Kai slept for exactly forty-three minutes.
He knew because the interface told him.
REST EFFICIENCY: POORRECOVERY: PARTIAL
The alert pulsed softly at the edge of his vision as he stared at the ceiling, heart still running faster than it should. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt metal scraping stone. Heard the wet sound of claws. Saw the second mouth opening where a throat shouldn't have been.
He sat up.
Enough.
If he kept lying there, his mind would spiral—and spirals got people killed.
Kai swung his legs over the bed and stood. His body protested, but it was different from before. Less damage, more feedback. Like pain had turned into information.
He rolled his shoulder. The stiffness eased quicker than it should have.
"Don't get used to this," he muttered to himself.
The interface didn't argue.
District 9 woke slowly.
By the time Kai stepped outside, the sun was already pushing through the smog layer, painting everything the same tired shade of gray. People shuffled toward work. Drones hummed overhead, scanning faces, tracking movements, filing lives into neat little boxes.
Kai kept his head down.
Still civilian.Still invisible.
For now.
He felt it again halfway to the warehouse—the pressure. Not behind him this time, but above. Like something was watching from a higher angle, patient and precise.
His skin prickled.
PREDATOR INSTINCT — ALERTOBSERVATION: INDIRECT
"Indirect how?" Kai whispered.
No answer.
That was new.
At the warehouse gate, the scanner blinked green and let him through. Inside, the noise swallowed him—forklifts whining, crates slamming, supervisors shouting schedules that never changed.
Normal.
Too normal.
Kai picked up his first crate and nearly dropped it.
It was lighter.
Not by much.
Enough to notice.
He froze, then lifted it again—slowly, carefully. The weight felt… cooperative. Like his muscles anticipated it instead of reacting after the fact.
"Hey," a voice snapped. "Don't daydream."
Kai turned. Supervisor Hale—permanent scowl, coffee-stained tablet.
"Sorry," Kai said automatically.
Hale grunted and moved on.
Kai exhaled.
Control it, he told himself. Don't stand out.
Standing out was how systems noticed you.
The first crack appeared at lunch.
They sat on stacked pallets, eating nutrient bars that all tasted the same. Someone had a feed running on a cracked tablet—academy highlights, ranked awakeners sparring under clean white lights.
Riven was on the screen.
Platinum-tier sparring demo. Clean movements. Perfect form.
Someone whistled. "Man, Sato's gonna be a monster."
Another laughed. "Already is."
Kai looked away.
That's when the tablet flickered.
Just for a second.
The image distorted, lines breaking into static. For a blink, Kai saw something else layered beneath the feed—numbers, patterns, unfamiliar symbols sliding across the screen like they didn't belong there.
Then it was gone.
No one else reacted.
Kai's pulse spiked.
WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLAP DETECTEDRECOMMENDATION: DISENGAGE
He stood so fast his pallet tipped.
"Bathroom," he muttered, already walking.
He locked himself into a stall and leaned against the wall, breathing through his nose.
"What does that mean?" he whispered. "Overlap with what?"
The interface hesitated.
That alone was answer enough.
CLARIFICATION: PUBLIC SYSTEMS ARE NOT DESIGNED TO REGISTER ASCENSION CORESRESULT: DATA BLEED MAY OCCUR
"Data bleed," Kai repeated.
So it wasn't just him hiding from the system anymore.
The system was starting to… notice gaps.
Hairline cracks.
By the end of the shift, Kai's head ached.
Too much information. Too many micro-adjustments his body wanted to make. Every instinct screamed at him to move differently, stand differently, be different.
He didn't.
He clocked out. Walked home. Blended in.
Only when his door shut behind him did he let his shoulders sag.
The interface unfolded.
DAILY SUMMARY:— CORE STABILITY: ACCEPTABLE— EXPOSURE RISK: LOW— OBSERVATION RISK: INCREASING
Kai rubbed his face.
"How long until 'low' becomes 'problem'?"
The screen pulsed.
ESTIMATE: UNKNOWNVARIABLES: HOST ACTIVITY / SYSTEM INTERVENTION
System intervention.
That phrase stuck.
Outside, a siren wailed briefly—far away, but sharp.
Kai moved to the window and looked out.
Down the street, two black vehicles idled. No markings. No lights. People walked past them without a second glance.
But Kai's skin crawled.
PREDATOR INSTINCT — ALERTTHREAT: PASSIVE
They weren't here for him.
Not yet.
But they were here for something.
Kai stepped back and let the curtain fall.
Tonight, he wouldn't go out.
Tonight, he would plan.
Because the Wild Zone wasn't the only place with monsters.
And the city?
The city was starting to crack.
[End of Chapter 7]