Chapter 7: The System's Shadow
[Time – Night – New York City Street]
The city was a loud, living thing at night, its sounds a cacophony of sirens, distant conversations, and the rumble of traffic. Adam walked the quiet streets, the chill in the air a welcome sensation. He felt a deep sense of unease. The contact with Coulson had unnerved him. He was no longer a ghost; he was a blip on a radar. He needed a distraction. He decided to test a new, un-used [F-Rank] ability that had recently unlocked. It was called [F-Rank: Emotional Fluctuation]. The description was vague, but he thought it might allow him to subtly change the mood of the people around him.
[SYSTEM: Activating F-Rank: Emotional Fluctuation. Target: 'Pedestrian Group (5)'.]
He focused on a group of people laughing on a street corner. The power flowed from him, a gentle, invisible wave of energy. He waited for them to feel a burst of misplaced joy, or maybe a sudden sadness. But nothing happened. The power didn't activate. Instead, a wave of disorienting sensory input hit him like a physical blow.
He saw a flash of a different face, a woman with tired eyes and a cold determination. He heard a voice he didn't recognize, a harsh, guttural sound that was not his own.
"Give me the core! Now!"
He felt a wave of fear, a primal, cold terror that wasn't his. He saw a flash of a System message, but it was in a different font, a different language.
"No. I can't."
The feeling of being afraid was so overwhelming, so real, he staggered backward, his hands flying to his head. He saw a brief flash of a dark alley, a glint of metal, and then… nothing. The sensation was gone, leaving him shaken and cold in the middle of a street.
What the hell was that? That wasn't me. That wasn't my memory. It was… an echo. A shadow of someone else's life.
He found a quiet alley, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He brought up his System menu, his hands shaking. He scrolled through the abilities, looking for a logical reason for the glitch. There was none. He was alone in a strange world with a System that had its own hidden, frightening history.
[Time – Later that Night – Adam's Apartment]
He was still trembling when he finally made it back to his apartment. He was in his small, unremarkable kitchen, a glass of cold water in his hand, but his mind was still in that cold alley. He felt like a guest in his own body, a visitor in a room that someone else had furnished. He felt a deep, existential dread.
He pulled up his System menu again, the familiar blue light a small comfort. He scrolled through his tabs, his eyes searching for something he had missed. He saw a new one, a tab he had never seen before. It was a file icon, a small, gray box. He clicked it.
[SYSTEM: Host Logs: Locked. Requires Level 15.]
He tried again, and again, but the message was the same. The tab was there, a solid, tangible proof of what he had experienced, but he couldn't access it. He was a prisoner in his own home, with a key he couldn't use.
Host Logs. Plural. It's not just me. I'm not the first. I'm just the latest. What did the others do? Where are they? The woman in the alley… who was she? What did she do with the core?
The questions swirled in his mind, a frantic maelstrom of fear and confusion. The whimsical fun of his initial mischief was gone, replaced by a cold, numbing horror. The System wasn't a game. It was a lineage. A legacy. A shadow of a past he didn't know, and a future he might not survive. He had to understand. He had to level up. The answers were just behind that gray, locked box.
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