Heartbeat.exe: Hidden Script

Chapter 3: The First Stitch

The rhythmic thud of Ketsana’s boots against the pavement sounded like a metronome, precise and unrelenting. He wasn't choosing his path; his knees were locking and unlocking with mechanical efficiency, guiding him away from the black van and into a narrow, trash-strewn alley behind a row of concrete shops.

Suddenly, his legs came to a dead stop. The momentum almost made him bite his tongue, but his jaw was clamped shut by the same invisible force.

"Okay, look who actually showed up," a voice echoed from the shadows of the alley.

Ketsana’s eyes darted to the side. Leaning against a stack of wooden crates was Bounthavy. He wasn't wearing his headset today. Instead, he had on a grease-stained tank top and a look of cold impatience that Ketsana had never heard through the Discord channel.

"Hey, Bounthavy. Funny seeing you here," Ketsana said. He realized with a surge of relief that his voice sounded normal. The Code had dropped the medieval poetic filter.

"Is it?" Bounthavy asked, pushing off the crates. "I’ve been calling you all morning. You didn't pick up."

"My phone is... having issues. I’ve been having a lot of issues," Ketsana replied, trying to step back. His boots felt like they were bolted to the asphalt.

"You had enough time to play World-Zero last night," Bounthavy said, walking closer. "You had enough time to bag ten thousand dollars' worth of rare drops from that Archon boss. I saw the market value on those crystals you got."

"Listen, man, I can't even access my inventory right now. The game is literally stuck in my head. I’m not joking."

Bounthavy snorted, his eyes narrowing. "You think I’m stupid? You’ve owed me for that GPU for months, and now you’re sitting on a virtual gold mine. I want my cut today."

"I don't have the cash on me, Bounthavy! And I can't sell the items yet! My body is doing this weird thing where it won't let me touch my own settings!"

"You're always full of excuses," Bounthavy muttered, cracking his knuckles. "I thought we were boys, but you’re just another twitchy gamer trying to ghost a tab. It’s six hundred bucks, Ketsana. Pay up or give me the login credentials to your account."

"I can't give you my login! If you log in while I'm... like this, who knows what happens to my brain?"

"I don't give a damn about your brain! I give a damn about my six hundred!" Bounthavy barked, stepping into Ketsana’s personal space.

"Please, just back off," Ketsana pleaded. Internally, he felt a frantic vibration starting at the base of his skull.

[ SYSTEM: Combat Protocol: ENGAGED. ]

"Make me back off," Bounthavy growled. He wound up a wide, heavy right hook aimed directly at Ketsana’s jaw.

In Ketsana’s mind, everything slowed to a crawl. He saw the sweat fly off Bounthavy’s fist. He saw the path of the punch as a series of translucent red arrows. Without a single thought, Ketsana’s left hand shot up. It didn't feel like his hand; it felt like a hydraulic piston. His palm met Bounthavy’s wrist with a sickening crack-slap sound, redirecting the punch into the brick wall.

"What the hell?" Bounthavy gasped, clutching his bruised hand. "Where did you learn to move like that?"

"I didn't! My hand just did it!" Ketsana yelled, though his posture was perfectly balanced, feet spaced shoulder-width apart in a professional defensive stance.

"You’re dead!" Bounthavy screamed, lunging forward with a desperate shoulder tackle.

Ketsana’s body didn't flinch. He performed a micro-step to the left—exactly three inches—allowing Bounthavy to stumble past him. As Bounthavy tried to turn, Ketsana’s right foot snapped out in a low, sharp kick against Bounthavy’s shin.

"Ow! Damn it, stop it!" Bounthavy scrambled back, his face turning red with rage.

"I am trying to stop! I’m literally screaming 'stop' in my head!" Ketsana said, his voice trembling even as his eyes remained unnervingly calm and focused.

"You’re using some kind of wearable tech, aren't you?" Bounthavy huffed, leaning over his knees. "Some kind of reflex booster you bought with the gold money?"

"It's not a booster! It’s a virus! Or a ghost! Look at my eyes, Bounthavy!"

"I don't care what’s in your eyes! I’m getting that money!"

Bounthavy grabbed a discarded metal pipe from the trash heap. He swung it with a frantic, downward arc. Ketsana didn't dodge this time. His arm came up, bone meeting metal.

There was a heavy, dull thud. Ketsana watched his own forearm take the full force of the iron pipe.

"Ketsana! Your arm! Are you crazy?" Bounthavy looked horrified.

Ketsana stared at his limb. The skin was already turning a deep, angry purple. A knot was forming instantly. He could see the fibers of his hoodie torn where the metal had connected.

"I... I don't feel it," Ketsana whispered.

"What do you mean you don't feel it? I just hit you with a lead pipe, man! I heard your bone hit!"

"There’s no pain," Ketsana said, looking up at Bounthavy with an expression of pure terror. "I should be screaming on the ground right now, but I feel... nothing. It’s like I’m watching a video of someone else getting hit."

"You’re really starting to freak me out, bro," Bounthavy said, lowering the pipe. "Seriously. Your arm is swelling up like a balloon and you’re just standing there talking to me."

"It's the system," Ketsana said, his breath hitching. "It’s managing the inputs. It’s filtering the pain signals so the user doesn't experience 'operator failure.'"

"Operator what? Who are you talking to?"

"The thing in my head! Bounthavy, hit me again. Anywhere else."

"No way! I’m not a psycho!"

"Just do it! Punch me in the stomach! I need to know if it's all over!"

Bounthavy hesitated, then threw a quick jab into Ketsana’s midsection. Ketsana’s body took the hit without even doubling over. His stomach muscles had tightened into a wall of iron milliseconds before impact.

"Anything?" Bounthavy asked, pulling his hand back.

"Nothing. Just a slight pressure. Like someone pressed a finger against me," Ketsana said.

"This is insane," Bounthavy whispered, backing toward the entrance of the alley. "I’m out. Keep your money. Keep your weird voodoo. I don't want any part of this."

"Wait! Don't leave me here! I can't move my legs again!"

"Call a doctor, Ketsana! Or a computer repairman! I’m done!" Bounthavy turned and sprinted out of the alley, his footsteps fading rapidly into the city noise.

Ketsana stood alone amongst the trash. He looked down at his injured arm again. It looked grotesque, the swelling now noticeable even through his sleeve.

"Hey," Ketsana said to the empty air. "If you can hear me... you should probably fix my arm if we're supposed to be in this together."

[ SYSTEM: Structural integrity verified. Damage localized to non-essential tissue. ]

"It's not non-essential to me!" Ketsana shouted. "That’s my arm!"

A digital flicker appeared in the corner of his eye. It wasn't a text box this time. It was a thin, glowing green rectangle that looked exactly like the health bars from World-Zero.

Ketsana watched as the green bar, which had been full, suddenly dipped. A small segment turned yellow, then orange.

[ STATUS: 82/100 HP ]

"Oh, great. I have a literal life-bar now," Ketsana muttered.

But as he watched, the green portion started to flash. A small red downward-facing arrow appeared next to the numbers. The numbers didn't stay at eighty-two.

[ STATUS: 81/100 HP ]

[ STATUS: 80/100 HP ]

"Wait, why is it going down?" Ketsana asked, his heart hammering in his chest. "I’m not being hit anymore! The fight is over!"

He looked at his arm. There was no blood, only the massive bruise. But the bar kept ticking downward with a rhythmic precision.

[ STATUS: 79/100 HP ]

"System! Stop it! Why is my health dropping?"

[ SYSTEM: Internal hemorrhage detected. Sub-dermal leak confirmed. Initiating temporary overclock to maintain mobility. ]

"Overclock? What does that mean for a human being?"

Ketsana didn't get an answer. He felt a sudden, sharp surge of artificial energy course through his veins, like a thousand cups of coffee hitting his bloodstream at once. His pupils dilated until the world was hyper-sharp, every grain of dust in the alley visible.

His legs began to move again, faster this time. He was no longer just walking away from trouble; he was running. His pace was inhuman, his feet barely touching the ground as he cleared the alley and merged into the sidewalk traffic.

People were a blur of 'Level 1' and 'Level 3' indicators. He felt no fatigue, no shortness of breath, and most terrifyingly, still no pain from his shattered arm.

But the bar in his vision continued its steady, silent crawl toward the zero mark.

[ STATUS: 75/100 HP ]

"I need to get to a hospital," Ketsana thought frantically, his legs pushing him into a sprint that would have set Olympic records. "I’m dying, and I can't even feel it happening."