The double doors hissed open.
Warm air brushed Phantom's face as he stepped into Aspen Technology's central atrium. A soft, sterile scent—filtered air, synthetic flowers, and something faintly metallic—floated beneath the marble-glass silence.
A tall man in a pristine silver suit approached with a rehearsed smile.
"Welcome to Aspen," the guide said smoothly. His ID tag read: Cale. L1 Internal Coordinator. "You must be… Mr. Veyren, correct?"
Phantom gave a nod. No voice. Just the smile of someone polite enough to be forgettable.
"Excellent. Right on time." Cale turned, gesturing with one hand. "Let me give you a brief tour before your interview."
The atrium stretched like a cathedral carved by AI—vaulted ceilings, living metal vines flowing along walls pulsing with soft golden light, and zero noise. Not even footsteps echoed.
(Internal)They designed this place like a neural network. Every hallway, a synapse. Every door, a firewall. And every smile? A line of code designed to distract.
As they walked, Cale pointed out highlights like a salesman selling paradise.
"These are our Hall Gardens—oxygen-optimized biomes maintained by carbon-negative tech. Beyond that, Level 2: Adaptive Research. Energy cells, enhancement studies, Prism experiments… standard internal classification, of course."
Phantom nodded slowly.
A glass elevator whooshed them up. Through the transparent wall, the inner core of Aspen HQ came into view: floors wrapped around a hollow vertical cylinder, like a cybernetic spinal column reaching skyward.
Each level had its own color spectrum. Security drones floated between sections, barely noticeable, like guardian spirits of a digital temple.
(Internal)Everything is polished to appear safe. Modern. Ethical. But beneath the glass? Gears grinding blood into numbers.
Cale spoke again. "You know, not everyone makes it this far into the tower. Most applicants are vetted externally."
"I got lucky," Phantom replied smoothly, voice calm, barely above conversational warmth.
Cale smiled, tapping his ID on a scanner as the elevator stopped at Level 5 – Systems Design.
"And maybe," Cale said, stepping out first, "you're just the kind of candidate Aspen is looking for."
The hallway here was dimmer. No windows. White panels along the walls glowed faintly like veins in a sleeping beast.
At the end of the corridor stood a sleek, opaque door with a blue circle pulsing softly at its center.
"Interview Room Theta. They'll be with you shortly." Cale bowed lightly. "Good luck, Mr. Veyren."
Phantom gave a soft "Thank you," and stepped inside.
Door closes. Silence.
(Internal)And now… the real game begins.
Interior – Interview Room Theta
The door sealed shut behind him.
Inside, the room looked ordinary enough—sleek metallic walls, ambient lighting, a central holo-screen. Three individuals sat across the transparent desk, dressed in sharp executive wear with Aspen's insignia pulsing faintly on their collars.
(Internal)Clean. Controlled. Clinical.But the silence… it's too smooth. Like a trap polished to look like a welcome mat.
Phantom took his seat, posture perfect, expression unreadable.
"Mr. Veyren," the middle interviewer began, voice silk-smooth, eyes flicking across a digital dossier. "You've shown remarkable analytical dexterity. Let's begin."
The questions came fast—coded architecture, algorithm compression, bio-digital sync theory, real-time decryption simulations.
Phantom answered each one calmly. Not perfectly. But convincingly—just enough to be talented, but not threatening.
(Internal)They're not testing knowledge.They're probing identity.
He noticed the way their voices layered. The subtle fluctuations in pitch. The timing of their blinks.
(System Notification: Hidden Mental Interference Detected)(Activating… [Karmic Eyes] Lv.1)
For a split second, the world fractured.
The illusion peeled.
The three interviewers now glowed—not with light, but with filth.
Rivers of red lust, coils of yellow envy, a deep sludge of greed leaking from their auras like corrupted incense. Their eyes were hollow—like masks stretched over decaying souls, smiling not out of warmth… but hunger.
(Internal)This room isn't an interview booth. It's a feeding chamber.They want to overwrite me.No—reshape me.
The air suddenly felt… thick. Not warm, not cold—just wrong.
The interviewer on the left leaned forward.
"Mr. Veyren, if I may ask… would you say you're loyal to power, or purpose?"
The moment the question dropped, Phantom's mental resistance surged.
The walls pulsed faintly—hypnotic patterns spiraling outward. Hidden neuro-patterns etched in sound and light.
(System Alert: Brainwave Manipulation Attempted – BLOCKED)(Karmic Eyes Insight Triggered – [Depravity Level: 72%])(Mental Contamination Level in Room: HIGH)
(Internal)This isn't just corruption.This entire floor is a spiritual septic tank.
He smiled politely.
"I'm loyal to truth," Phantom replied.
And something cracked behind their smiles.
Scene Cut: Hallway – Minutes Later
Phantom exited the room calmly. The guide, Cale, was already waiting.
"That was… fast," Cale commented, clearly surprised.
"Efficient," Phantom replied, slipping back into the mask.
As they walked, his earpiece buzzed.
Glitch (Whispering):"Bro… what the hell is this place?"
Phantom didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned the hallways again—and now that the Karmic Eyes were active… it was everywhere.
Employees smiling, but leaking dark fogs of envy, sloth, wrath… Eyes dilated just slightly. A receptionist's hand trembled—withdrawal from something. Engineers mumbling to themselves, not code… but compulsions.
It wasn't a company.
It was a temple of sin dressed as a tech paradise.
(Internal)They're not working.They're worshipping. Feeding. Dying inside slowly—and they don't even realize it.
He tapped the edge of his glasses.
"Glitch," he said quietly. "Keep scanning for psychic distortions. The architecture's encoded to manipulate thought patterns."
Glitch:"So they really tried to brainwash you?"
Phantom: "They didn't try. They failed."
"Excuse me," Phantom said politely, voice steady, calm. "Where's the restroom?"
Cale blinked. "Oh, uh—just down that corridor. Right side."
Phantom smiled faintly. "Appreciate it."
He turned, walking at a casual pace. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just… natural.
(Internal)Blend in.Let the building trust you before you betray it.
As he walked, a small shimmer rippled across the edge of his vision. Glitch materialized in his AR view, perched sideways like he was hanging off a floating pane of glass.
Glitch (grinning):"Here we go, baby. Showtime.""One wrong step and boom—full lockdown, ankle-deep in laser turrets and regret."
Phantom didn't respond. Just turned a corner… and slipped through a side door.
Instant silence.
The walls here weren't white and clean like the outer floor. They were gunmetal. Coated with stealth matte. Lights dimmer. Every vent, camera, panel… disguised.
Restricted zone.
(Internal)This area isn't on the employee map.Which means it's important.Which means I need to see it.
Footsteps.
Phantom froze mid-step.
From around the bend—a lone technician. Young. Head down. Holding a clipboard.
He looked up.
Eyes met.
Time fractured for a second.
Glitch (panicking):"Oh no no no—bro—abort, ABORT—"
Phantom was already moving.
Smooth. Calm. Like a man greeting an old friend.
"Hey!" he called out with fake warmth. "Long time!"
Before the tech could even blink, Phantom closed the gap and hugged him.
The technician stiffened. "Uh—do I—?"
Phantom whispered gently into his ear.
"Take a walk outside."
The words weren't just speech.
They were commands, laced with psychic distortion—amplified by the Karmic System. One touch, one whisper, one push.
At the same time, Phantom spun him, a half-turn dance-like twist.
And when the spin ended…
They had swapped clothes.
The technician's eyes glazed for a moment. Then cleared. He nodded dumbly, adjusted his coat… and walked away.
Out. Towards the main exit.
Glitch (jaw dropped):"WHAT DID I JUST WITNESS?!""You spun him like a fidget spinner and now you're him?! You wizard-ass smooth criminal—""DID YOU JUST HIT HIM WITH A HUG OF MIND-CONTROL?!"
Phantom, now in an Aspen intern's uniform with a new badge synced to his fake ID, began walking deeper into the restricted hallway.
Phantom (cool and low):"He'll forget me in three minutes.""And in five… he won't even remember he worked here."
Glitch (half-laughing, half-shook):"My guy turned memory wipe into interpretive dance. Give this man an Oscar. And a restraining order."
(Internal)One hallway down.Time to find the rot beneath the skin.
He descended a flight of hidden stairs marked "AUTHORIZED ONLY."Each step felt heavier.Colder.The walls breathed—not literally, but they pulsed, as if the structure itself had a heartbeat.
At the bottom… a door.
Old. Rusted.Completely out of place in a facility this pristine.
(Internal)This… isn't Aspen tech.This is something older.Something… wrong.
A foul wind leaked from the edges, carrying a scent that didn't belong in the world of wires and code.
Decay.
Blood.
Sin.
Phantom reached for the handle.
(Internal)Behind this door... is the part of Aspen they bury under lies.
He opened it.
And the darkness smiled back.