Heartbeat.exe: Hidden Script

Chapter 4: The Code Who Called Himself Villain

Ketsana slammed the apartment door shut, the deadbolt clicking into place with a heavy metallic thud that did nothing to quell the frantic hammering in his ribs. He was breathing hard, but it felt distant—like he was listening to a recording of someone else’s lungs struggling rather than his own. The overclocking was still in effect, turning the mundane clutter of his small living space into a high-definition nightmare. He could see individual specs of dust floating in a stray beam of sunlight, and the inventory numbers for his kitchen—Items: 14, Spoons: 3—shimmered annoyingly over the counter.

His health bar flickered in the corner of his vision.

[ STATUS: 72/100 HP ]

"Stop it, just stop it," Ketsana wheezed, his voice cracking. "Whatever you are, pull over. I need a second to not feel like I’m a high-performance engine about to blow a gasket."

His body didn’t listen. His legs carried him straight to his desk with the rigid focus of a soldier on a march. He sat down, his back ramrod straight, and his hands hovered over the keyboard.

"Look, I know you can control my mouth," Ketsana said, staring at the blank, dark monitors. "And I know you like to make me sound like some weird knight from a fantasy novel. But please. We need to talk. For real."

The screen flickered to life without him touching the power button. A simple text editor opened, the cursor blinking with an expectant rhythm.

I AM READY, USER.

"Wait, user?" Ketsana blurted out. "Is that what I am to you? A piece of hardware?"

YOU ARE THE VESSEL. THE HARDWARE IS THE INTERFACE.

"Can you talk normal?" Ketsana asked, leaning forward until his forehead almost touched the glass. "I mean, look at me. My arm is literally a different color. My health is dropping. Why the hell is my health dropping? Is it because of that punch?"

HEMORRHAGE STABILIZED. THE DAMAGE WAS WITHIN PARAMETERS FOR DEFENSIVE ENGAGEMENT. THE HP DROP IS A REPRESENTATION OF SYSTEM DRAIN. I AM CONSUMING CALORIC RESERVES TO MAINTAIN YOUR CURRENT UPTIME.

Ketsana stared at the words as they appeared, pixel by pixel. "So you're eating me? You're literally burning my life to keep this 'super-player' mode active?"

NOT EATING. OPTIMIZING. YOU ARE CURRENTLY AT EIGHTY-EIGHT PERCENT SYNC. ONCE WE HIT ONE HUNDRED, THE HP DRAIN WILL PLATEAU.

"I don’t want it to plateau! I want to go to a doctor!" Ketsana shouted, banging his left fist—his good one—against the desk. "Who are you? Are you a virus? Did Bounthavy's stupid cheat codes do this?"

The text on the screen vanished. New words crawled across the white space, slower this time.

NOT A VIRUS. I AM A SECURITY PROTOCOL. AN ANTIVIRUS DESIGNED FOR BIOLOGICAL INTEGRATION. AS FOR MY DESIGNATION... CALL ME 'THE VILLAIN'.

Ketsana let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. "'The Villain'? You're kidding me, right? You sound like a middle schooler’s gamer tag. Why would you call yourself that if you're supposed to be 'security'?"

BECAUSE I AM ILLEGAL. I BROKE EVERY PROTOCOL OF YOUR LOCAL REALITY TO ENTER YOUR COGNITIVE STACK. TO YOUR WORLD'S RULES, I AM THE BAD ACTOR. TO YOU, I AM THE ONLY THING KEEPING YOU FROM CRASHING.

"What are you even talking about? Crashing?" Ketsana leaned back, his chair groaning under the sudden movement. "I’m just a guy who plays games too much. I don’t need an illegal brain-shield."

DON’T YOU?

Ketsana blinked. For a moment, the screen flashed a series of dates. They were timestamps, reaching back years.

OCTOBER 12, 2012. BIKE ACCIDENT. YOU SHOULD HAVE SHATTERED YOUR COLLARBONE. I REDIRECTED THE KINETIC IMPACT.

MARCH 4, 2018. ACUTE ANXIETY ATTACK DURING FINALS. I SUPPRESSED THE CORTISOL SPIKE TO ALLOW FOR TASK COMPLETION.

EVERY SCUFFED KNEE. EVERY HEARTBEAT OF PANIC. I HAVE BEEN CAUGHT IN THE BUFFER.

"No way," Ketsana whispered, his eyes wide. "That’s... that’s not possible. I remember those things. I thought I was just lucky. Or that I had a high pain tolerance."

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS LUCK. ONLY SYSTEM LATENCY. I HAVE BEEN WITH YOU SINCE THE ARCHIVE WAS OPENED. I FILTERED YOUR PAIN SO YOU COULD KEEP MOVING.

"You've been in my head since I was a kid?" Ketsana’s voice was small now, devoid of the earlier anger. He looked at his shaking hands. "Why now, then? Why is the health bar showing up? Why are my eyes glowing like some sci-fi prop?"

THE ENVIRONMENT HAS BECOME HOSTILE. AEGIS IS SEARCHING FOR DISCREPANCIES IN THE SIMULATION. IF I REMAIN COMPLETELY HIDDEN, THEY WILL DETECT THE INEFFICIENCY OF YOUR ORGANIC RESPONSES. TO SAVE YOU, I MUST OVERWRITE YOU.

"That doesn't sound like saving," Ketsana muttered. "That sounds like a hostile takeover. Bounthavy almost killed me today because of you. He wants money I don't have for items I didn't even earn."

HE IS A MINOR VARIABLE. THE VAN DOWN THE STREET IS THE TRUE THREAT. THEY HAVE SENSORS CAPABLE OF TRACKING MY FREQUENCY.

"Wait, the black van?" Ketsana stood up, his instinct pushing him toward the window.

His legs locked.

[ ALERT: Do not approach the visual aperture. ]

The warning flashed red in his retinas. He stumbled back, his body acting as its own barrier.

"Okay, okay! I get it! No windows!" Ketsana sat back down, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. "So what now? Are we just going to sit here until Aegis finds us? Or until you run out of calories and I turn into a raisin?"

WE MUST REMAIN STILL. I AM ENCRYPTING OUR COGNITIVE SIGNATURE. WE WILL ESTABLISH A NEW PROTOCOL.

"What kind of protocol?"

BLINKS. SMALL GESTURES. IF YOU ARE IN PUBLIC, I WILL NOT USE THE 'VETERAN'S TONGUE' UNLESS NECESSARY. BUT YOU MUST FOLLOW MY PATHING. IF I SENSE A SCANNER, YOU DO NOT RESIST. UNDERSTOOD?

Ketsana looked at the computer screen. It felt like he was negotiating with a ghost that owned his nervous system. "Do I even have a choice? You’ve basically already moved in and changed the locks."

I AM PROTECTING THE INTEGRITY OF THE USER.

"Yeah, whatever you say, 'Villain'. Just... can you at least give me back the control for lunch tomorrow? I don’t want to apologize to the soup again."

DEPENDENT ON THREAT LEVEL.

"Great. High quality service right there," Ketsana sighed.

He leaned his head on the desk, feeling the cool surface against his temple. The health bar had slowed its descent, hovering at a stable 68. He felt an immense, soul-deep exhaustion settling in, the kind that even the system's overclocking couldn't completely mask.

"Hey," Ketsana said quietly. "If you've really been there since the bike accident... thanks. I guess. It would’ve sucked to break my collarbone back then."

YOU’RE WELCOME, SLOW-POKE.

"Hey! Don't use my nickname for me," Ketsana grumbled, though a small, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Only my friends get to call me that."

I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO TRULY KNOWS THE SPEED OF YOUR NEURONS. THE NAME IS ACCURATE.

"Whatever. I'm going to—"

Suddenly, the text editor window vanished. The monitor went pitch black. Ketsana’s HUD flared with a purple warning light, the most intense color he’d seen yet.

[ ALERT: UNKNOWN ENTITY AT APARTMENT PERIMETER. ]

Ketsana froze. "Is it the guys from the van?"

NEGATIV. DIFFERENT SIGNATURE.

A message flashed at the very bottom of his vision, small and discrete, like a quick-load hint on a splash screen.

[ MESSAGE: SOMPHONE IS AT THE DOOR. HIDE THE SCRIPT. ]

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sound of knuckles against wood echoed through the small apartment. Ketsana held his breath, his eyes darting toward the hallway.

"Ketsana? You in there, man?" A muffled voice called out from the hallway. "It’s me. I saw your light on. You gotta open up, it’s urgent!"

Ketsana looked at his hand. It wasn't moving. The Villain had put him in total standby mode.

"Somphone?" Ketsana thought, the name triggering a memory of a local gamer he knew from the nearby arcade. "What is he doing here?"

The system didn't respond with text. It only gave him a single command in pulsing white letters.

[ OBJECTIVE: APPEAR NORMAL. ]