Cael Ardyn opened his eyes to a world that didn't make sense.
The sky above him was a jagged mosaic—fractured code stitched together with flickering light. Terrain pulsed beneath his body, glitching between stone, metal, and something disturbingly organic. The air smelled like static and rust. His limbs felt heavy, like they were made of wet iron. He tried to move, and pain lanced through his spine, sharp enough to make him gasp.
A translucent interface flickered in front of his eyes—half-loaded, half-corrupted. The stat bars were scrambled. His name was missing. His level read: "???" Only one stat remained visible:
Reboot Potential: 0.01%
He blinked. He didn't remember logging in. He didn't remember anything at all. His mind was a blank slate, stripped of context, stripped of history. He was a body in a broken world, a consciousness stitched together by fragments of code and pain.
A low hum vibrated through the ground. The terrain around him shifted again—stone to metal to bone. A ripple of corrupted data surged through the landscape, distorting everything in its path. Trees flickered into existence, then vanished. A tower appeared in the distance, then collapsed into pixels. The world was unstable, a half-rendered nightmare.
He sat up, groaning. His body felt real—but the world didn't. His breath came in ragged bursts, fogging the air. He pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the thrum of something alien beneath his skin. His heart beat, but it wasn't just blood pumping—it was data, cursed energy, something unnatural.
Welcome to the Digital Abyss.
Survival Protocol: Active.
Cursed-Tech Detected.
A small icon blinked in the corner of his vision. He focused on it. The interface zoomed in, revealing a nearby object: a shattered relic half-buried in the ground. It pulsed with a dull red glow, like a heart struggling to beat.
Cael crawled toward it, each movement a battle against the heaviness in his limbs. The relic was shaped like a cube, but its edges were jagged, bleeding light. Symbols danced across its surface—cursed runes, half-erased, half-corrupted. As he reached out, the relic pulsed.
Codex Fragment: Syncing…
Pain exploded in his chest.
He screamed.
The world went white.
When he came to, he was lying on his back, gasping. His chest burned. Something had embedded itself beneath his skin—a shard of the relic, now fused into his sternum. The interface flickered again.
Codex Fragment Installed.
Emotion Gauge: Locked at 99%.
System Boot: Partial.
Cael staggered to his feet. The terrain around him had stabilized—barely. The sky still flickered, but the ground held. He looked down at his hands. They trembled, but they were his. He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of reality—or something close to it.
A sound echoed through the air—wet, dragging, wrong.
He turned.
A figure emerged from the glitching forest. It was humanoid, but twisted—limbs too long, face smeared with static. Its eyes glowed red. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged data-teeth. The thing moved like a corrupted file, jerking forward in broken frames.
WRAITH DETECTED.
Combat Protocol: Offline.
Survival Tip: Run.
Cael didn't need convincing.
He bolted.
The terrain shifted beneath his feet, trying to trip him. The Wraith shrieked and gave chase, its body flickering between frames. Cael's breath came in ragged bursts. His legs burned. He stumbled, fell, rolled, and kept running. Panic surged through him, raw and primal. He didn't know what the Wraith was, but he knew it wanted him dead.
Ahead, a structure loomed—a broken forge, half-buried in the ground. Its surface pulsed with cursed energy, runes crawling across its frame. It looked ancient, alien, alive.
Cael dove toward it.
The Wraith lunged.
He slammed his hand against the forge.
Cursed-Tech Interface: Activated.
Forge Type: Glitch-Stabilizer.
Input Required: Relic + Emotion.
Cael didn't understand—but he felt something stir inside him. Rage. Fear. Desperation. His locked Emotion Gauge trembled, threatening to overflow. He screamed and shoved the relic shard into the forge.
The forge roared to life.
Light exploded outward, slamming into the Wraith. It shrieked, distorted, and dissolved into corrupted particles. The air vibrated with static, then fell silent.
Cael collapsed.
Silence.
Then—
System Message: Reboot Potential Increased.
New Value: 0.03%
He lay there, panting, staring at the sky. His chest burned, his lungs ached, but he was alive. Alive in a world that wasn't real. Alive in a nightmare stitched together by cursed code.
What the hell was this place?
The forge pulsed beside him, now stabilized. Its interface flickered, revealing a new option:
Craft: Glitch-Stabilizer Drone
Materials: Codex Fragment + Emotion Residue
Cael hesitated. Then he tapped "Craft."
The forge whirred. A small drone emerged—jagged, unstable, but functional. It hovered beside him, scanning the terrain. Its eye glowed faintly, casting a pale light across the corrupted ground.
Drone Function: Anomaly Detection
Status: Linked to User: Cael Ardyn
His name. It was back.
He stared at it.
Cael Ardyn.
It felt familiar. It felt… right. A tether to something he couldn't remember. A reminder that he was more than just a glitch in the system.
The drone beeped.
Anomaly Detected: Nullspire Pathway
Distance: 3.2 km
Threat Level: Moderate
Cael stood, legs shaking. He looked toward the indicated direction. The terrain shimmered, revealing a path—twisted, broken, but navigable. He clenched his fists. He had no choice. He had to move forward.
He started walking.
As he moved, fragments of memory flickered at the edges of his mind.
A lab. A voice. A countdown.
"Cael, if this works… you'll be the key."
Then—static.
He shook his head. The memories were broken, corrupted, like the world around him. He couldn't trust them. Not yet.
The drone beeped again.
Emotion Residue Detected.
Source: User.
Gauge Status: 99%.
He frowned. Why was it locked? What happened at 100%? The thought gnawed at him. The gauge was a ticking bomb, a locked door, a secret waiting to explode. He didn't want to find out—but he knew he would have to.
The path led him through shifting terrain—glitching trees, corrupted rivers, fragments of buildings frozen mid-collapse. The drone hovered beside him, scanning constantly. Its light cut through the static, guiding him forward.
He passed a statue—half-erased, its face smeared with static. A plaque beneath it read:
"To the First Reclaimer. May your code endure."
He paused.
Reclaimer.
Was that what he was? A title, a role, a destiny? The word echoed in his mind, heavy with meaning. He didn't understand it, but it felt important. It felt like a clue.
Hours passed. The terrain grew darker. The sky flickered more violently. The drone beeped.
Nullspire Perimeter Reached.
Warning: Mutation Events Possible.
Ahead, a city loomed—twisted towers, glowing runes, masked figures moving through the shadows. The air pulsed with cursed energy, thick enough to choke. The city was alive, breathing, watching.
Cael stepped forward.
A voice echoed in his mind.
"You are not the first."
He entered Nullspire.
And the system watched.