The God Living in My Phone

Chapter 3: The Price of Power

Chapter 3: The Price of Power

Daren hurried along the cracked sidewalk, hand clamped over his pocket. The violet light from the coin pulsed like a bruised heartbeat through his jeans.

“Seriously, shut it off,” he hissed. “You said this thing is a beacon. I might as well be carrying a neon ‘Eat Me’ sign.”

“The light is a byproduct of its containment,” Aethelgard’s voice vibrated in his teeth. “It has no off switch. It is a fragment of a collapsed reality. If it inconveniences you, you should have left it in the ash.”

“And let someone else find it? Yeah, right.” Daren reached his building, fumbled with the keys, and dove inside. He took the stairs two at a time, legs strangely light, as if gravity had loosened its grip. Inside his cramped studio he slammed the door, locked every bolt, and leaned against the wood in the dark, breathing hard.

“Okay. Where do I hide a glowing interdimensional coin?”

“The closet,” Aethelgard suggested. “Under the weight of your discarded failures.”

“You mean my laundry? Real funny, Archy.” Daren shoved the coin deep into an old hiking boot, wrapped it in a winter coat, and buried it in the darkest corner. “Still glowing?”

“The obstruction mitigates the visual spectrum. To those who hunt by scent and soul, you have simply gift-wrapped a snack. Attend to your interface. You have assets that require allocation.”

Daren pulled out the glowing phone. “Assets? These Stamina Points?”

“Three points from the Shade-Eater. Currency of your physical evolution. Spend them or they evaporate.”

“Can I spend them on a better personality for you?” He scanned the menu. “Agility, Strength, Perception. What if I dump them all into Agility?”

“Your nervous system will overclock. The world will appear to slow. Taxing, but necessary.”

“Fine. All three into Agility. I’d rather be fast enough to run than strong enough to die.” He tapped the screen.

Ice water poured down his spine. Muscles twitched. “Whoa. Am I supposed to feel like I’m vibrating?”

“Your cells are adjusting. Test it. Go to the window.”

Daren stood. Every movement felt fluid, dangerously fast. At the window the world sharpened: the hum of a refrigerator three rooms away, the individual wings of a moth against the streetlamp.

“This is insane.”

“Look at the intersection,” Aethelgard commanded. “The blue sedan.”

A small car sped toward the crosswalk. A teenager walked with headphones, eyes on a phone. The driver was equally distracted by a glowing screen.

“He’s not stopping! Aethelgard, do something!”

“I am a catalyst, not a savior. You are the instrument. You have the speed. Watch, or act?”

“I’m on the third floor!”

“The fire escape is three feet to your left. Spend a point of Stamina to activate Flash Step. Move, or the street will be painted in regret.”

Daren lunged, scrambled onto the grating. “How do I—”

“Think it! Will your body to be where the danger is!”

He leaped. The world blurred. His feet hit the pavement across the street. He reached the teenager just as the sedan’s bumper closed in, grabbed the backpack, and yanked the kid clear. The car roared past, brakes screeching twenty feet down the road.

Daren stood heaving. The teenager sat dazed. “What just happened? How did you move that fast?”

“Luck. Watch where you’re going.” Daren’s vision swam. “Go home.”

“You were over there… then here.”

“Fast sprint.” He bolted into the alley before the driver could get out, climbed the fire escape, and collapsed inside, sliding the window shut.

“Tell me nobody saw that.”

“The mundane will see a blur. But look across the street. The roof of the grocery store.”

A figure in dark tactical gear stood perfectly still, visor shimmering with faint violet light.

“Is that another one of you?”

“No. A Collector. Vultures who follow the wake of the Architects. They have tracked the coin’s signal since you picked it up.”

“So I have a stalker. Do I fight him?”

“You would die in four seconds. You are Level 2. He is significantly higher. For now he observes, deciding if the vessel is worth the harvest.”

“Harvest? I’m not a crop!”

“You are a conduit. Conduits can be emptied. Recover your breath. The midnight mission draws near. You have expended your stamina. You are vulnerable.”

“I’m always vulnerable!” Daren threw himself onto the bed. “I’m going to pretend this is a sucky dream.”

“Sleep will not save you from the countdown.”

He grabbed his normal phone. A text from a blocked number waited.

I know what you are doing, Daren. The Architect is a liar. Don’t go to the park at midnight if you want to keep your soul.

Daren sat bolt upright. “Archy? Somebody just texted my private number. They know my name. They know about you. They told me not to go.”

Silence. Then Aethelgard’s voice sharpened.

“The interference has begun earlier than anticipated. Trace the source—or ignore it. Defiance of the mission is the only way to ensure your immediate termination.”

“You’d kill me?”

“The contract was sealed when you cleared the park. There is no resignation. Only the architecture, or the void. Choose.”

Daren looked at the text, the closet hiding the coin, and the countdown on the other phone.

02:15:42.

“I really hate this job,” he whispered. Outside, the silhouette on the roof remained perfectly still, waiting for midnight.