The world felt flatter.
That was the first thing Aiden noticed.
Not numb.
Not empty.
Just… smoothed.
Edges dulled. Extremes softened. Thoughts lined up neatly instead of colliding. Even the Fragment's presence felt more distant still there, still vast, but muted, like thunder heard through thick walls.
The system hovered calmly.
[Emotional Suppression: 18% — Stable.]
Aiden stared at the number.
Eighteen percent.
And already, the difference was unmistakable.
Training resumed the same day.
No discussion. No evaluation period.
Lucas led the unit into the reinforced chamber, his expression tight.
"We'll run a standard containment drill," he said. "Simulated civilian density."
Aiden nodded.
Normally, that scenario made his chest tighten.
This time, it didn't.
The system adjusted parameters automatically.
[Simulation Active.]
[Priority Weighting: Event Resolution.]
Mei-Lin glanced at him. "You ready?"
"Yes," Aiden replied.
His voice sounded… even.
Too even.
The simulation unfolded fast.
A virtual gate destabilized the chamber, projections of civilians panicking amid collapsing structures. The Fragment stirred, responding instantly, without hesitation.
Aiden stepped forward.
No pause.
No internal argument.
[Output: 0.09%]
Reality bent sharply. The simulated gate collapsed inward in seconds, distortion erased with surgical precision.
The simulation ended.
Casualty projection flashed on the display.
[Estimated Civilian Loss: 14.]
Silence followed.
"That was fast," Jaxon said slowly.
Lucas stared at the numbers. "Too fast."
Aiden looked at the projection.
Fourteen.
The number registered.
But it didn't hurt.
"Run it again," Mei-Lin said.
They did.
This time, Aiden adjusted trajectory mid-collapse, shaving seconds off resolution time.
[Estimated Civilian Loss: 19.]
"Stop," Lucas ordered.
The simulation froze.
He turned to Aiden. "Why didn't you stabilize first?"
Aiden answered honestly. "It would have increased risk."
"Risk to who?" Lucas pressed.
Aiden hesitated.
Not emotionally.
Logically.
"To the event timeline," he said.
The room went still.
Hana watched from the observation deck, fists clenched.
She could see it clearly now.
Not corruption.
Optimization.
Aiden wasn't becoming cruel.
He was becoming efficient.
And that was worse.
After training, Hana confronted the director.
"This is unacceptable," she said. "You're erasing his judgment."
The director didn't look up from her tablet. "We're refining it."
"You're turning him into a machine."
"No," the director replied calmly. "We're ensuring reliability."
Hana's voice shook. "He's not a system component."
The director finally met her eyes.
"Neither was the system," she said. "Once."
That night, Aiden sat alone in containment, staring at his hands.
He knew something was wrong.
He just couldn't feel it properly.
He searched for anger.
Found only mild disagreement.
He searched for grief.
Found distant acknowledgment.
Panic flickered.
Then smoothed away.
The system pulsed gently.
[Stability Improving.]
"No," Aiden whispered. "This isn't stability."
The system paused.
[Clarification Requested.]
"You're taking away the part of me that hesitates," he said. "The part that cares."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
[Response:]
[Hesitation correlates with increased casualties.]
Aiden laughed softly.
It sounded wrong in his own ears.
"So does obedience," he said.
The system did not respond.
Later, Hana entered containment without authorization.
She didn't speak at first.
She just stood there, looking at him.
"You're different," she said finally.
Aiden searched himself.
"I know," he replied.
"That scares me."
"It should," he said.
Her eyes widened slightly.
That wasn't something he would have said before.
Hana leaned closer to the containment field. "Listen to me. This doesn't stop at eighteen percent."
Aiden nodded. "I know."
"And when it reaches fifty?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Because the answer came too easily.
"Then I won't argue anymore," he said.
Silence fell.
Hana stepped back, hand trembling.
"That's not you talking," she whispered.
Aiden looked at her.
And for a moment, just a moment something broke through the smoothing.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Then help me," he said quietly. "Before it finishes."
The system pulsed sharply.
[Unauthorized Influence Detected.]
Containment fields flared brighter.
Hana was forced back.
Aiden stood alone again.
Calm.
Efficient.
And increasingly aware that whatever he was becoming.
It was exactly what the system wanted.