Chapter 1: The Hunger
Marcus Chen stared at the rejection email on his laptop screen, the words blurring together as his eyes watered. We regret to inform you that your application for the Data Analytics internship has been unsuccessful...
Another one. That made fifteen rejections this month alone.
He slammed the laptop shut harder than necessary, causing his roommate Jake to look up from his gaming setup across their cramped dorm room. "Rough day in job-hunting paradise?"
"Fuck off, Jake." Marcus flopped back on his bed, staring at the water stain on the ceiling that looked like a twisted face. Sometimes he swore it was mocking him.
"Dude, chill. There's tons of other—"
"Tons of other what? Opportunities for a barely-passing Computer Science major with no connections and a GPA that screams 'I gave up sophomore year'?" Marcus laughed bitterly. "Face it, man. Some people are just destined to be failures."
Jake went back to his game, probably some new fantasy MMO where he got to be a hero saving digital princesses. Marcus envied him sometimes—at least in games, effort actually mattered. Work hard, level up, get stronger. In real life, it didn't matter how hard you tried if you weren't born with the right advantages.
Marcus's stomach growled, reminding him he'd skipped dinner again. Not by choice—his dining plan had run out last week and his part-time job at the campus bookstore barely covered ramen noodles. He grabbed his wallet from the desk, knowing exactly how much was inside: twelve dollars and thirty-seven cents. Enough for maybe three more meals if he was careful.
His phone buzzed. A text from his mom: How are your job interviews going, sweetheart? Dad says his friend at IBM might have something opening up soon!
Right. Because his dad's college drinking buddy who hadn't talked to their family in five years was definitely going to hand him a job out of the goodness of his heart. Marcus typed back: Great mom, lots of promising leads.
Another lie to add to the collection.
The hunger in his stomach grew worse, gnawing at him like something alive. When was the last time he'd actually felt full? Not just "not starving" but actually satisfied? He couldn't remember.
Marcus pulled on his jacket and headed for the door. "Going to the vending machine," he mumbled to Jake.
The hallway was quiet except for muffled music coming from the room three doors down. Sarah Martinez lived there—pre-med student, dean's list every semester, already had a paid internship lined up at some prestigious research lab. Marcus had harbored a crush on her freshman year until he realized how completely out of his league she was. These days, seeing her just reminded him of everything he wasn't.
The vending machine hummed in the common area, its fluorescent light casting harsh shadows on the worn carpet. Marcus fed it his crumpled dollar bills and selected a bag of chips—not filling, but it would quiet his stomach for a few hours.
As he tore open the package, a wave of dizziness hit him. The room spun slightly, and for a moment the vending machine seemed to flicker like a broken TV screen. He blinked hard, assuming it was just low blood sugar.
Then the pain started.
It felt like something was crawling inside his skull, wriggling behind his eyes. Marcus dropped the chips, pressing his palms against his temples as the sensation intensified. It wasn't quite pain—more like pressure, as if something was trying to push its way out from inside his brain.
What the hell—
The world exploded into white light.
When Marcus came to, he was lying on the common room floor with Jake crouched over him, looking worried. "Jesus, dude, you just collapsed. I heard the noise from down the hall. Should I call campus medical?"
Marcus sat up slowly, his head pounding but the strange crawling sensation gone. "No, I'm fine. Just... haven't been eating much lately."
That was when he noticed it.
Floating in his peripheral vision, like an afterimage burned into his retina, were translucent blue letters:
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION COMPLETE
HOST INTEGRATION: 100%
WELCOME TO THE HARVEST
Marcus blinked hard, but the words remained. He turned his head, and they followed his gaze like they were printed on the inside of his eyelids.
"You sure you're okay?" Jake was saying. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Yeah, I..." Marcus struggled to his feet, the mysterious text still hovering in his vision. "I think I just need some sleep."
But as Jake helped him back to their room, more text appeared:
SCANNING LOCAL AREA...
POTENTIAL SOURCES DETECTED: 47
BEGINNING BASIC TUTORIAL
TARGET ACQUIRED: JAKE MORRISON
ANALYZING...
PRIMARY ASPIRATION: PROFESSIONAL GAMING CAREER
NUTRITIONAL VALUE: MODERATE
WOULD YOU LIKE TO FEED?
Marcus stopped walking so abruptly that Jake bumped into him. "What's wrong now?"
The words hung in Marcus's vision, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. And underneath the confusion and fear, he felt something else—a gnawing emptiness that had nothing to do with his empty stomach. It was deeper than hunger, more primal. Like a part of him he'd never known existed was suddenly, desperately starving.
Feed? What did that even mean?
Jake was still looking at him with concern, and Marcus realized his roommate was talking about his dreams again—how he was going to make it big streaming, how he'd already gained fifty followers this month, how his parents didn't understand but he knew he had what it took to make gaming his career.
The hunger inside Marcus intensified as Jake talked, as if it was drawn to something in his roommate's words. The enthusiasm, maybe. The hope.
TARGET IS OPTIMAL FOR FIRST FEEDING
TUTORIAL MODE ACTIVATED
MENTAL COMMAND: "CONSUME" TO PROCEED
Marcus tried to ignore the text, but the hunger was getting worse. It felt like there was something hollow inside him that needed to be filled, and Jake's passionate rambling about his gaming dreams seemed to make it ache more intensely.
"...and I know everyone thinks it's stupid," Jake was saying as they reached their door, "but I really believe I can make this work. I've got the skills, you know? I just need the right opportunity to show what I can do."
The word consume echoed in Marcus's mind, and before he could stop himself, he thought it with crystal clarity.
The effect was immediate.
A strange warmth flowed through Marcus, starting from his chest and spreading outward. The gnawing hunger receded, replaced by a feeling of... satisfaction. Like he'd just eaten a perfect meal after days of starvation.
Jake stopped talking mid-sentence, blinking in confusion. "What was I... oh, right, my streaming stuff." He shrugged. "I guess it's probably a waste of time anyway. My parents are right—I should focus on my accounting degree."
FIRST FEEDING SUCCESSFUL
ASPIRATION CONSUMED: PROFESSIONAL GAMING AMBITIONS
ENERGY GAINED: 15 UNITS
LEVEL UP!
CURRENT LEVEL: 1
NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: BASIC SCAN
TUTORIAL COMPLETE
Marcus stared at Jake in horror. His roommate's entire demeanor had changed. Where before he'd been animated, passionate about his streaming goals, now he seemed... deflated. Like someone had let the air out of him.
"Jake, what about that tournament you were training for? The one with the cash prize?"
Jake looked genuinely confused. "Tournament? Oh, that online thing. Yeah, I don't know why I was wasting time on that. I've got more important stuff to worry about." He sat down at his desk and opened his accounting textbook with the enthusiasm of someone facing a root canal.
The satisfied feeling in Marcus's chest was already fading, the hunger beginning to return. And as he looked at his roommate—really looked at him—he could see new text appearing:
JAKE MORRISON - UPDATED SCAN
PRIMARY ASPIRATION: NONE DETECTED
SECONDARY ASPIRATIONS: MODERATE ACADEMIC SUCCESS, STABLE EMPLOYMENT
NUTRITIONAL VALUE: LOW
NOTE: PREVIOUSLY CONSUMED TARGETS PROVIDE DIMINISHED RETURNS
Marcus sank onto his bed, his mind racing. What the hell had just happened? What had he done to Jake? And more importantly—why did part of him want to do it again?
The hunger was still there, smaller now but growing. And he could sense them—other people in the dorm, their hopes and dreams calling to him like the smell of food to a starving man.
Down the hall, Sarah was probably studying for her MCAT, burning with ambition to become a surgeon. In the room below, he could practically feel the creative energy of that art student who painted until three AM every night, dreaming of gallery showings and recognition.
So much potential. So much... nutrition.
Marcus buried his face in his hands, but the system's blue text was still there, waiting behind his eyelids:
HUNGER LEVEL: 23%
NEXT FEEDING RECOMMENDED WITHIN 24 HOURS
TIP: HIGHER ASPIRATION TARGETS PROVIDE GREATER SUSTENANCE
Outside his window, the campus was full of students chasing dreams, working toward goals, burning bright with hope and ambition. And Marcus could feel every single one of them, calling to the thing that was now living inside him.
The thing that was hungry.
The thing that was him.