Part One
Riverfall City wasn't the kind of place where miracles happened.
It was the kind of place where rent was late, elevators broke down, and neon signs buzzed like dying insects.
Rain poured down in steady sheets, turning the streets into smeared reflections of red and blue lights. Wen De stood outside a twenty-four-hour convenience store, staring at the coins in his palm.
Two dollars and thirty-six cents.
He let out a slow breath and pushed the door open again.
The old cashier glanced at him over a newspaper. "Change your mind?"
"Yeah," Wen De said, grabbing the cheapest instant noodles from the shelf. "Going gourmet tonight."
The cashier snorted. "Living large."
"Trying to."
The truth was less funny.
Three job applications this week. Two silent rejections. One polite email that began with We regret to inform you.
He stepped back into the rain, plastic bag crinkling in his hand. The air smelled like wet concrete and gasoline. A bus roared past too close to the curb, splashing cold water onto his jeans.
He didn't bother reacting.
By the time he reached his apartment building, he was soaked through.
Fourth floor. No elevator.
He climbed slowly, listening to his footsteps echo in the dim stairwell. When he reached his door, he stood there for a moment before unlocking it.
The apartment was small. One room. One narrow window overlooking the street. A desk cluttered with dismantled electronics sat in the corner, wires spilling over the edge like metallic vines.
Wen De dropped into the chair and opened his laptop.
The rejection email glowed against the dark screen.
He read the first line, then closed it.
"Guess I'm not what they're looking for."
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
Six months ago, he had been a third-year engineering student. Then his father collapsed at work. Hospital bills stacked faster than he could count. Dropping out had felt temporary at first.
Temporary had turned permanent.
Thunder rumbled outside.
He stood up and walked toward the rooftop access door at the end of the hall.
He didn't know why.
The air felt strange tonight.
He pushed the door open and stepped onto the narrow rooftop landing.
Rain fell steadily.
The city lights blurred below.
Then he noticed something odd.
The clouds weren't drifting.
They were rotating.
Slowly. Deliberately.
As if something massive was turning above them.
"That's new," he muttered.
Lightning split the sky—
And didn't disappear.
It stayed there.
Frozen.
A jagged white scar suspended across the night.
Wen De blinked.
The rain stopped midair.
Each droplet hung motionless around him like glass beads.
The distant traffic noise vanished.
No engines.
No wind.
No thunder.
Silence swallowed everything.
His heart pounded loudly in his ears.
"Okay," he whispered, "this isn't funny."
And then a voice spoke.
Inside his head.
Calm. Mechanical. Emotionless.
Origin System initializing.
Wen De stiffened.
"…What?"