The pulse reverberated through Callia’s skull—over and over, again and again. It didn’t hurt, but every ping jerked her neck toward the system’s waypoint. It disappeared then reappeared again.

  [54:23]

  She had learned through experience that the system forced these ‘quests’ onto her. But this was so disruptive it might as well have been a death sentence. What was stopping from giving her one in her sleep. Unless the system wasn’t the ‘quest giver’ but resource allocator of sorts.

  And what did "intended consequence" even mean? Penalization, punishment, or just being put at a disadvantage? Would it stop her from getting more system quests in the future? Will she receive physical backlash? The unknown faction did bother her.

  She did her best to follow the ping. It led her to a closed-off alleyway. At the end, a ladder stretched up toward a rooftop. She wanted to stop, to question why this was happening, but survival instinct kicked in. Making sure this went well, was her priority and by god she needed those credits.

  Climbing up, she found a large metal box waiting for her. Obsidian black. No markings, no symbols, nothing to indicate what it was. No sign that anyone had put it here for her.

  As she stepped closer, the system flashed again.

  Deliver a sealed package to a containment zone.

  Do not tamper with the box.

  What if she did peek inside, what were the consequences, would she put her life at risk. What was so important, she didn’t need a peeking. If she let it fall and broke, would the quest forfeit, would she pay for whatever was inside.

  No client details. No explanation. Just a ping and a countdown. What was it, blood diamonds, drugs, blackmail.

  Would the system even answer if she asked? Probably not. Probably because this was about moving something highly illegal or valuable without using known actors. That meant whoever was on the other end saw her as disposable manpower.

  She gritted her teeth, picked up the box, and started moving. It was heavy—not steel-and-metal-ball heavy, but heavy.

  [53:37]

  Fifty-three minutes were left. The destination was too long for a sprint. Too short for a safe route. And with this box it would be a chore. No time to waste. It had taken five minutes of full-on sprinting to get here. She left poor Auri back at the scrapyard, but she’d be fine, she was a regular. The sudden concern for her safety was because of how Auri had made her feel, a little warmth in this cold world…

  Sliding down the alleyway, Callia sprinted into the crowded street. A loud whirr and a honk broke out. She dove—just as tons of metal zipped past, unstoppable.

  A construction truck. It barely missed her. The force of the near miss sent her sprawling. The box slipped from her hands, but she managed to hold onto it by the base of her palm.

  The truck screeched to a stop. The driver jumped out, pale and horrified. “Shit! I didn’t see you!” He rushed over, offering a hand. “Are you alright?”

  His eyes immediately locked onto the metal box in her hands—unnaturally so. He started sweating, stepping closer, barely even looking at her.

  “Yeah, fine.” She stood up without taking his hand and bolted.

  “Hey!” he called after her.

  The amnesiac’s paranoia flared. What were the fucking chances that the moment she left the alley, she almost got run over? An accident? Probably. But her gut told a different story. She wanted to believe in coincidences, but she couldn’t.

  She shook off the encounter. She needed a better way to move—streets wouldn’t cut it. Too many people, too many vehicles in her way. She required high ground, and there was only one way without a hovercraft.

  Vaulting onto a dumpster, her feet threatened to slip as she leapt onto a metal pipe with small ramps. Climbing was a chore, but her strange athleticism gave her the edge. She scaled the rooftop—safer, faster than before.

  [48:42]

  Time was ticking, the ping pulsing in her skull. She stopped, closing her eyes, focusing—where exactly was it leading her? It vibrated in her head, redirecting. About two and a half miles away. Where the buildings were getting too taller.

  She gripped the package tight and sprinted, leaping across narrow gaps from roof to roof. Balance wavered. The limits of her endurance threatened to throw her off. Her legs burned. She could ignore it—until she couldn’t.

  After the fifth rooftop, a metallic whine filled the air behind her. Shadowing her movements. A drone. It seemed taking height over traffic had come with its own surprise. She skidded to a stop, eyes locking onto it as it circled. The thing focused on her. It wasn’t a passive entity, it was controlled, someone was watching her. She was not alone.

  A metallic click. Its light flashed red. Then—BANG.

  Gunfire. Callia twisted away as bullets shredded the rooftop. Concrete patches exploded behind her.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “What the hell is this? System, answer me!” she said as she fled.

  It did not, in fact, answer. [Deliver a sealed package to a containment zone.]

  “I’m not a goddamn courier, don’t give me orders!”

  [Deliver–]

  “Okay, I get it!” she said, out of breath.

  Callia threw herself into a roll, vaulting over a ledge. The machine pursued, tracking her relentlessly. Adjusting smoothly to her movements, it stayed just within the corner of her vision.

  Nowhere to hide. No cover. No exit.

  She had no choice. She dropped into the alley below, landing hard. Her eyes darted around for a hiding spot. A corner—too open, she’d be seen. The only alternative was a pile of trash bags stacked together. She could hide behind it.

  Callia crept between the waste, holding her breath. Hopefully it wasn’t equipped with thermal vision. The drone descended. It hadn’t spotted her yet. She ‘d chalk up to to luck. She grabbed a discarded pipe from the ground. The drone hovered past, scanning. Then she lunged.

  Bringing her full weight down, she slammed the pipe into it. The machine crumpled under her ferocious assualt, sparking and sputtering. She struck it again for good measure.

  [20 Threshold Points obtained.]

  Where the hell had this thing come from? First the driver, now a drone—it wasn’t a coincidence. Someone else wanted what she was carrying. A hidden condition the system hadn’t revealed to her.

  [Threshold point limit reached. Suggest user picks a class.]

  “Not now! Can’t you read the damn room?”

  She kicked the wreckage aside, tightened her grip on the box, and ran deeper into the urban maze. Her boot sole was loose. She had to balance her body perfectly to avoid falling. Her hands shook. Not fear—exhaustion. She couldn’t afford to slow down.

  [35:02]

  Time was flying. Only a mile and a half left. The urban hellscape shifted around her. The farther she ran, the one-story slums gave way to taller, looming structures. In the distance, gray towers blinked neon and belched smoke into the sky.

  She ran from alley to alley, doing her best to navigate what felt like an endless maze. A man stumbled into her path. Roughened up, disheveled, unsteady. Hands buried in his pockets, eyes darting wildly as he observed from afar.

  His gaze locked onto the package. Pupils dilated. “Please!” he begged. “The package—I need it! I need it, please!”

  [DO NOT INTERACT.]

  “I’m sorry, but get the hell out of my way. My life depends on this.” Maybe reasoning was pointless, but Callia was tired of the endless violence she’d witnessed since arriving here.

  “You don’t understand. My life is on the line.”

  “So is mine. Move!”

  His hands twisted in his pockets. A pistol flashed upward, leveling with her head. His finger tightened—already pulling the trigger. A gunshot cracked through the air. Pain flared in her side. Her psionic reacted in an instant—a shield of sorts, born out of instinct or necessity. The bullet lost its velocity.

  Callia rushed forward as he fired again. She twisted, dodging, and grabbed the gun. He struggled. He was weaker than her, but he fought desperately, refusing to let go.

  Then—he bit her. “Aaarrgh, fuck! Get off me!”

  Both of their hands wrestled for control. Then—BANG.

  Callia staggered back. The assailant collapsed on the ground.

  Blood seeped from his forehead.

  She couldn’t recall pulling the trigger, he got killed by his own incompetence. He stopped twitching.

  An armada of footsteps echoed, closing in fast. More people. Did the gunshot alert them, were they more pursuers. It could very well be bystanders or police enforcers. Could be reinforcements even. Either way, she wasn’t waiting to find out

  Callia spared him one last glance before running. No time to think—only survival. No time to mourn. Whatever his reasons were, they didn’t matter now. She had her own.

  The ping rang out again.

  She climbed a rooftop, bolting. Leapt across a two-meter gap—missed. Slammed into the ledge on the other side, barely catching it. She rolled onto her side, trying to absorb the pain.

  The ping pulsed once more. Below, at the edge of a corner, was the final destination. She climbed down, sliding along a pipe, and placed the package on the ground. No one in sight. No one to question. No one to ask.

  Just her. And the metal box.

  She kneeled, setting it in the center. Then—silence. She waited.The pinging stopped.

  [New Directive: Walk Away.]

  She hesitated.

  Dragged into this with no explanation—shot at, hunted—and now they wanted her to just leave?

  The system repeated:

  [Leave.]

  Breathing hard, she forced herself to obey. She nodded. “I did what you asked. And now you won’t even tell me why?”

  She stepped out of the obscure corner, back onto the streets.

  “Goodrift, answer me!”

  A message popped up:

  [Nova Ardour: No Goodrift here. I suggest you walk. The client is satisfied. You fulfilled your task. Now get lost.]

  “Wait, what?”

  A different AI. The cities Ai. Nova Ardour. She was in a different district. It made sense—she’d stepped out of the slum’s jurisdiction. Every district area was overseen by a hierarchy of Artificial rulers.

  The world around her wasn’t a slum anymore. The streets were lined with small-rise buildings, sleek modernism, more cars than she was used to seeing.

  And ‘client’—what client? Client. Not system. That meant a real person was pulling the strings. Someone was working through the system, and she danced to their tune. Why the fuck was it mandatory, that implied her survival was at risk.

  [SYSTEM ALERT: Mandatory Quest – “Package of Life and Death” Completed.]

  You can go home now. Thanks for your cooperation, stranger.

  Stat Gains:

  Mobility (MOB): +1 (Due to high Conditioning)

  Credits Deposited: 541

  Threshold Points: 250 TP [Exceeding limit]

  Approval Gained with Heccatek Corporation

  “Heccatek?” Callia panicked. She bolted back toward the corner. Ghosts greeted her. The package was gone. She’d only turned away for a moment. Someone had been here waiting to snatch it. She was being played.

  In its place, a single paper note lay on the ground.She picked it up. The message read:

  [Impressive display. For someone as fresh as a newborn, you handled yourself well. We hope to cooperate with you soon. We suggest you specialize as soon as possible—you wouldn’t want any unwelcome surprises.]

  Paranoia. Conspiracy. Call it what you want—someone had noticed her.

  Heccatek Corporation. The note definitely read as a threat. She was in a system induced hellscape. It made sense that corporations would be able to touch the lives of the unfortunate and the poor. Someone wanted something from her. She was surprised honestly, if being an invader was such a problem, she should have been swarmed by these peoples.

  No matter. She’d let the issue rest for now. She’d ask Kara about it later.

  As the adrenaline faded, pain flared back to life.

  She walked back toward Goodrift. Would it had known what had occurred she was in the slums when this quest was presented. She’d ask it. No signs of pursuers. No trace of the chaos left behind. It was like they had all vanished the moment the quest ended.

  All the more reasons to believe she was trapped in some military simulation. But the pain, her nerves and her feelings it felt real.

  The man she’d killed accidentally—that memory a burned into her mind. No name. No warning. Just a man who tried to stop her. And she’d never know why.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She felt drained. Exhausted.

  Callia knew she should go back to Auri, give her a proper farewell, but… she couldn’t stomach it.

  And something told her—

  Heccatek wasn’t done with her yet.