The Coming

: System Activated

The world spun. My vision blurred as I stumbled against the cold, damp alley wall, gasping for breath. Blood dripped from the cut above my eye, mixing with the rain pooling beneath me. Every muscle ached, and every nerve felt like it was on fire. The debt collectors hadn't gone easy on me.

Not that I expected them to.

"You had your chance, Cross," one of them had sneered before driving his boot into my ribs. Another punch. Another kick. And now, here I was—left to rot in the shadows of the same city I once fought to protect. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I tried to move. I failed.

A broken ex-soldier, drowning in debt, haunted by war, and discarded by the country I once bled for.

Poetic. In the sickest way possible.

My pulse slowed. The cold crept deeper into my bones.

So this is how it ends.

A shaky breath escaped my lips as my body surrendered. My eyes fluttered shut. The distant hum of the city faded into nothingness.

And then—

A soft ding echoed in the darkness.

> [System Activated]

[You have 24 hours to accept or be erased.]

My breath caught. My eyes snapped open. The pain was still there, but something was… different. Like a switch had been flipped in my brain, an unfamiliar energy thrumming beneath my skin.

A translucent screen hovered before me, its golden letters pulsing like a heartbeat.

What the hell?

> [Accept? Y/N]

A hollow laugh escaped me. Was this death? A glitch in my dying brain? My fingers twitched, barely responsive. But what choice did I have?

I clenched my jaw. If this was insanity, I was already lost. And if it was something else…

I pressed ‘Y.’

White-hot energy exploded through my veins. My back arched, teeth clenching as every nerve caught fire. I gasped, the pain sharp, electric—then suddenly, it was gone.

Silence.

My wounds were sealed. The pain vanished. My senses sharpened, the world around me snapping into a crisp clarity I had never experienced before. The scent of wet pavement. The distant rumble of car engines. The flickering streetlamp above me, every tiny crack in the glass now visible.

I bolted upright, pressing a hand to my side where the knife had sliced me open. Nothing. No wound. No blood.

"Holy shit."

> [System Integration Complete.]

[Welcome, Tony Cross.]

A shiver ran down my spine. Adrenaline surged, stirring something primal inside me—something I thought I'd lost a long time ago. I pushed myself up. My body responded like a well-oiled machine. Strong. Efficient. Alive.

But what the hell had I just signed up for?

A new prompt flashed in front of me.

> [Mission: Eliminate Your Pursuers.]

[Time Limit: 10 Minutes.]

I stilled. Footsteps echoed down the alley. The debt collectors—coming back to finish the job.

I flexed my fingers. The broken man I was ten minutes ago no longer existed. Something new had taken his place. Something hungry.

And I welcomed it.

The first thug rounded the corner. "Son of a—"

I moved before he could finish. My fist slammed into his gut, the impact jolting up my arm. He wheezed, stumbling back. I didn’t give him a chance to recover—pivot, elbow to the jaw. He crumpled to the ground.

Another one lunged at me, a knife glinting under the neon glow. Time slowed. I saw the way his muscles tensed, his grip tightening around the handle.

Too predictable.

I sidestepped, caught his wrist, twisted—

A sickening snap.

He screamed, the blade clattering to the pavement. One swift kick to the chest sent him flying.

The last one hesitated. "What the fuck?" His gaze flickered between his fallen men and me. I saw it—the creeping fear.

I smirked. "Wanna try your luck?"

He turned and ran.

> [Mission Complete.]

[+10 Strength, +5 Agility.]

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. Every movement felt effortless like my body had been reforged into something sharper, deadlier.

But this was just the beginning.

I needed answers.

And I knew exactly where to start.

---

The dive bar on 9th Street smelled like whiskey and regret. Perfect. I walked in, drawing a few lazy glances before the regulars turned back to their drinks.

At the far end of the bar, a man nursed a glass of bourbon. His tailored suit stuck out in this rundown hole like a diamond in the dirt.

Vincent DeLuca. Loan shark. Manipulator. The reason I was bleeding out in that alley a few hours ago.

He looked up, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Well, well. Tougher than I gave you credit for. Figured my guys left you for dead."

"They tried."

I slid into the seat across from him. The air between us thickened, tension crackling like static.

DeLuca studied me and took a slow sip of his drink. "Something's different about you."

I leaned forward. "What do you know about the system?"

His glass froze mid-air. Just for a second. But I caught it.

"That," he said carefully, setting his drink down, "is a dangerous question."

"And I like dangerous answers."

A slow grin spread across his face. "Then you’re in for a hell of a ride."

> [New Mission Unlocked.]

[Survive the Night.]

I smirked.

Let them come.

I was just getting started.

---