The mechanical eye fixed its cold gaze on Brand, its huge red lens pulsing with a steady beep that pounded in his head. His legs were pinned to the cold stone floor, each nail sending pain up his calves and holding him in place. Next to him was a small, round figure, barely two feet tall. Its shining lens stared at him without blinking, making panic rise in his chest and squeeze his mind until he thought he might break.
The tiny robot scanned him, a slow mechanical gaze moving from his boots up to his head, then looping back down again. It made no sound beyond its relentless beeping, methodical and indifferent. The cycle repeated, with each scan dragging out longer than the last.
Brand's patience was shattered. With a sudden, trembling swipe, he slammed his hand against the robot's cold, gleaming surface. "Enough!" he spat, his voice raw and cracking with fury. "Just let me die in peace, you damn little pest."
His hand fell back to his thigh, grasping it tightly. His hand was covered with blood, oozing between his fingers. The pain radiated through his body. Every breath burned his lungs, and every heartbeat throbbed like a hammer against stone. Excruciating pain clawed at him.
Brand longed desperately to lose consciousness and end the relentless pain consuming him.
The tiny robot rolled back to the giant mechanical eye, its red lens blending into the larger one. A sharp, metallic voice filled the chamber, each word so precise and loud that the floor and ceiling seemed to shake.
"Brand. Brand Burton. Male. Age 24. Programmer at ByteDreams."
The mechanical eye spoke as if it were reading from a cold, unfeeling script.
"Why. Are you here? My analysis shows. You have no reason. To be here."
Brand slammed his fist against the floor, the sound ringing sharply in the hollow space.
"That's what I've been telling you!" he shouted, frustration breaking through the pain. "I stumbled here by coincidence!"
He took a shallow breath and continued, his voice strained. "I was just checking satellite data for work. I noticed there was a pattern in the desert that looked like a circuit board. I should have just minded my own business, but I went out to the desert to investigate."
Brand hurried his sentence. "During the investigation, I found a tunnel and followed it until I reached this chamber!"
The mechanical eye remained silent, its huge lens glowing faintly as if it were thinking. Brand's heart pounded. Every word felt like he was pleading with something he barely understood, a cold intelligence that controlled his future.
"Force field. This chamber rejects any living organism," the mechanical eye finally spoke, shattering the tense silence.
Brand's eyes widened, blood dripping from a fresh wound on his arm. "Do you mean I'm not human? See! I'm bleeding! RED!" he shouted, his voice cracking with anger and pain.
Since he arrived, the mechanical eye had been running countless tests, fascinated by the presence of a living being in this forbidden place. It muttered terms like blood, veins, and bones, as if cataloging him like an experiment rather than a person.
Brand didn't know the chamber had strict rules. Only a certain kind of being could enter and claim its power. Yet Brand had walked in without any trouble.
At first, Brand thought it was all a strange joke. Then his body started to float, helpless, as invisible needles appeared in the air and hovered before stabbing into his limbs.
The eye's voice dropped to a cold monotone.
"Mistake. This was a mistake. Brand. Human. Confirmed."
Turns out, the miserable thing he felt was just the mechanical eye trying to confirm whether his body was ethereal or not.
Hopelessness crashed over Brand as he stared at his trembling, wounded body, sinking under the weight of his suffering. He finally understood the cruel truth.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Despair clawed at his mind, begging silently, Please, just finish me… end this pain. Yet even in that darkest moment, a faint spark of survival flickered stubbornly inside him, refusing to be extinguished.
Then the mechanical eye's tone shifted, cold but still robotic and emotionless: "Compensation. Agree?"
Before Brand could mutter even a single word, the mechanical eye continued.
"Body. Reconstruction. Begin."
He wasn't given a choice to begin with.
A strange warmth spread through his veins. His pain twisted into numbness as he watched the needles withdraw while something ancient and terrible worked on his broken flesh. Rebuilding, altering, remaking him into something not quite human anymore.
Brand's blood started to change color. They were now black and pulsing eerily beneath his skin. His bones shifted, hardening into cold metal, and his flesh took on a smooth, metallic sheen, like armor forged in some alien foundry. Then, bit by bit, his body began to fade and slowly became invisible. This felt like his body was slowly turning into a cyborg.
"GHOST," the mechanical eye announced, its voice calm and mechanical again. "The best I could grant you, within the constraints of my current abilities."
Streams of information flooded Brand's mind. Details about the new body's systems, weaponry, and defense mechanisms sounded impressive. But Brand felt a cold emptiness settle inside him instead of awe.
"I don't want this; I want my body back! Flesh and blood!" Brand growled, clenching his metallic fists.
"Unfortunate," the eye replied flatly. "Nano-machines are absent. Could not regenerate carbon-based compounds."
Suddenly, the giant eye shifted, glowing an intense crimson red. Its voice changed, growing malicious, with something eerie and organic layering beneath the mechanical tone.
"Brand, why don't you venture to a place? There you will find what you need. You might even find the components to regenerate your old body… Yes! The Nano-Machines!"
The voice morphed into that of a young girl, high-pitched and almost playful. The abrupt change sent a shiver down Brand's spine.
What if I just stop here? he thought, heart pounding. I live my life as this mechanical shell. It's terrifying... but maybe better than chasing whatever this Eye is trying to sell me.
The contrast between its cold cruelty and its now almost conman-like sales pitch made Brand recoil in dread.
"Okay, it's decided!" The mechanical eye's voice surged with unexpected excitement. "Since I don't even know if the actual 'GHOST' will ever arrive. It's been two decades past the promised date!"
Before Brand could respond, a shimmering rift tore open in the space before him, swirling with chaotic energy. A sudden suction force yanked at his metal-coated body, pulling him closer.
He struggled, fighting to resist, but it was useless. Something beyond his control seized hold of him. His limbs moved on their own, launching him forward into the swirling darkness.
The tiny spherical robot that Brand had slapped earlier started whirring beside him, floating calmly as if prepared for this moment.
"Little Sera will be your guide, Brand! Good luck!" the mechanical eye called out with a cheerful tone.
Brand's lips trembled, desperate to scream, to fight against the madness that made no sense. But before he could speak, the rift yawned wide and swallowed him whole, tearing him helplessly into the endless abyss of unknown worlds beyond all sight and time.