It took less than six hours for Oblivion Thread to make noise.
And not the fun kind.
The first ping came quietly: a small request from a mid-tier crypto-trader in the underbelly of the East Vector District. An anonymous user flagged for identity bleed—a digital illness caused by overlapping stolen IDs. The client was flagged as untouchable by three data cartels.
In short? A suicide case.
Kade reviewed the request with his boots on the desk, Echo humming softly beside him. The System projected the dossier.
> Client Tag: "ShadeMoth_7"
Issue: Identity Instability – Risk of Collapse
Danger Level: 3.5/5
Pay Offered: 0.4C
Reward Potential: None. Just a test.
Kade cracked his knuckles. "Let's get our hands dirty."
He activated Oblivion Thread's beta function: a Glitch-Sync Recovery Protocol. Something the Echo had helped design, half-based on corporate tech, half-built from code the city had tried to erase.
The interface went live.
Ten minutes later, ShadeMoth_7 had a stable ID shell and a functioning credit trail again.
> [Client Response: HOLY HELL. What did you DO?]
[Client Response: Can I refer? Is this… is this Thread legit?!]
Kade didn't reply.
But the System chuckled.
> Thread ping activity up 12,000%. You broke the whispernet.
You're trending on something called "blacknode dev gossip."
Within an hour, twelve new requests came in. Then twenty. Then fifty.
And with them—eyes.
---
Across the city, in a penthouse high above Virelia's stormline, a woman in a holographic red dress leaned over a transparent console.
"Oblivion Thread," she said softly. "Wasn't that name on a blacklist ten minutes ago?"
Her assistant nodded. "It registered under a Kael Orien shell. It shouldn't exist. Yet it's performing…miracles."
The woman's eyes narrowed. Her pupils shifted into sharp hexagons—AI-enhanced. Predatory.
"Trace the origin. Quietly. I want to know who thinks they can set up shop in my market."
---
Meanwhile, back in the bunker, Kade watched the requests pour in—and with them, money. Real money. Not prize credits or System bonuses. Actual capital.
> Balance: 23,412 C (and rising)
System Comment: You're now officially middle class. Alert the media.
But with it came the alert.
> ALERT: Your network is being scanned.
> Origin: Unknown
Intent: Business Profile Mapping
Status: Partially Blocked
Kade leaned forward.
Someone was sniffing.
And they were good.
He activated the secondary Echo Core, launching a smoke protocol—scrambling Oblivion Thread's origin and re-routing operations through five decoy networks, including one that pinged from the moon.
But still.
They'd noticed.
He stared at the console and whispered, "Let them come."
---
Just as he stood up, the System pinged again.
But this wasn't from Thread.
> Message Received [Sender: Unverified | Title: Red Silk]
Message:
"You've been busy, Glitchborn."
"Nice logo, by the way."
"Let's see how well you handle your first fire."
> [Attached File: A ticking .zip archive titled "Welcome Packet"]
Kade hesitated.
Then opened it.
The lights flickered. The air thickened.
A virus launched into his bunker. Sophisticated. Fluid. Elegant.
It bypassed most defenses and began corrupting Oblivion Thread's backup drives.
The only reason it didn't succeed?
The Echo Code didn't let it.
A pulse of energy swept through the system—raw, glitch-born violence—and the virus was absorbed, dismantled, and repurposed into a firewall.
> [NEW FUNCTION: Red Silk Deterrent Activated]
Status: Thread Secured
Mystery Attacker Repelled
Kade's hands were clenched.
Whoever Red Silk was, they knew his alias. They knew what he was building. And they had style.
"System," he muttered, voice tight, "what do I need to break someone like that?"
> An army. Or better branding.
---
The day ended with Kade watching the city lights blink from the edge of a rooftop.
His company was alive. His enemies were smarter. And somewhere, Vel was still watching.
But he wasn't scared.
He was building something now. Not running. Not faking.
Owning.