The first thing Aaron noticed was the silence.
Not the absence of sound—there was wind, distant movement, a low hum that reminded him of electricity traveling through walls—but the kind of silence that came from being unnoticed. As if the world itself had not yet decided whether he was supposed to be there.
He opened his eyes.
The sky above him was not a sky. It stretched too evenly, a muted slate color without clouds or sun, like a ceiling pretending to be infinite. The ground beneath his back felt solid and cold, smooth like polished stone yet faintly warm, as though something beneath it was alive.
Aaron didn't move right away.
Panic came later, if at all. His mind worked through smaller, more manageable questions first.
I'm lying down.
I don't remember falling asleep here.
I don't remember waking up anywhere else.
That last thought lingered.
He sat up slowly, testing his body. No pain. No dizziness. His hands were his hands—long fingers, faint scars he couldn't remember earning, skin a shade darker than the stone beneath him. He wore simple clothes: dark pants, a plain shirt, worn shoes. Familiar enough that they felt like his, unfamiliar enough that he couldn't recall choosing them.
Memory came in fragments.
A room at night.
A window reflecting his own face back at him.
The glow of a screen, words scrolling endlessly.
The sense of watching rather than participating.
Someone calling his name from another room.
Aaron.
The name felt right.
He stood.
The space around him unfolded as he did. Wide, open, structured. Tall black pillars rose from the ground at irregular intervals, each etched with faint lines that pulsed slowly, like veins carrying light instead of blood. Between them stretched platforms and pathways that led nowhere obvious.
A place designed, not grown.
"Okay," Aaron said quietly.
His voice sounded normal. That helped.
He took a step forward.
The air shifted.
[INITIALIZING SYSTEM INTERFACE]
Aaron stared at the floating text.
"That feels… confident," he murmured.
The words hovered in front of him, suspended in the air. Not projected, not glowing aggressively—just there, white text outlined in soft blue, as if reality itself had decided to annotate.
[SCANNING SUBJECT]
A thin line of light passed over him from head to toe. It didn't hurt. It didn't even feel invasive. If anything, it felt clinical.
Aaron resisted the urge to flinch.
Observe first, something in him advised.
The text flickered.
[ERROR]
The word blinked once, then vanished.
Aaron waited.
"Take your time," he said politely.
A second passed.
Then:
[RECALIBRATING]
Aaron tilted his head slightly.
"Already?"
Another scan swept over him, slower this time.
[DETERMINING ORIGIN]
Images flashed behind his eyes without warning.
A street at dusk. Streetlights buzzing faintly. The smell of rain on warm concrete. A quiet apartment. A door closing somewhere far away. Not slammed. Just… closed.
His chest tightened, not with pain, but with something close to recognition.
[ORIGIN: UNKNOWN]
The text stuttered.
[ORIGIN: UNVERIFIABLE]
Aaron exhaled slowly.
That seems important.
[ASSESSING COMPATIBILITY]
Numbers followed. Dozens of them. They scrolled too fast to read properly, but he caught glimpses.
Strength.
Agility.
Cognition.
Resonance.
Most hovered at what felt like baseline—unremarkable, balanced. A few spiked briefly, then dropped back down as if corrected.
One column refused to stabilize.
[ANOMALY DETECTED]
This time, the word didn't vanish.
It stayed.
Aaron felt it settle over him like a label slapped onto a box someone didn't know where to shelve.
Anomaly.
He didn't dislike the word. That unsettled him.
[RECLASSIFYING]
[ERROR]
[RECLASSIFYING]
[ERROR]
The air vibrated faintly, as if something vast and distant had just frowned.
Aaron smiled—not wide, not amused, just enough to acknowledge the situation was no longer symmetrical.
"Sorry," he said to the empty space. "I'll try to be more cooperative next time. No promises."
[STATUS: UNCLASSIFIED]
[ACCESS LEVEL: RESTRICTED]
[RECOMMENDATION: OBSERVATION]
Observation.
That felt fair.
The pillars around him hummed louder. The ground shifted, patterns rearranging themselves. Pathways extended, forming a clear route forward.
Aaron followed it.
Not because he trusted it—but because standing still in an unfamiliar system was rarely the smart choice.
As he walked, more fragments surfaced.
A classroom.
Dust drifting through sunlight.
Teachers talking.
Other students laughing.
Invisible, but not ignored.
He had learned early how to exist quietly.
The path ended at a wide platform overlooking something vast.
A city.
Not a city like the ones he half-remembered. This one rose in layers, towers stacked atop one another in impossible geometry. Bridges crossed open air. Lights pulsed in rhythmic patterns. Above it all hovered translucent symbols—status markers, notifications, system prompts.
People moved below.
Humans. Or close enough.
Some wore armor shimmering with enchantments. Others carried weapons that looked grown rather than forged. Their movements varied—confident, cautious—but all shared one thing.
They were recognized.
Names, levels, classifications hovered faintly near them.
Warrior.
Analyst.
Architect.
Conduit.
The system loved labels.
[NOTICE]
[UNCLASSIFIED ENTITY ENTERING POPULATED ZONE]
[PROTOCOLS ENGAGED]
Aaron sighed softly.
"Of course they are."
The air beside him warped.
Three figures stepped out of nothing, uniforms dark and precise, insignias pulsing faintly.
Enforcers.
They surrounded him without aggression, only procedure.
"Unclassified entity," the one in front said calmly. "You are outside authorized parameters."
"I gathered," Aaron replied.
"State your designation."
He considered the question.
"Aaron."
"Designation incomplete."
"That's been a recurring issue today."
"Origin world?"
Aaron opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
"I don't… know."
"Memory degradation?"
"Fragmentation," Aaron corrected. "There's a difference."
[WARNING]
[DATA INCONSISTENCY ESCALATING]
Aaron felt it then.
Attention.
Not from the enforcers—from something higher.
The city dimmed slightly. Symbols froze mid-pulse.
[UNCLASSIFIED]
[YOU DO NOT ALIGN WITH ESTABLISHED PARAMETERS]
"Yeah," Aaron said quietly. "That's been my experience."
[RISK ASSESSMENT: INCONCLUSIVE]
[THREAT LEVEL: UNKNOWN]
[RECOMMENDATION: CONTAINMENT]
A weapon was raised.
Aaron didn't move.
The system hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a second.
[UPDATE]
[OBSERVATION PROTOCOL AMENDED]
[SUBJECT TO REMAIN AT LARGE]
[STATUS: ANOMALY]
The city dimmed for a breath.
[POTENTIAL FOR DEVIATION: EXTREME]
The enforcers lowered their weapons.
"You are not authorized," one said carefully. "But you are… permitted."
"That's usually how it starts," Aaron replied.
They vanished.
Aaron stood at the edge of a world that didn't know what to do with him.
No fear.
No triumph.
Only certainty.
This place has rules.
And rules can be learned.
He walked toward the city.
Behind him, unseen by anyone else, the system marked him carefully.
[MONITOR CLOSELY]
Aaron Vale did not look back.
Whatever he had been before, this world had given him a name.
Anomaly.
And for the first time, it felt like something he could grow into.