The figure didn't move right away after it spoke.
But the space around it did.
The air got denser. The light felt thinner.
Not darker, just weaker, like the world was starting to dim around the edges.
Elijah stood frozen.
The figure shifted forward, just slightly.
Elijah stepped back. It wasn't a choice, just instinct. A jolt in the spine. Something telling him that this is not something you stand near.
The thing paused.
"You're reacting poorly," it said. Not insulted. Not surprised."
Its featureless head tilted slightly, as if to get a better read. Then the voice returned.
"Perhaps this form is counterproductive."
Its shape flickered.
The robes folded inward, compressed. The smoke curled like burned film. And then it began to morph.
Smaller.
Rounder.
Paler.
And then Elijah was staring at a small girl, maybe ten years old, with glowing white eyes and long silver hair, wearing an ornate black dress with ribbons that fluttered even though the air was still.
She curtsied, hands clasped neatly in front of her.
"Greetings, master," she said in a syrupy-sweet voice. "Is this more to your liking?"
Elijah made a noise that wasn't a word, more of a choked bird shriek.
"What—what the hell is this?!"
The girl tilted her head innocently. "My research indicates human males respond more calmly to avatars presented in a non-threatening, visually pleasing feminine form."
"I'm not—! That's not—!" He took two big steps back, nearly tripping over his mattress. "Why are you a child?! What are you even saying right now?!"
She blinked. "This form was chosen to optimize emotional compliance."
"It's freaking me out!"
The smile remained unchanged. "Noted. Recalculating."
She disintegrated on the spot — dress, ribbons, skin — crumbling into thin white ash that never hit the floor. In the same moment, a new shape assembled from the smoke:
Now, a tall, immaculately dressed man in a sharp black suit, with a relaxed smirk and eyes that gleamed gold.
"I can be anything," the voice said. "Would you prefer something charming? Authoritative? Masculine, but attainable?"
"No!" Elijah barked. "No versions of anything! I don't want a hot anime girl or a discount Bond villain! Just stop changing shapes like it's a fashion show!"
The man frowned.
Then sighed. Loudly. Theatrically.
"You mortals are exhausting."
The suit folded in on itself. The gold eyes faded. The frame shrank again, but not all the way. This time, the smoke pulled in slower, more carefully, until what remained was a much smaller, softer form, no sharp jawline, no exposed skin, no excess glamour.
A hooded figure. Robes were too big for their frame. Pale, unreadable eyes behind a drape of silver hair. Not male. Not female. Just… there.
It sat at the edge of Elijah's mattress.
Didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just waited.
Elijah stayed standing, hands slightly raised, like he still wasn't sure if this was a threat or a trick or both. But the longer nothing happened, the more the tension in his shoulders began to slip.
He let out a shaky breath. Dropped onto the edge of the bed, not too close, and ran a hand down his face.
"I'm losing my mind."
"No," the voice said, softer now. "Your mind is simply catching up."
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then the system added, "Again, as I said, you're handling this better than most humans would."
Elijah gave a weak laugh. "Great. Put that on a sticker."
The system blinked — a slow, unsettlingly fluid motion.
Then it raised one delicate hand, and in the air between them, the previous system window reappeared.
"USER STATUS"
Name: Elijah Knox
Soul Status: Contracted
Active Trait: Spirit Sight [LVL 1]
Task System: Inactive
Soul Decay: 0%
"This is you," the system said simply. "Spirit Sight is your first unlocked trait. You'll gain more — some passive, some not. Some are given. Some are earned."
"How do I earn them?" Elijah asked, eyes flicking to the locked slot.
"You will be assigned tasks," it said. "Fulfilling them… properly… is the only way forward."
Elijah's eyes narrowed.
"You mean like a job?"
"I mean like a contract," it replied. "But yes, like a job. Just… with higher stakes."
Elijah sat back, exhaling through his nose. "And if I don't do the work?"
The system smiled — and somehow, it still wasn't comforting.
"Then you start to disappear."
Elijah stared at the system window in the air.
He didn't know how to feel about it. There it was, his "status", like he'd accidentally downloaded an RPG UI onto reality. Soul Status: Contracted. Great. Normal stuff.
He rubbed at his eyes. "So I'm really stuck with this?"
The avatar shifted slightly, the oversized sleeves of its robe sliding quietly across its lap.
"Yes," it said. "You agreed."
"I joked," he shot back. "I didn't mean it. I was tired. I said a stupid thing to the universe, not-"
"You offered your soul for change," it interrupted. "The intent behind a deal matters less than the result. You received what you asked for. In full."
Elijah opened his mouth. Closed it. Exhaled slowly through his teeth.
"So… what now?"
The system lifted its hand. Another window appeared, though this one was grayed out.
"TASK SYSTEM" — Currently Inactive
Tasks will be assigned in accordance with spiritual density, user location, and contract depth. Rewards are scaled based on task rank, efficiency, and soul resonance.
System Activation Progress: 23%
"Tasks will appear here," the avatar said. "They are not random. They are tied to you. To the weight of unresolved things around you. When the system completes its full activation integration… the work will begin."
"You make it sound like I'm gonna be ghost-hunting," Elijah muttered.
"Sometimes."
The avatar didn't elaborate.
Elijah squinted at the window. "What do you mean by 'contract depth'?"
"Your commitment," it replied. "Over time, you may deepen the contract. Unlock more functions. Increase your limits. The system grows with you. If you last."
That last part wasn't said like a threat. Just a fact. Cold. Distant.
Elijah gave a dry laugh. "Right. If I don't get spiritually mugged by whatever's out there."
"You'll be given what you need," the system said. "Each successful task rewards items, abilities, or traits. All useful. All tailored to your contract level."
He stared at the floating windows for a long beat.
Then something in his expression shifted. Not happy. Not even calm. Just… slightly less horrified.
"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "I help ghosts or spirits or whatever, and in return, I get loot? Power-ups? Skills?"
The avatar said nothing. Just tilted its head in a slow nod.
"That's… honestly kind of sick."
A pause.
Then, Elijah ran a hand through his hair and gave a short, humorless laugh. "God, I've watched so much anime. This is basically one of those weirdo afterlife systems from,what was it, Contract Hunter: Soulbound? Or that dumb one with the vending machine guy."
The avatar blinked. "I have access to over twelve thousand human entertainment titles. That one is not in the top percentile."
Elijah snorted. "You're seriously ranking anime now?"
"I rank everything."
He shook his head, rubbing his palms over his jeans. "Okay. I still feel like I'm hallucinating, but fine. I'll play along. For now."
Then he looked toward the dark corners of his apartment and squinted.
"Can I… turn the lights back on?"
The avatar didn't move.
"That wasn't me," it said.
Elijah blinked. "What?"
"The blackout. It wasn't system interference. You simply haven't paid your electric bill in three weeks."
There was a long pause.
Then, softly:
"...oh."
The system didn't laugh. But Elijah swore he could feel it smirking.