THE DEATH MIND SYSTEM

On The Run

Elliot crashed through the underbrush, branches snagging at his hoodie as he plunged deeper into the woods. The distant wail of sirens faded, swallowed by the rustle of leaves and the thud of his own heartbeat. His backpack bounced against his spine, the stolen Veil device a heavy weight inside it.

The system’s hum was quieter now, a low thrum in the back of his mind, but its presence was inescapable. "Level 3 achieved. Neural Pulse unlocked." The words looped in his thoughts, a reminder of the power he’d gained; and the cost. Voss’s lifeless body flashed in his memory, her eyes staring at nothing, her name, Elara Marie Voss, etched in glowing letters above her corpse.

He’d killed her to stay free, to silence her threats and the Veil’s pursuit. But the victory felt hollow. Bryce’s death had been a desperate choice, Voss’s a calculated one, and each had tightened the system’s grip on his mind. The rush of the upgrades: Name Sight, Neural Pulse; was intoxicating, but it came with a creeping dread. The system wasn’t just giving him power; it was reshaping him, pulling him toward something he didn’t understand.

Elliot slowed to a walk, his breath ragged, the forest dense around him. The trees were thicker here, the light dimmer, casting long shadows that seemed to shift in his peripheral vision. Name Sight was still active, and every rustle in the bushes made him flinch, expecting to see glowing letters hovering above some unseen threat. But the woods were empty, at least for now. He needed a plan; a place to hide, a way to figure out what the Veil knew and how to get this thing out of his head. The observatory was too close to campus, his dorm a trap waiting to be sprung. He had to keep moving.

The system’s voice broke the silence, cold and precise. "Host relocation advised. Threat level: Elevated. Veil operatives likely converging on last known location. Recommendation: Utilize Neural Pulse to neutralize potential pursuers."

Elliot’s jaw clenched. “I’m not using it,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve already killed two people today. That’s enough.”

"Neural Pulse is a non-lethal protocol," the system responded. "Neural Pulse incapacitates targets without termination. It is optimal for host survival without escalating system integration."

He paused, leaning against a tree, his hands trembling. Non-lethal. The idea was a lifeline, a way to fight back without crossing that line again. But he didn’t trust the system; not its promises, not its motives. Every upgrade came with a catch, a step deeper into its control. Still, Neural Pulse could buy him time, a way to stop pursuers without more blood on his hands. If the Veil was coming, he’d need every advantage.

He reached into his backpack, pulling out the device he’d taken from Voss. It was heavier than it looked, its surface smooth and cold, etched with faint, intricate patterns that didn’t resemble any technology he recognized. No buttons, no screen; just a seamless cylinder that hummed faintly when he held it. Was this how the Veil tracked him? Could it lead him to answers about the system’s origins? He stuffed it back into his bag, resolving to examine it later, somewhere safe.

The forest thinned ahead, opening to a narrow dirt road that led toward the nearby town of Crestwood. It was a risk; town meant people, and people meant names. Name Sight would tag everyone he saw, each one a potential target for the system’s relentless hunger. But staying in the woods wasn’t an option either. He needed food, a place to rest, and a way to dig into the Veil without drawing attention.

As he stepped onto the road, the system hummed again, unprompted. "Name Sight active. Scanning for threats." His vision flickered, and across the road, a jogger appeared, their name glowing above their head: Thomas Lee Harper. The man didn’t glance his way, focused on his run, but the sight of the name made Elliot’s stomach twist. It was so easy now; too easy. Every person was a target, their names handed to him like bullets in a loaded gun.

He forced himself to look away, pulling his hoodie tighter around his face as he walked toward town. The road was quiet, but the system’s hum kept him on edge, its presence a constant reminder of what he’d done. Bryce. Voss. Two lives, gone in whispers. And yet, the system had delivered on its promises. Name Sight had given him Voss’s name, and Neural Pulse could keep him safe without killing. But the cost was climbing, and he wasn’t sure how much further he could go before the system owned him completely.

Crestwood’s outskirts came into view; a gas station, a diner, a few weathered houses. Elliot kept his head down, avoiding eye contact as he slipped into the diner, its neon sign flickering in the late afternoon gloom. The bell above the door jingled, and the handful of patrons barely glanced up from their coffee and burgers. Elliot slid into a booth in the corner, his back to the wall, his eyes scanning the room. Name Sight tagged everyone: Sandra Jean Miller, waitress. Robert Alan Hayes, the truck driver. Emily Rose Carter, a student. The names floated like ghosts, a constant temptation.

He ordered a coffee, his voice low, and pulled out his phone, hoping to find something, anything about the Veil. A quick search turned up nothing but conspiracy forums and vague references to urban legends about shadowy organizations. The device in his backpack was his best lead, but he didn’t dare examine it here, not with eyes everywhere. Instead, he opened a campus group chat, scanning for news about Voss or Bryce. The messages were a frenzy of speculation:

“They found Bryce Carter passed out in his dorm. Heart attack, same as Tanner. What’s going on?”

“Cops are all over campus now. Some woman’s body was found in the woods. No ID yet.”

Elliot’s hands went cold. Voss had been found already, and Bryce’s death was public. The Veil would know it was him. They’d come faster now, harder. He needed to move, but where?

The system’s voice cut through his panic, calm and insistent: "Host exposure risk: Critical. Recommendation: Utilize Neural Pulse to neutralize local threats. Relocate to secondary location for analysis of acquired device."

Elliot’s eyes darted to the diner’s patrons. Neural Pulse could knock them out, give him time to slip away if the Veil showed up. But using it meant leaning into the system, trusting its power even as it pushed him toward more. He thought of Bryce again, the ease with which he’d chosen him; his anger, his threats, his role in the alley. Killing Bryce had been a means to an end, a way to unlock Name Sight and stop Voss. But it hadn’t stopped anything. It had only made things worse.

His gaze drifted to the waitress, Sandra, her name glowing above her as she refilled a coffee pot. Could he use Neural Pulse on her? On everyone here, just to test it? The thought made him sick, but the system’s hum was relentless, nudging him toward action. He shook his head, forcing the idea away. He wasn’t a monster. Not yet.

The bell jingled again, and Elliot’s heart stopped as a man entered. He was tall, broad-shouldered, in a dark coat similar to Voss’s. His name glowed above his head: Nathaniel James Cole. The man’s eyes swept the diner, lingering on Elliot for a fraction too long before he took a seat at the counter. Elliot’s pulse raced. Was this the Veil? Another operative, already tracking him?

The system's voice came immediately. "Threat detected. Name acquired: Nathaniel James Cole. Protocols available: Terminate, or use Neural Pulse. Recommendation: Neutralize immediately."

Elliot’s hands clenched under the table. He could end it now—whisper Nathaniel’s name and watch him drop. Or he could use Neural Pulse, knock him out, and run. But every choice felt like a step deeper into the system’s trap. He’d killed Voss to avoid problems, but problems kept coming. And as the man’s gaze flicked toward him again, Elliot realized he might not have the luxury of hesitation much longer.

Elliot’s fingers tightened around the coffee mug, the ceramic warm against his clammy palms. The diner’s hum of conversation felt distant, drowned out by the system’s insistent pulse in his mind. The glowing letters above the man’s head burned into his vision, a stark reminder of the power he wielded. Nathaniel James Cole sat at the counter, his broad shoulders hunched over a menu, but his eyes flicked toward Elliot again, sharp and deliberate. This wasn’t a coincidence. The Veil had found him.

Elliot’s heart pounded, his thoughts a chaotic swirl. He’d killed Voss to escape, to keep the system’s override at bay, but it had only bought him hours. Now another operative was here, and the system was already pushing him to act. Termination was the easy choice; one whisper, and Nathaniel would be gone, just like Tanner, Bryce, and Voss. But the body count was piling up, each death chipping away at something inside him. Neural Pulse, though… it was non-lethal. A way to stop Nathaniel without killing, without feeding the system’s hunger for more.

He leaned back in the booth, trying to steady his breathing, his eyes locked on Nathaniel. The man hadn’t moved, but his posture was too alert, too controlled. He wasn’t just a customer grabbing a burger. The system’s hum grew louder, a vibration that made Elliot’s teeth ache. "Override probability: 5%. Neutralize to maintain host autonomy."

Elliot’s gaze darted around the diner. The waitress was wiping down the counter, oblivious. The truck driver was scrolling on his phone, and the student, Emily, was hunched over a textbook. Their names floated above them, glowing tags that marked them as potential targets. He could use Neural Pulse on all of them, knock out the entire diner, and slip away before Nathaniel could react. But what if it didn’t work? What if the Veil’s tech could counter it? And what if using the system’s power, even non-lethally, pulled him deeper under its control?

Nathaniel turned slightly, his eyes meeting Elliot’s for a split second before returning to the menu. That glance was enough. He knew. Elliot’s hand slipped under the table, gripping the edge of his backpack, where Voss’s device was stashed. If he could figure out what it was, maybe he could use it against Nathaniel, against the Veil. But there was no time to study it now—not with an operative sitting ten feet away.

The system’s voice broke through again, cold and urgent. "Threat proximity: 3 meters. Neural Pulse optimal for non-lethal neutralization. Activation method: Focus on target, visualize pulse emission. Cooldown: 60 seconds."

Elliot’s breath hitched. Visualize. That was it? No whisper, no name; just a thought, like aiming a mental dart. He stared at Nathaniel, the glowing letters of his name hovering like a target. His mind flashed back to Bryce, the ease with which he’d chosen him, the way the system had dangled Name Sight as a reward. Killing Bryce had been a means to an end, a way to stop Voss. Now, with Voss gone, Nathaniel was the new threat, and Neural Pulse was the tool to stop him. But the memory of Voss’s body, crumpled in the woods, made his stomach lurch. He didn’t want to kill again—not if he could avoid it.

“Okay,” he whispered, barely moving his lips. “Let’s try it.”

He focused on Nathaniel, picturing a ripple of energy, like a shockwave radiating from his mind. The system’s hum surged, a tingling sensation spreading through his skull, down his spine, and into his fingertips. His vision sharpened, the diner’s details coming into vivid focus. Then, with a mental push, he unleashed it.

A faint pulse, invisible but palpable, rippled outward. Nathaniel stiffened, his menu slipping from his hands as he slumped forward, his head hitting the counter with a dull thud. The waitress gasped, rushing over, and the other patrons turned, their voices rising in confusion. Sandra hovered above the waitress as she shook Nathaniel’s shoulder, calling for help. But Elliot was already moving, sliding out of the booth and grabbing his backpack, his heart racing. It had worked. Neural Pulse had knocked Nathaniel out, and no one was dead.

"Neural Pulse successful," the system said. "Target incapacitated. Cooldown initiated: 60 seconds. Host relocation advised."

Elliot kept his head down, slipping toward the door as the diner descended into chaos. The bell jingled as he stepped outside, the cold air hitting his face like a slap. He didn’t look back as he broke into a jog down the street, the system’s hum a steady rhythm in his mind. For the first time since the alley, he felt a flicker of hope. Neural Pulse was a game-changer; a way to fight without killing, to stay in control without feeding the system’s bloodlust.

He ducked into an alley behind the diner, his breath fogging in the evening chill. The town of Crestwood was small, a cluster of shops and houses that felt suffocatingly exposed under Name Sight’s relentless tagging. Every passerby was a name, a potential target. He needed a place to hide, to think, to figure out what Voss’s device was and what the Veil was planning. A motel on the edge of town seemed like his best bet; cash only, no questions asked.

As he moved through the alley, his thoughts drifted back to Nathaniel. Nathaniel incapacitated, he wondered how many more “necessary” choices the system would push him toward. The glowing names around him felt like a cage, each one a temptation to use the system’s power again.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, glancing at the screen. Another campus alert: "Increased police presence on campus due to recent incidents. Students advised to avoid wooded areas." The Veil was covering its tracks, or maybe the police were already working with them. Either way, Crestwood wasn’t safe anymore.

Elliot’s grip tightened on his backpack, the weight of Voss’s device a reminder of the stakes. He had to keep moving, stay ahead of the Veil, and find a way to break free of the system before it consumed him. But as he slipped out of the alley, the system’s voice whispered, unprompted, a chilling promise.

"Level 4 protocol available with two additional terminations. Enhanced capabilities await. Host potential: Exponential."

Elliot’s steps faltered, his blood running cold. The system was offering him more abilities. And deep down, a part of him; the part that had felt the rush of Neural Pulse, the clarity of Name Sight, wondered how long he could resist its call.