The first rule of survival in Greyhaven City:
Never owe what you cannot repay.
Ethan Vale learned that at seventeen.
By twenty-one, he understood something worse—
Some debts are designed so you cannot repay them.
---
The rain fell like static noise against the apartment window. Not romantic. Not dramatic. Just persistent.
Ethan sat at his desk, staring at the red numbers on his laptop screen.
Outstanding balance: ₹4,82,000
Medical bills.
His father's case.
Legal fees after the "accidental corporate defamation" lawsuit.
The corporation had a name people whispered but never fought—
Helix Dynamics.
They didn't send threats.
They sent paperwork.
---
Ethan closed the laptop.
Panic was inefficient.
He opened a notebook instead.
Page title:
Current Position
Money: Insufficient
Allies: None
Enemies: Corporate-scale
Leverage: Unknown
He tapped his pen against the margin.
There was always leverage.
You just hadn't identified it yet.
---
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He didn't answer.
He waited.
If it mattered, they would call again.
They did.
He answered on the third ring.
"Mr. Vale," a calm female voice said. "Your repayment deadline is approaching."
"I'm aware."
"We hope you understand the legal consequences of non-compliance."
"I do."
Silence lingered. She expected desperation.
He gave her none.
"Have a pleasant evening," he said first—and hung up.
Control small conversations. Train people to react to you.
---
At 2:13 AM, the power went out.
Not the entire building.
Just his apartment.
He didn't move immediately.
Blackouts could be coincidence.
Or a test.
Three seconds passed.
A notification sound echoed through the darkness.
Not from his phone.
From his laptop.
Which had been shut down.
Interesting.
He stood slowly.
Walked to the desk.
The screen glowed.
White background.
Black text.
No logos.
No branding.
Just a single line:
>[Debt System Activated]
He didn't touch the keyboard.
The next line appeared.
>[Subject identified: Ethan Vale
Financial instability confirmed
Psychological profile: High inhibition / Strategic cognition
Compatibility: Approved]
He exhaled through his nose.
Hallucination?
Unlikely. Too structured.
Malware?
Possibly.
But malware doesn't profile personality traits in real-time without data access.
"Define parameters," he said aloud.
The screen responded.
>[This system provides temporary assets in exchange for structured repayment tasks.
Assets are borrowed. Not owned.
Failure to repay results in asset reclamation.]
"Asset reclamation," he repeated quietly. "Specify."
>[Biological, cognitive, or circumstantial equivalents.]
He didn't react.
Inside, his pulse increased slightly.
Not fear.
Interest.
"Demonstration."
A pause.
Then:
>[Borrow: +20 Cognitive Processing
Duration: 10 minutes
Cost: One completed evaluation task
Accept?]
He considered the framing.
Low duration. Low cost. Trial hook.
The system was selling confidence.
"Accept."
Heat spread behind his eyes.
The world didn't slow down—
It clarified.
Connections sharpened.
His unpaid bills? Negotiable through structured bankruptcy redirection.
Helix Dynamics? Vulnerable through minority shareholder activism.
The lawsuit timeline? Procedural flaws in filing sequence.
His breathing steadied.
Not emotion.
Calculation.
"Evaluation task?" he asked.
>[Identify three exploitable weaknesses in Helix Dynamics' regional operations within ten minutes.]
A smile almost formed.
So it wanted measurable output.
Good.
He opened his father's archived files.
Cross-referenced recent news.
Pulled public financial disclosures.
Within six minutes, he spoke:
"One. Over-reliance on automated compliance AI—human oversight minimal."
"Two. Public ESG ratings artificially inflated—traceable discrepancies."
"Three. Security contracts outsourced to third-party firms with prior misconduct records."
Silence.
Then:
>[Task completed.
Debt registered: 1 Strategic Evaluation.]
The heat vanished.
His thoughts returned to baseline.
Slower.
Normal.
Interesting.
"So the repayment isn't physical labor," he murmured. "It's directed impact."
[Correct].
"Who benefits from the impact?"
>[System equilibrium.]
"Define equilibrium."
>[Sustained instability within controlled thresholds.]
He leaned back.
There it was.
The system thrived on imbalance.
Destabilize—but not collapse.
Feed—but not destroy the host environment.
"So you profit from chaos," he said softly.
No response.
Silence was also data.
---
He stood and walked to the window.
Greyhaven's skyline flickered under distant lightning.
Helix Dynamics' tower glowed cold and white across the river.
A corporation built on risk management.
Insurance.
Data.
Prediction.
And now—
He had something that predicted outcomes.
He returned to the desk.
Opened the notebook again.
New page.
Unknown System — Initial Observations
Provides temporary enhancement
Requests strategic actions
Thrives on controlled instability
Avoids direct answers regarding motive
He underlined one sentence:
System requires user competence to function efficiently.
Meaning—
It could not act alone.
It needed intermediaries.
Operators.
Assets.
Like him.
He looked at the screen.
"What happens if I fail repayment?"
[Asset reclamation]
"Demonstrate."
A pause longer than before.
> [Warning: Demonstration may cause permanent damage.]
He nodded slowly.
Good.
Fear was real.
Which meant consequences were real.
Which meant it wasn't a hallucination.
He didn't test it.
Not yet.
---
Instead, he asked:
"What is the smallest possible borrow unit?"
> [+5 Pattern Recognition
Duration: 30 minutes
Cost: Initiate a destabilizing micro-event within 24 hours.]
Now that was interesting.
Micro-event.
Vague.
Flexible.
He smiled faintly.
"Accept."
The clarity returned—lighter this time.
He opened a social media dashboard.
Logged into an anonymous account.
Composed a thread exposing minor inconsistencies in Helix's ESG reporting.
Not an accusation.
Just questions.
Tagged financial journalists.
Scheduled automated reposts.
Then—
He emailed a mid-level compliance officer anonymously:
"Have you reviewed Q3 sustainability adjustments? Looks risky."
He leaned back.
No lies.
No hacking.
Just pressure.
Small cracks widen under scrutiny.
>[Micro-event initiated.Micro-event initiated.
Repayment pending outcome.]
He checked the time.
2:47 AM.
Efficient.
---
He closed the laptop manually.
The power returned immediately.
Of course it did.
He didn't smile this time.
He simply wrote in his notebook:
Rule 1: Never borrow without exit strategy.
Then beneath it—
Rule 2: Increase leverage faster than debt.
If the system wanted instability—
He would choose where it appeared.
If it fed on chaos—
He would regulate its diet.
If it believed he was a user—
It had miscalculated.
He wasn't borrowing power to survive.
He was auditing the lender.
Across the river, Helix Dynamics' tower lights flickered briefly—
Just once.
Like a glitch.
Ethan noticed.
He always noticed.
And somewhere deep in invisible architecture, something recalculated his threat level.
---
>[ User Ethan Vale
Risk Assessment: Updating…
Surveillance Tier: 1 Activated]
The game had started.
Ethan closed his notebook.
"Let's see," he whispered into the quiet apartment.
"Who owes who."
---
End of Chapter 1