The heartbeat flatlined.
No alarms. No panicked staff. Just a soft, sterile silence that swallowed the room whole.
Liam Kessler didn't flinch.
The girl on the metal slab had stopped moving. Her eyes were half-open, glassy and blank. Around them, the gutted remains of the MetroClinic echoed with silence — broken light fixtures, rusted surgical arms dangling like vines.
He tapped his phone, loading the No Die Contract, and jammed the illegal syringe into her neck without hesitation.
"Say 'I accept'... or stay dead."
A green shimmer pulsed from the syringe as the nano-serum surged into her bloodstream — the glow so illegal it might as well have been a flare gun aimed at the government's skull. The label had been scrubbed, but Liam knew what it was: prototype neural reactivation compound. Banned. Buried. Forgotten.
And now, shot into the jugular of the most-followed influencer in the district.
@EvaTheEternal (3.2M followers)
[LIVE] "Dying rn lol—some health freak says he can save me? #DeathChallenge"
Comments:
"FAKE!"
"Do it coward!!"
"Reported for wellness propaganda."
"Wait is he using… VITAMINS???"
Her lips were turning blue. The livestream viewers surged past half a million. Her body spasmed once, seizing against the cold metal.
Liam's hands were rock-steady, but his heart thundered in his chest like a warning siren.
He'd revived people before. Street kids. Shadow-club dancers. Tech-runners burned out from stim cocktails.
But never someone like her. Never with this many people watching.
And never this loud.
"Five seconds," he muttered under his breath. Not to her. To the serum. To time itself.
The syringe hissed. The green fluid glowed brighter—swimming through her veins like lightning through dying wires. Somewhere, distant sirens started to hum beneath the city noise.
The chat feed went feral.
"OMG IS THAT A SUPPLEMENT???"
"THAT LOOKS LIKE A DRUG FROM THE OLD DAYS."
"HEALTH FREAKS ARE TERRORISTS!!"
"SOMEONE SEND A REAPER!"
Then—
She jolted.
Her back arched off the slab. Eyes flew open wide. And from cracked lips came a single word, clawed from the void:
"I… accept."
Her heart restarted. Not smoothly—like a machine kicking back into life after too many years of dust.
The No Die App on Liam's phone flashed with light:
CONTRACT ACCEPTED: 1 / 1,000,000
NEW CONTRACTOR REGISTERED.
PAYMENT RECEIVED: 3.2M FOLLOWERS.
WARNING: MINISTRY OF MORTALITY NOTIFIED. ETA: 02:00 MINUTES.
Liam's mouth tightened. His fingers slid the phone into his coat as he grabbed Eva by the arm.
"You said yes. That means you're mine now," he snapped.
"What?" Her voice was still shaking. "What the hell just happened? I… I wasn't serious—I didn't mean to—"
"No one ever does," Liam said.
Outside, the wind shifted. The clinic's steel doors hissed open—ancient locks overridden from the outside.
The Ministry was on its way.
And they didn't come with ambulances.
The ride back was a death sentence wrapped in advertisements.
The Sector Tram reeked of sweat, grease, and decay. The kind of smell that meant a city was bleeding slowly. Eva sat hunched across from him, wrapped in one of his old jackets, dazed. Still recovering. Still glitching.
Digital billboards flashed above the windows, programmed to scan every face and play personalized propaganda:
"Report unauthorized cardio! Reward: 10 years' life extension!"
"Sugar = Safety. Eat Govt-Approved Glucose™!"
"No More Running—Let the System Carry You™."
A toddler two seats away was chewing on a glucose lollipop the size of his face. His mother didn't even glance up when Liam coughed into his hand to hide the red glow on his wrist — the Wellness Risk Monitor blinking hot from illegal serum exposure.
He covered it fast.
"You didn't tell me this would be forever," Eva said, almost accusingly.
"You were dead."
"I was trending."
"Same thing."
She looked at him for the first time then. Not as some stunt-doctor. But as something else. Something worse.
"You're one of them."
Liam turned to the window. "I'm worse," he said. "I'm awake."
By the time they reached Liam's building, Eva's pulse was stable, but her hands trembled like crashing code.
The apartment wasn't much to look at — fifth floor, no elevator, walls stained from old fire suppression foam. A rusted camera stared down from the stairwell corner, watching them but doing nothing. Liam knew the type — blind on purpose. City tech left to rot. Forgotten just enough to be useful again.
His door was sealed with three analog locks. One turned. One clicked. One required a voiceprint of someone already dead.
He pushed the door open. The air inside smelled like dust and vinegar. The lights flickered on — dim yellow bulbs, barely stronger than candles.
Eva blinked.
The room was… a shrine. Not to any god. To a crime.
Health posters lined every wall — all illegal, all dangerous. Sunlight. Water. Movement. Resistance training diagrams. Breathwork infographics. Real, raw oxygen routines.
On the far side, across from a dismantled medical scanner, was a framed photograph of a young man flexing in front of a mirror, muscles corded, smile bright.
Someone had scrawled over it in blood-red ink:
"RIP JAKE — DIED FOR 'FITNESS.'"
Eva took a step back. "This is insane," she whispered. "You're one of those… Health Cult freaks."
Liam didn't answer. He was busy.
He dropped into the ragged desk chair, pulled out his phone, and swiped into the No Die App's developer terminal — a menu only visible to creators. Ones like him.
His name flashed.
USER: LIAM KESSLER
CONTRACTS COMPLETED: 1
CURRENT STATUS: CONTRACTOR INITIATED
ASSIGNED POWER: PLACEBO EFFECT [Tier 1]
NEXT UNLOCK: BIO-LOCK BREACH (Tier 2) – Complete 10 Contracts
Liam scoffed. "Placebo," he muttered.
The syringe hadn't been a sugar shot. It came from Bio-Lab 4, lifted during the final raid of the Protein Riots. He'd seen it work in lab rats. He'd used it on dying kids.
He pulled the vial out of his coat pocket. It glowed faintly green even now, empty but dangerous. A relic of rebellion.
"This stuff's not fake," he said aloud, to no one.
"It saved me," Eva said behind him. "So… what does that mean?"
Liam stood.
"It means your body just signed itself over to a system you can't see," he said, walking toward the far wall. "It means you're part of something the Ministry thought they destroyed. It means—"
A low beep interrupted him.
Then another.
And then the walls shook.
The window exploded inward, glass and steel crashing across the floor in a roar of wind and sirens.
A Reaper drone screamed through the gap — insectile wings folded, tail glowing with Ministry sigils. It landed in a crouch, unfolding into humanoid shape. Its face was a polished white mask. No mouth. No eyes. Just a glowing brand:
M.O.M — Ministry of Mortality
Eva screamed.
Liam didn't hesitate.
He grabbed her by the collar and dove behind the couch as a bolt of anti-wellness energy slammed into his kitchen — the fridge rotted instantly. Food liquefied. Shelves aged into crumbling mold.
The Reaper stepped forward, voice echoing:
"LIAM KESSLER. ILLEGAL CONTRACT DETECTED. SURRENDER OR FACE RAPID SENESCENCE."
Another bolt fired. The wall behind them decayed into ash. Liam rolled out, grabbed a pipe from under the couch — an old resistance bar wrapped with anti-tracker cloth — and hurled it at the drone's scanner.
The drone ducked. But the impact shattered its shoulder plating.
"Eva, move!" he barked.
She crawled toward the stairwell, coughing.
Liam reached into his coat, pulled out a modified medpatch, and slapped it onto his wrist. The Placebo Effect power pulsed. Nothing felt different. No surge of strength. No clarity. Just… hope.
That was all it needed.
He stood as the Reaper fired again. The bolt missed by inches.
He sprinted forward.
One step. Two.
The Reaper raised its arm — taser primed to age his nervous system twenty years in a second.
But Liam didn't stop.
He ducked. Slid under the arm. Slammed his elbow into its abdomen.
The Reaper glitched, systems lagging. "Anomaly… detected," it buzzed.
Liam grabbed a backup syringe from his belt — unmarked — and jammed it into the Reaper's lower core.
The bot staggered, lights flickering.
Then it collapsed.
Dead.
Eva peeked from the stairwell, mouth agape. "You just—killed it. That was a Reaper."
"They're not gods," Liam said, panting. "Just obedient corpses."
Suddenly—headlights flooded the stairwell.
A black car screeched to a stop at the front of the alley. Doors unlocked with a click. A voice shouted:
"Get in! I'm Contract #2!"
Liam grabbed Eva's hand and bolted down the steps, feet slamming concrete. The car door swung open.
They dove in just as drones swarmed overhead, scanning the ruin above.
The car peeled away from the alley like a bullet off rails. Tires squealed as it weaved through backstreets, narrowly avoiding an automated garbage rig, then sliced under a collapsing freeway bypass. Sirens blurred behind them, too slow, too late.
Inside the cabin, Liam's breathing slowed, but his nerves didn't.
Eva was curled in the corner seat, clutching her phone like a totem. Her face glowed in the reflection of her livestream screen. She was watching her own death on loop — the moment she flatlined, the moment she gasped back.
Over six million views and counting.
And the driver?
Contract #2?
She hadn't said a word yet.
Just kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her lap. Calm. Too calm.
She wore mirrored glasses, black lipstick, and a grey jumpsuit lined with copper seams. Tattoos flickered up her neck — animated ones, expensive tech, the kind only ex-military or blacksite hackers could afford.
Liam finally broke the silence.
"You said you're Contract Two," he said. "Prove it."
She chuckled. Didn't look back.
"You're welcome for the rescue."
He frowned. "That wasn't an answer."
She held up her left hand and tapped two fingers together. A holo-emblem projected over her palm: the No Die glyph, spinning in red and gold.
ACTIVE CONTRACTOR: 002 / 1,000,000
Power Tier: 1 — "Recoil Immunity"
Assigned Perk: Pain Delay / Neural Shield
Status: Live
Liam scanned it. It was authentic.
"You've already awakened a power," he muttered. "How?"
"I've had it longer than you," she said. "You're new. I'm not."
That gave him pause. How long had the system been live?
"How many contracts?"
She smirked. "Eight."
Eight? That meant she was two from Tier 2. Two from Bio-Lock Breach.
He didn't get to ask the next question. Because the car screeched to a sudden halt beneath an overpass lined with flickering old streetlights.
And then she turned the gun on him.
Liam froze.
Eva gasped behind him.
The driver cocked the sleek black weapon, a modified kinetic railpistol—something you'd never get unless you knew someone in the Ministry's grey markets.
"Relax," she said. "I'm not here to kill you."
She tilted her head. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be in a body bag with a Health Violation tag five minutes ago."
Liam didn't move. His eyes tracked her hands.
"Then why the gun?" he asked.
"Simple," she replied.
She smiled. No warmth. All teeth.
"I didn't save you…"
Click.
The pistol charged.
"I bought you."
NO DIE APP – SYSTEM ALERT
CONTRACTOR STATUS: TRANSFER REQUEST INCOMING
WARNING: CONTRACTOR 001 LINKED TO MULTIPLE BLACKLISTED ASSETS
PROTECTION LOCK: TEMPORARILY DISABLED
Eva leaned forward. "What does that mean?" she whispered.
"It means," Liam said slowly, "the system hasn't patched all the vulnerabilities yet."
Contract #2 narrowed her eyes. "You're not just a user. You wrote part of this."
"I wrote all of it," Liam said, jaw tight. "The app, the framework, the resurrection loop. The only thing I didn't design was the extraction clause—the Ministry added that when they took control."
"Oh," she grinned. "Then this is personal."
She pressed the gun barrel to his chest.
Liam's mind raced. He didn't have a weapon. The backup serum had fried the Reaper. Eva was still recovering. And his Placebo Power? It had no confirmed abilities… not yet.
But something was happening beneath his skin. A faint warmth. Like his body was expecting pain—and ready to lie to itself about it.
He banked on the only weapon he had left: bluffing.
"Shoot me, and the system collapses," he said flatly.
The driver froze. "You're bluffing."
"You sure?" Liam stared directly into her eyes. "You really want to bet your Tier 2 upgrade on my death?"
Her finger hesitated.
He moved.
Not to attack—just a shift. Deliberate. A tiny lean forward.
And it worked.
She flinched.
He grabbed her wrist. The gun went off — the railpistol firing into the dash. Sparks exploded across the cabin.
The car swerved violently.
Eva screamed as they spun out. Tires burned rubber across the concrete.
Liam headbutted the driver, hard. She screamed, dropped the gun. He caught it mid-air and shoved her back against the seat.
Breathing hard. Blood in his mouth. Gun in his hand now.
His hands trembled.
But he didn't pull the trigger.
Silence returned.
The car idled beneath a rusted overpass, smoke leaking from the dash. Drones passed overhead in the distance but didn't slow.
Contract #2 coughed and wiped blood from her lip. She grinned at him again.
"You're not like the others," she said, breathless. "Most contractors don't fight back."
Liam didn't answer. He opened the door.
Eva followed him out.
The driver leaned over the seat, watching them go. "Careful out there," she called. "The Ministry wants you now. But worse—so does the system."
Liam stared back at her one last time. "Tell the system this," he said coldly. "I'm not building a user base."
He turned, walking away down the alley with Eva in tow.
"I'm building a revolution."