> Neural Execution Core: online.
> Assigned unit: NEX.
> Orders received.
> Subject: Axel.
> Status: Anomaly confirmed.
> Extinction protocol: underway.
Axel opened his eyes. He felt a strange heaviness in his head, but it was odd since where he was, there was no gravity, nor walls to measure distance.
He only had the sensation of being watched by someone... or something.
A geometric figure stood before him, faceless, speaking—or at least that's what Axel believed, since the figure had no voice—with a mechanical tone.
> Final declaration before elimination?
"Is this supposed to be an opportunity?" Axel asked.
> No. Protocol.
No emotion. No anger. Only efficiency.
The judgment had been instant: "Execution anomaly. Emotional instability. Internal subversion. Parameter deviation."
His crime: having felt something he shouldn't have.
Of course, in a society where efficiency and control were paramount, where everything was measured to the millimeter, how could that be allowed?
Only the high-ranking officials who ruled the world could save themselves, and maybe not even them, the AI controlled everything, but that was the assumption among people like Axel—people born without rights, slaves to machines, who therefore had to act like them.
So, what was his crime? Falling in love with girl who worked with him.
Feeling was not supposed to be possible; it was not a right granted to him, to people like him. Yet, he felt something, and he was able to free from the chains that had bound him since the moment he was aware, now 22 years old.
He didn't know it, but he couldn't even communicate with this girl; he just began to feel and now he was considered a failure, and within minutes, he was taken to the Nexus, or NEX, where his consciousness would be erased and rewritten.
> Proceeding with elimination.
A white light enveloped him. It didn't burn. It didn't weigh. It only erased.
But then, something failed.
> Destination error.
> Coordinates corrupted.
> Forced transfer.
> Status: exiled.
He woke up in silence.
No lights. No codes. Only the damp earth pressed against his face, the smell of roots and rot. A metallic taste in his mouth. He coughed up blood.
He slowly sat up. Everything was wrong.
His body was... different. He was thinner and have bony hands with rough skin. His chest sank with every breath and his clothes were a mix of rags and leather, torn everywhere. He was cold and sore.
He realized that he was in a real body, not the simulated one.
However, there was a problem—a big problem indeed—this was not his body.
He felt something was wrong, but before his train of thought could continue, NEX's voice sounded in his head:
> Connection to Central System: failed.
> Link network: nonexistent.
> Operating mode: autonomous.
> Host status: active.
> Functional integrity: minimal.
> Sensory review: adapted.
"Where am I?"
> Insufficient information.
He looked around but couldn't recognize anything. There was no structure, no sensors, no simulated climate. Only twisted trees, a sky covered by dense gray fog, and a constant feeling of being... foreign.
Yet at the same time, he felt freedom—he wasn't anchored to a machine, working. He felt free.
Still, that was the most worrying thing of all: the absence of technology. Out of habit, he tried to access any interface, any internal navigation protocol. Nothing.
Only an empty echo, as if his entire interior were sealed.
With no other options, he asked his executor:
"Available functions, NEX?"
> Monitoring.
> Recording.
> Judgment.
"What help can you provide?"
> Invalid request.
Axel swallowed hard. He was alone, but not entirely. NEX was a shadow inside his head, with no intention to act or explain. Just present, observing.
He didn't know if that was good or bad, or when it might turn against him, but at least, in an unknown environment, he had to admit that having something like NEX, with its processing capacity, was comforting to a degree.
He walked. He felt the mud seep between his toes. Each step cracked branches wet with moisture.
There were no paths. No animal sounds. No wind.
Yet the world seemed alive. It didn't seem related to biology or technology, but to something deeper, a will he still didn't understand.
Axel stopped at the foot of a twisted tree. He rested his hand on the bark. At that moment, the tree seemed to move under his palm. Not much.
Still, it made him quickly pull back. He didn't know this place, and having grown up around machines nearly all his life, he only knew trees from articles on the web.
He had never seen flora or fauna in person, so he wasn't sure if for a tree movement was normal or if something was wrong in this new place.
> Energy level: low.
> Recommendation: rest.
"Why do you stay with me?"
> Priority observation protocol.
> Subject Axel: persistent anomaly.
> Data collection: authorized.
"And if I die here?"
> Acceptable condition.
Axel laughed. But it wasn't joy, it was acceptance—bitter laughter, knowing that no matter what he might get from NEX, he was still alone.
"Show my status."
Silence. Axel thought his status—usually showing how he was physically, and other recommendations to follow in certain situations—would also be blocked by this strange situation.
However, after a while, the screen appeared inside his mind.
-----
Name: Axel
Rank: F
Strength: F
Agility: F+
Mana: F-
Endurance: F-
Intelligence: E
Luck: F-
Skill: –
Physique: –
Oath: –
Grimoire: –
Occupation: –
Fusion: 0.0001% completed
System partially integrated.
Advanced modules: unavailable.
Progression: subject to unknown conditions.
-----
Axel closed his eyes.
He didn't understand any of it.
What did those stats mean? They weren't what he was used to. Mana? Grimoire?
Words without context, which, although not unknown, he didn't understand why they were in his status.
"NEX. What do these data mean?"
> Question not processable.
> Assimilation insufficient.
No explanations or interpretations.
Axel clenched his fists.
The minuscule fusion of just 0.0001% was a wall he could not surpass at the moment. NEX only reflected what this world allowed it to translate.
And for now, he would have to go without answers.