Chapter 4: The Afterglow
The silence of his cubicle was different this time. It wasn't quiet; it was the silence of a predator's den, thick with the echoes of a fresh kill. The air still carried the faint, acrid scent of smoke, a smell that was now a part of him, like the new strength humming in his veins.
He didn't need to pull up the stream. It was playing everywhere. On public news feeds, his face—illuminated by hellfire, tear-streaked and serene—was the top story. "ARSON ANGEL OR ECO-TERRORIST?" the headlines screamed. Commentators debated his "artistic statement." The cello piece he'd used was now topping music charts.
He was a star.
A new icon had appeared in his vision, nestled next to the golden heart: a small, jagged crown wrought from flickering digital flame. Three of them. The Chaos Crowns.
"Explain," he thought, the word feeling like a command.
"Trophies of high-impact performance," the Stream-Weaver responded, her voice now carrying a new, subtle layer of respect. "They signify a qualitative leap in viewer engagement. Each crown can be redeemed for a significant one-time credit boost or used to unlock exclusive system functions."
"Like what?"
"A temporary stealth mode, hiding your stream from corporate surveillance for short periods. A 'Viewer Pulse' to directly poll your audience for major decisions. Or a 'Resource Requisition,' allowing you to temporarily commandeer low-level corporate assets."
Will's mind, sharper and faster now, immediately saw the strategic implications. Stealth mode. The ability to act without the entire world watching. The ability to plan.
Before he could delve deeper, a priority alert, different from the stream notifications, flashed in his vision. It was an internal arcology message, but it glowed with the same golden hue as his Omni-Stream interface.
**TO: Will Corvin**
**FROM: Arcology Management Division**
**SUBJECT: Re: Position Vacancy - Level 48 Sanitation Supervisor**
*Following the voluntary transfer of former Supervisor Graf, and in recognition of your… proactive and results-oriented approach to problem-solving, you are hereby promoted to the position of Sanitation Supervisor for Residential Levels 48-50. Your new credentials are attached. Your increased rent will be automatically deducted from your account.*
He let out a short, sharp bark of laughter that had no humor in it. They were promoting him. The arsonist. The psychopath. Because he was "results-oriented." The corporation wasn't punishing chaos; it was promoting it, so long as it was profitable. He was no longer just a streamer; he was a part of their management structure. The irony was so perfect it was vomitous.
A softer chime followed. A direct donation, an order of magnitude larger than any before.
`>>Nyx has donated: 10,000 Credits.`
`>>Nyx: A compelling composition. The juxtaposition of classical art and primal destruction was… evocative. You have an eye for narrative. Don't let them convince you to do something crude next time. The audience has a short memory for mere violence.`
Will froze. Nyx. The name meant nothing to him, but the weight behind the message was palpable. This wasn't a fan. This was a peer. A shark, circling in the same bloody water.
He pulled up her profile. It was minimal, sleek, and locked behind a privacy tier he couldn't access. All he could see was the name and a single, chilling line of text: *Omni-Stream Rank: #7.*
Number seven. In the entire system.
His Stream-Weaver, sensing his focus, provided a whisper of context. "Nyx specializes in systemic manipulation and high-stakes social engineering. Her streams are considered masterclasses in precision. This acknowledgment is a significant event. It places a target on you and elevates your market value."
Will leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic groaning under his newly enhanced frame. He looked around the cubicle. It was a coffin. He had a supervisor's salary now, but he had streamer's wealth. He could leave this place. He could get a real apartment, with a window that didn't look out onto another grimy wall. He could be near Ava.
The thought of his sister was a cold splash of reality. He pulled up her medical feed. Stable. Sustained. The money was a fortress around her. For now.
The new Stream Goal pulsed, patient and inevitable. He hadn't even looked at it yet.
**STREAM GOAL: A SHOW OF FORCE**
**Objective: Defeat a Corporate Security Enforcer in single combat.**
**Suggested Action: Publicly challenge and neutralize the target. Bonus for stylistic flair.**
**Reward: 100,000 Credits. Tier 3 Neural Enhancements.**
Single combat. They wanted him to fight a professional soldier. And they wanted it to be stylish.
He stood up, the movement fluid and unnaturally quiet. He walked to the wall and pressed his palm against it. With a slight push, a hairline fracture appeared in the plaster. The Tier 2 enhancements were real. He was a weapon now.
He looked at the three Chaos Crowns glowing in his vision. He looked at the message from Nyx. He looked at the promotion notice.
He was climbing a ladder made of broken glass and other people's dignity, and the higher he went, the more the world applauded.
The ghost of a smile, the one that had terrified him in Chapter 2, was now a permanent resident on his face. It wasn't a twitch or a phantom. It was him.
"Stealth mode," he whispered. "How long?"
"One crown provides fifteen minutes of untraceable operation within standard corporate domains," the Weaver replied.
"Good," Will said, his voice low and steady. "It's time to go apartment hunting. And then… it's time to find an enforcer."