2026-01-25 18:08:50Arthur was a big man, but he looked small now. He was curled up on his side. A ceramic mug lay broken near his hand. Coffee, black, cold, was spilled across the linoleum tiles like an ink stain.
“Dad!”
Evan rushed forward. He dropped to his knees. The hard floor hurt his knees, but he didn't feel it. He grabbed his father’s shoulder.
“Dad! Wake up!”
Arthur rolled onto his back. His eyes were open, but they were not looking at Evan. They were looking at the ceiling, unseeing. They were milky and gray. His breathing was shallow. It sounded like a rattle in a dry box. Hhhhrrr... hhhhrrr...
“No, no, no,” Evan stammered.
He grabbed his father’s wrist. He looked at Arthur’s Life-Clock.
14 Years, 2 Months, 1 Day.
“You have time,” Evan said, panic rising in his chest. “You have plenty of time. Why are you falling?”
In this world, people usually died when their clock hit zero. The heart stopped. The lights went out. But Arthur had fourteen years. This was something else.
Evan tapped his own wrist-comp. “Emergency! Medical! Sector 4, Unit 404!”
A robotic voice answered instantly. “Service requires an upfront payment of one month. Do you accept?”
“Yes! Take it!” Evan screamed. “Just get here!”
“Transaction complete. Unit dispatched. ETA: Four minutes.”
Four minutes. It felt like four years.
Evan pulled his father’s head onto his lap. He brushed the gray hair away from Arthur’s forehead. Arthur’s skin was burning hot, but he was shivering.
“Evan...” Arthur whispered. It was barely a sound.
“I’m here, Dad. I’m here.”
“The numbers...” Arthur mumbled. His eyes darted back and forth. “They’re falling... all the numbers...”
“Shh. Don’t talk. The medic is coming.”
Evan rocked back and forth. He held his father tight. He looked around the small, shabby apartment. This was all they had. They didn't gamble. They lived safe. They lived quiet. This wasn't supposed to happen to them. This happened to people like Marco, or the people who bet their organs in the back alleys. Not Arthur. Arthur was a history teacher before the schools went digital. He was careful.
A loud knock shook the door. “Medical!”
Evan scrambled up and threw the door open.
A man in a white uniform walked in. He didn't look like a doctor. He looked like a mechanic. He carried a large black case. Behind him floated a small drone with a green scanning light.
The man didn't introduce himself. He looked at the floor. “That the patient?”
“Yes! He just collapsed,” Evan said.
The man knelt down. He snapped his fingers. The drone hovered over Arthur. A beam of green light swept up and down Arthur’s body. It hummed.
The man pulled a tablet from his case. He watched the data scroll by. He chewed gum loudly. Smack. Smack.
“Clock is active,” the man said, bored. “He’s got fourteen years. So it’s not a time-out.”
“I know that,” Evan snapped. “What’s wrong with him?”
The man tapped the screen. He frowned. He stopped chewing his gum.
“Oh,” the man said. “That’s nasty.”
“What?” Evan demanded. He knelt beside the man. “What is it?”
“Neural Degradation. Type 4,” the man said. He stood up and dusted off his knees. “It’s a glitch in the interface between his brain and the Life-Clock.”
Evan felt the blood drain from his face. He had heard of this. It was rare. It happened when the biological brain rejected the digital time-keeping implant.
“Is... is it fatal?” Evan asked. His voice trembled.
“Without treatment? Yeah,” the man said. “Fast, too. The brain fries itself trying to process the time data. He’s stuck in a loop. He’ll be a vegetable by tomorrow morning. Dead by tomorrow night.”
The room spun. Evan put a hand on the counter to steady himself. Dead by tomorrow.
“But you can fix it?” Evan asked. “You have to fix it.”
The man sighed. He looked around the apartment. He saw the peeling paint. He saw Evan’s wet delivery uniform.
“Look, kid,” the man said, his voice softer now, but still cold. “I can’t fix it. I’m just a paramedic. This requires surgery. Neuro-recalibration. It’s complex stuff. You need a specialist. A Risk-Clinic.”
“Where?” Evan asked. “Take him there. Now.”
“I can take him,” the man said. “But you need to understand the cost. The Risk-Clinics aren’t state-funded. They are private. They don’t take promises.”
“I have time,” Evan said quickly. He held up his wrist. “I have twenty-two years. Take it. Take whatever you need.”
The man looked at Evan’s wrist. Then he looked back at his tablet. He typed in a code.
“Neural recalibration... emergency status... overnight care...” The man muttered.
He turned the tablet around so Evan could see the screen.
A number blinked in red.
COST: 50 Thousand Credits (50 YEARS.)
Evan stared at the number. The silence in the room was deafening.
Fifty years.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 414
"You..." Jax gasped. His human eye filled with tears of pure, absolute despair. "You knew. You knew the Queen was coming.""I knew," Evan nodded slowly. Jax looked down at his own side of the table. His massive mountain of black chips was completely gone. There was nothing left. Just the green velvet, and the burning cigar hole. He had bet his life. He had bet his empire. He had bet his organic organs. He had zero balance. "Zero," Jax whispered. The realization hit him like a physical blow. He was bankrupt. He was empty. "Elimination confirmed," the Dealer announced loudly. From the dark shadows behind Jax, the five faceless guards stepped forward. They did not hesitate. The rules of the Obsidian Tournament were sacred. The House always collected its debts. The guards raised their long spears. The bright blue plasma energy hummed loudly. They aimed the sharp, burning tips directly at Jax’s back. Jax did not try to run. He did not scream. He did not beg for his life like the y
Chapter 413
The laugh died instantly in Jax’s metallic throat. It sounded like an engine sputtering and choking on bad oil.The thick, expensive brown cigar slipped from between Jax’s synthetic silver teeth. Jax did not even try to catch it. The cigar fell through the air. It hit the green velvet table with a soft thud. The burning red cherry at the tip of the cigar touched the soft cloth. A thin wisp of dark gray smoke rose into the air. The fire burned a small, black, ugly hole directly into the beautiful green velvet. Jax did not notice the burning table. He did not notice the screaming crowd. Jax stared at the five cards on the board. He stared at the two cards in front of Evan. Eight. Nine. Ten. Jack. Queen. All Spades. Jax’s single human eye was bulging out of its socket. The pale, greasy skin around his eye was twitching violently. On the other side of his face, his glowing red cybernetic eye was spinning completely out of control. The tiny mechanical lens zoomed in on the cards.
Chapter 412
The rich brokers in the balconies looked at the Eight and the Nine. They looked at Jax’s Kings. They thought Evan had lost. "He has nothing!" a man in the crowd yelled. "He has Eight-high!"But the Dealer in the black tuxedo was a professional. He was a machine trained to read cards instantly. The Dealer looked at Evan’s cards. He looked at the five community cards on the board. The Dealer’s eyes widened. For the very first time in his entire career, the emotionless Dealer actually gasped. His mouth fell slightly open. The Dealer looked at the board: King of Spades, Jack of Spades, Ten of Spades, Queen of Spades. The Dealer looked at Evan’s hand: Nine of Spades, Eight of Spades. Eight. Nine. Ten. Jack. Queen. All Spades. The shockwave hit the room. It did not hit slowly. It hit instantly, like a physical explosion of pure disbelief. "Straight Flush," the Dealer whispered. His voice actually shook. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, his voice echoing through the massive,
Chapter 411
Jax picked up the cigar with his human hand. He placed it between his synthetic silver teeth. He bit down on it happily. The waiter quickly pulled out a heavy golden lighter. He flicked the lighter open. A bright orange flame popped up. The waiter held the flame to the end of the cigar. Jax puffed slowly. The end of the cigar glowed a bright, angry red. Jax inhaled deeply, filling his remaining human lungs with the rich smoke. He blew a massive, thick cloud of gray smoke straight across the green velvet table. The smoke curled and twisted in the warm amber light, floating directly into Evan’s face. Jax was utterly, completely convinced that Evan’s luck had finally run out. "Look at you, boy," Jax sneered. He pointed his smoking cigar at Evan. "Look at your dirty clothes. Look at your bloody nose. You really thought you could come into my city and beat me? You thought a garbage draw could beat a Full House?"Behind Evan’s chair, Marco was weeping. The tough, old grifter had tears
Chapter 410
Evan had closed his eyes during the small, boring hands. He had listened to the sound of the paper cards spinning inside the black metal box. He had memorized the sound. He had realized that the shuffling machine was not perfectly calibrated. It had a tiny, microscopic flaw. The small rubber wheel inside the machine, the wheel that pushed the cards from the left side to the right side, was slightly worn down. It was old. Because the rubber wheel was worn down, it slipped exactly once every fifty-two shuffles. It was a tiny error. A normal human would never notice it. But Evan’s mind was trained to see patterns. Because the left rubber wheel slipped, the shuffling machine did not create a perfectly random deck. It created a repeating mathematical sequence. It grouped certain suits together. It pushed the high Spade cards to a very specific spot in the deck. Evan had spent the last three hours mapping that invisible wave in his head. He had watched the Dealer’s white-gloved hands p
Chapter 409
The small, thick piece of white paper spun slowly through the air. It was just a playing card. It was made of paper and ink. It weighed almost nothing. But in that dark, underground VIP poker room, that single piece of paper carried the weight of the entire world. It carried billions of years of human life. It carried the fate of the poor people starving in the slums. It carried the lives of Evan Kennedy and his best friends. The tall Dealer in the black tuxedo had just slid the card off the top of the deck. His pure white silk gloves looked like ghosts moving in the dim, amber light of the crystal chandelier. He flipped the card into the air. For Evan Kennedy, time stopped. He did not use his magical Chronos Perception. The heavy, invisible static from the Quantum Scramblers in the ceiling still blocked his powers. If he used his magic, his brain would melt. He was completely cut off from the digital code of the universe. But Evan did not need magic anymore. He had his human mind
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