A thousand thoughts surged through my mind in an instant—doubts, anxieties, the faint thrill of the unknown.
Multiple dates… it sounded exhilarating on paper, like a romantic adventure waiting to unfold.
But the shadow of past heartbreaks lingered, whispering caution in every corner of my mind. Could I really survive this? Could I really trust myself to navigate multiple potential romances without falling apart?
I squared my shoulders, drawing in a steadying breath. I've made the choice. I came this far. Giving up now isn't in my dictionary. I am Arisa, after all.
"I guess… it wouldn't hurt to try," I said, my voice firmer than I felt.
My cheeks warmed at the thought, betraying the image forming in my mind of charming strangers, long conversations, awkward silences, and maybe—just maybe—a spark that could ignite.
"I mean… I don't mind taking the challenge of a harem—I mean, multiple dates."
Mavrik's smile deepened, sharp and knowing, as though he could see every blush, every hesitation, every heartbeat.
"Looks like you're beginning to see the bigger picture now, eh?"
Before I could respond, he rose with fluid ease. The faint scent of his woody cologne brushed against me. The polished floor reflected the subtle gold light above, and his sudden movement made my pulse quicken.
"Sign here."
He swiped a finger across the tablet, the glass surface gleaming, and pointed to the line waiting for my mark.
I exhaled, my fingers trembling slightly as I held the stylus. The weight of the moment pressed against my chest—a cocktail of anticipation and fear.
Then, with a decisive nod, I signed the contract.
The instant my signature touched the screen, a burst of golden-white light engulfed me. The world dissolved and reassembled, and in a heartbeat, I was back in my office.
The familiar hum of electronics and the muted city noise seeped back in, grounding me—but the air still tingled, charged with the promise of what had just begun.
A voice broke the silence, crisp and confident.
"Welcome, Premium user. Please check the SCAL app to start redeeming the New Identity Pass and set your preferred identity. Until then, I wish you success in the SDDP program, Miss Arisa."
It was Mavrik. Smugness dripped from every syllable, and I could practically feel it pressing against my ribs.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long, shaky sigh. The faint scent of my office—coffee, paper, polished wood—was grounding, yet I couldn't shake the tingling pulse in my fingertips.
"Right," I muttered under my breath, a wry smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
"Success in my relationships. This better be worth the sacrifice…"
SCAL Notification: New Identity Pass available. Redeem now?
My phone buzzed again, insistent, almost impatient. The notification glared at me like a spotlight in a dark room.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then tapped it.
Instantly, the app interface shifted. Icons I hadn't noticed before sprang to life, glowing softly against the sleek background.
One of them—a small icon shaped like an ID card—blinked with a tiny red tooltip.
Hmmm… this must be the New Identity Pass, I thought, my pulse quickening.
I tapped the icon. The screen blurred for a second, then resolved into a single, simple display: a profile picture placeholder, a small title at the top—Persona.
"Persona?" I whispered aloud, curiosity curling through me.
My fingers hovered for a heartbeat, then I tapped to open it, as though the slightest touch might trigger something irreversible.
The interface pulsed softly beneath my fingertips, a subtle vibration that sent a shiver up my spine.
The glow of the screen reflected in my eyes, making the empty office feel suddenly smaller, almost intimate.
My breath caught as I waited to see what this "Persona" might hold—and what it might demand of me.
A name appeared on the screen.
My eyes immediately locked onto it: Ariana.
I tapped it. The interface shifted, revealing the full details of Ariana—the identity I had crafted for myself.
She was listed as my niece, carefully constructed to explain away the uncanny youth I now possessed.
The app had unlocked every setting automatically when I redeemed the New Identity Pass, letting me see and modify everything.
I swiped through the options, my fingers brushing over the smooth glass.
I could edit her name, her background, even her physical features—hair, eyes, height, everything.
It felt almost eerie to hold that kind of control, to be able to reshape a person as if she were clay.
The only restriction was the relationship status, locked firmly as single.
Another option caught my attention: Memories.
I tapped it, and a timeline unfurled before me, chronicling year by year the milestones of my life.
Every laugh, every heartbreak, every pivotal moment was cataloged neatly, ready for me to retain—or erase.
My heart pounded as I realized the magnitude of the choice: I could delete memories, or keep them, but only up to a total of twenty years.
I leaned back, staring at the screen, feeling the subtle vibration beneath my fingertips as the app pulsed softly like a heartbeat.
The glow reflected in my eyes, making the office feel smaller, almost suffocating in its intimacy.
What kind of power is this… this is like playing God, I thought, my chest tightening at the weight of it.
"So this must be what Mavrik meant," I muttered, scrolling through the options, "that I can selectively choose the memories I want to keep as part of my new identity."
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the interface, when suddenly my phone buzzed sharply. The screen lit up: Unknown Caller.
I swiped to answer.
"Hello, Miss Arisa. This is Michael, calling from Second Chance At Love," a crisp, professional male voice said, warm but efficient. "We've received notification that you're now a premium member and have activated the New Identity Pass."
"Erm… yes," I replied, my voice tinged with curiosity.
"Excellent. We're thrilled to welcome you as a SCAL Premium member. There will be a briefing at midnight tonight with your dedicated SCAL administrator regarding the SDDP program and the New Identity Pass," he continued, his tone cheerful yet businesslike.
"A briefing?" I frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Midnight? What kind of briefing is this, and why so late?"
"It's mandatory," Michael interjected smoothly, the professional cadence of his voice leaving little room for argument. "You'll gain significant benefits from attending. I assure you, it's completely safe."
I exhaled slowly, my mind racing at the thought of a midnight meeting in this already surreal journey. "Alright… and where will the briefing be held?"
"No need to worry," he replied, a faint hint of reassurance underlining the clipped professionalism. "Your SCAL administrator will personally attend to you."
I opened my mouth to ask more, but the line clicked softly, ending the call. A faint hum lingered in the phone, as if the echo of Michael's words still pressed against my chest.
I stared at the device for a long moment, heart thudding with a mix of excitement and unease. Midnight. SCAL administrator. Personally attend. My mind churned with possibilities.