The Formidable System: Alex Cole Secret Heir

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

 The first light of dawn crept into Ethan’s apartment, sliding past the broken blinds to paint thin gold lines across the floor. He sat on the edge of his bed, fully dressed from the night before, as though sleep had been a luxury he could no longer afford.

 The device lay on the nightstand, its black surface pulsing faintly like a heartbeat. Ethan’s eyes never left it.

 “It has to be a trick,” he muttered to himself. His voice cracked from exhaustion. “Some elaborate setup… maybe Jonathan’s running a con.”

 But who would spend so much effort on him? A man who owned nothing, who meant nothing?

 He dragged both hands down his face, groaning. His humiliation replayed yet again in his mind — Lily’s laughter, Daniel’s smug look, the guests whispering as though his misery were entertainment. His chest burned every time he remembered.

 He grabbed the device suddenly, holding it up as if daring it to prove him wrong. “If you’re real,” he said bitterly, “show me something. Do something.”

 The screen flickered.

 System Online. Monitoring Emotional Distress.

 Ethan’s breath caught. The words vanished as quickly as they appeared, leaving the screen black once more.

 He let out a hollow laugh. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating.”

 The knock at his door startled him. Sharp. Precise. Not the casual rhythm of a neighbor, but deliberate.

 Ethan froze. “Who… who is it?

 A calm voice answered. “Jonathan Hale. May I come in?”

 Ethan hesitated, then opened the door. Jonathan stepped inside, immaculate as ever, carrying a small leather briefcase. His sharp gaze swept the shabby apartment without a flicker of judgment.

 “You didn’t sleep,” Jonathan observed.

 Ethan shot him a glare. “How could I? You dump this madness on me and expect me to just… accept it?”

 Jonathan set the briefcase down, folding his hands neatly over it. “Madness or not, the System has already recognized you. Denying it won’t change what you are.”

 “What I am?” Ethan barked a laugh. “What I am is a fool. That’s what the whole city saw last night. That’s all they’ll ever see.”

 Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. “No, Ethan. That’s what they want you to believe. But people’s laughter is nothing more than fear disguised. They mock what they do not understand, and they crush what they fear might one day surpass them.”

 Ethan paced the room, his hands restless. “You talk like it’s so easy. But you weren’t the one standing there, humiliated in front of everyone you knew. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To be stripped of your dignity and left with nothing?”

 Jonathan’s tone was calm, but his words cut sharp. “I know exactly how it feels. The question is: do you want to stay there?”

 Ethan stopped pacing. His fists clenched. He wanted to scream that he had no choice, that humiliation had chained him. But a part of him — the part that held the device last night and pressed Yes — whispered that maybe, just maybe, there was another way.

 He turned toward the nightstand. The device pulsed faintly again, as though listening.

 Jonathan’s gaze followed his. “You’ve already accepted it, Ethan. The System won’t abandon you now. The only one who can walk away… is you.”

 Ethan exhaled shakily. “Even if this is real… what am I supposed to do with it? I don’t know anything about empires or power. I don’t even know how to stop people from spitting on my name.”

 Jonathan leaned forward, his voice steady and deliberate. “The System is not asking you to leap. Only to take the first step. It will teach you. It will shape you. But you must decide if you’re willing to begin.”

 The silence stretched. Ethan stared at the device, the same way a drowning man might stare at a lifeboat — half-convinced it was real, half-certain it was a cruel mirage.

 Finally, he picked it up again. The screen lit instantly.

 Good morning, Ethan Cole.

 Psychological Assessment: 67% disbelief. 33% determination.

His blood ran cold. It had read his thoughts. His exact feelings.

 “Impossible…” he whispered.

 Jonathan’s expression didn’t change. “Still think it’s a trick?”

 Ethan sank onto the bed, staring at the glowing words. His humiliation roared in his chest, but for the first time, something else matched it — the smallest ember of belief.

 “Maybe…” Ethan whispered, more to himself than Jonathan. “Maybe I’m not done yet.”

 The screen flickered again, almost approvingly.

 Directive Pending: Awaiting User’s Decision.

 Jonathan stood, picking up his briefcase. “You don’t need to decide everything today. But understand this … the world will not wait for you. Either you rise, or you remain where they left you. Trash. Broken. Forgotten.”

He walked toward the door, pausing only to glance back. “ But I doubt you’ll forgive yourself if you turn your back now.”

 The door closed softly behind him, leaving Ethan alone with the pulsing device.

 He stared at it until his reflection blurred in his own tired eyes. Humiliation still wrapped around him like chains. But now, there was a key in his hand.

The question was: would he use it?