutes ago,” Trevor said, his voice buzzing with excitement. “Said her neighbor’s apartment is glowing, and she heard these weird noises coming from inside. Looks like some kind of energy field or something! You think it’s aliens? Or maybe a government experiment gone wrong?”

Kyle stared at the screen, his stomach sinking. The glowing door matched the location on the System’s map exactly. This wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Trevor,” he said slowly, “you should probably stay in your apartment tonight.”

Trevor blinked. “What? No way, man! This is big! I’m gonna head down there and see what’s going on.”

Kyle grabbed Trevor by the shoulder, stopping him before he could turn away. “Seriously, don’t. Whatever’s going on down there, it’s not safe.”

Trevor frowned. “Not safe? You know something, don’t you? What’s really going on, Kyle?”

Kyle hesitated. His mind raced for an excuse, but the System interrupted with its usual bluntness.

“Time-sensitive mission. Aberration formation imminent. Immediate action required.”

Kyle sighed. “I… don’t have time to explain. Just trust me, okay? Stay here.”

Trevor’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting weird, man. Like, even weirder than usual.”

Kyle stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll explain later. Just stay put.”

Before Trevor could protest, Kyle turned and headed for the stairs, the glowing threads in his vision growing brighter as he descended. His heart pounded with every step, a mix of fear and determination driving him forward. He didn’t know what he was walking into, but one thing was clear: the System wasn’t going to let him back out.