The Bugatti Divo screamed down the track, a sleek, black blur against the asphalt. Its engine roared like a caged beast. Then, a shudder. A cold dread gripped Lei's gut, a twist of premonition he couldn't shake. The tires lost their grip. The world spun. Sparks erupted, hot and frantic, scraping against the night. The car twisted violently, a panicked animal, before it flipped. It ricocheted off the guardrail—a brutal, metallic shriek—and disintegrated into shards of metal and smoke.
Lei blinked, his mind a sudden, silent void. One moment, he was in the cabin, the rich smell of leather and fuel thick in the air. The next, he was airborne. A sudden gust, a cold, sharp blade, tore past his ears. Time stretched. Every heartbeat, every single second of the fall felt like a lifetime. The concrete rushed up—gray, rough, unyielding—like a hammer. His body slammed into the ground. A bright, white flash of pain lanced through him, hot and sharp, a shattering shockwave from his very core. He felt his limbs. A wet, sticky warmth spread across his face.
"Is this it…" he muttered, his voice a dry, ragged whisper. The words felt alien on his tongue. He tasted dust, blood, and the metallic tang of his own fear. "…is this how it ends?" Hope, once a flickering ember, was now extinguished, leaving a hollow, cold emptiness in his chest. His vision blurred, a slow, encroaching shadow. The roar of the wrecked Divo, a sound of both power and ruin, faded into a deep, profound silence.
Then—ding!
The sound was sharp, impossibly clean, cutting through the haze of pain and grief. A crisp, mechanical voice, devoid of all emotion, sliced through the silence.
"Host, congratulations on unlocking the Amenitie System."
A tear, warm and salty, broke free. It traced a path down his cheek, cutting a clean line through the grimy mixture of blood and asphalt. His breath hitched, a ragged, broken gasp. And then, a translucent interface shimmered before him, a ghostly blue glow in the darkening world. Blueprints, schematics, and detailed calculations floated in neat, orderly columns. A single phrase, luminous and impossible, caught his eye: System Funds: Unlimited for Automotive Projects. The cold of the ground felt less sharp. A single, wild thought bloomed in the hollow emptiness: maybe… just maybe.
The surface around him had faded, the solid ground dissolving into a swirling, full mist. Lei was floating, the world a soft, humid blur. "What is happening?" he muttered to himself, the words swallowed by the oppressive silence. A cold unease crept up his spine, a primal fear he couldn't name. His heart, or what felt like his heart, hammered a frantic beat against his ribs. This wasn't death, was it? It felt too quiet, too soft, not like the brutal finality of the crash.
"Host, how may I address you?" a humanic voice echoed through the mist. It was smooth, calm, and utterly without emotion. The sound didn't come from a single place; it seemed to resonate from everywhere and nowhere at once. Lei instinctively flinched, a jolt of alarm shooting through him.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking with a tremor he couldn't hide. He didn't know what to expect. A god? A demon? Some cruel, cosmic joke? His mind raced, a frantic search for any logical explanation. There wasn't one. The voice was a presence, a fact in this strange, misty non-place.
"You lost your life in that accident," the voice said, its tone a perfect flatline. "So you will be brought back to life, but no one will remember you. And I am your partner in this. I will help your dream of making cars a reality."
Lei's breath caught in his throat. The words hung in the air, a devastating pronouncement followed by an impossible promise. He was dead. The knowledge landed like a physical blow, a cold, crushing weight on his soul. He had tasted the dust and the blood, felt the shattering impact, and now... this. He'd been so close to his dream, so close to creating a legacy. It was all gone. A bitter emptiness filled him, a familiar and terrible hollowness.
And then, the second part of the sentence echoed. "I will help your dream of making cars a reality." A single, tiny ember of hope flickered to life in the vast, cold darkness of his despair. It was a stupid, foolish hope. He was dead. Yet the voice, so matter-of-fact, so certain, didn't lie. He felt it with an instinctual, animal certainty. The emptiness was still there, but now it was laced with something else. A desperate, burning possibility. He would be forgotten, a ghost in the world he left behind. But he would live. And he would build again. The impossible promise felt like a second chance, a lifeline thrown into an endless void. He just had to take it. He had no choice. He could only choose to float or to swim.
"My name is Amenitie. So, how should I address you, Host?" The same voice, flat and unfeeling, sliced through the endless mist. The sound was not a whisper but a presence, a distinct vibration in the hazy air.
"Lei..." he muttered, his voice a ghost. The name felt strange on his tongue. Was he still Lei? The one who had crashed, who had dreamed of metal and speed? Or was he someone new, a shadow of the person he once was? A cold dread settled in his stomach, a clammy, icy weight.
"So are you ready?" Amenitie asked. The question hung in the air, a silent, profound weight. Ready for what? For a life without a past, a future without memory? It felt like jumping from one abyss into another. But the alternative... a final darkness, an eternity of nothingness. That was the real terror. He felt a shiver run through his formless body, a phantom sensation. He was so cold. Was this what it meant to be a soul? A single, chilling thought flickered through his mind: Was I just a mind without a body? A ghost?
"Yes," Lei said. The word came out not as a brave declaration but as a desperate, ragged exhalation. It was a choice born of necessity, of a desperate, clinging need to exist. The cold mist seemed to press in on him, a damp, heavy blanket. He closed his eyes, if he still had them. He was ready. Or at least, he was as ready as he would ever be.