Smoke still lingered over the broken skyline of New Chicago, drifting like phantom trails across a crimson sunrise. Though the dungeon had collapsed beneath the earth, its aftershocks rippled far wider. What James didn't realize was that the world had seen him.
Surveillance drones. Satellite pings. Motion-triggered optics mounted on rotting rooftops.
Someone had been watching.
And someone had survived.
Three miles east of the crater, hidden in the cracked skeleton of an old museum, a pair of scavenger-class survivors huddled beneath thermal blankets. Their names were Mara and Lin. Not fighters. Not Class users. Just watchers.
They had seen the column of red light arc into the clouds—the beam fired from James's chest.
Mara muttered, "No one's gonna believe us."
Lin held up her scavenged datapad, trembling. The footage was grainy but clear. A lone figure—half-metallic, shoulders glowing, chest erupting in light.
"They will now."
Elsewhere, military frequency COMS buzzed to life.
ALERT: CODE 8.4.3. CYBERNETIC OUTLIER DETECTED. Source: Seismic / Heat Signature Location: Zone 17 Collapse Site Classification: Unknown (Presumed Rogue Class)
A figure in a white coat leaned back from a console in a hidden operations facility.
"He survived it."
Beside him, a man in dark armor activated a map overlay. "Then he's not just another Class user. We tag him. We track him. If he's gone fully hybrid, we may not be able to control him."
James didn't know about any of this. Not yet.
He woke inside the depot, stirred by a sharp ache in his chest. Not pain. Pressure. He looked down.
The metal had spread overnight.
Across his collarbones. Down to his sternum. His spine felt strange, denser. Something under the skin had locked into place along his back.
His interface was already updating:
CYBERNETIC CONVERSION: 34% WARNING: Conversion Ratio Exceeding Safe Threshold (30%) EFFECTS: Enhanced Durability / Neural Sync / Passive Core Cooling
He winced. "No going back now, huh."
And then another notice blinked into his vision:
CIVILIAN FOOTAGE DETECTED (MATCH: CORE LASER ACTIVATION) PUBLIC RUMOR STATUS: ESCALATING NICKNAME ACQUIRED: THE IRON GHOST
James blinked. He reread the last line.
"Great," he muttered. "Just what I needed."
The name spread fast.
Across survivor forums. Military chatter. Pirate radio.
Iron Ghost spotted near Zone 17.
He walked through fire like nothing touched him.
Chest glowed like a reactor. I saw it melt a tank.
Some feared him. Others wanted to follow him. And a few saw a target.
Late morning.
James scouted from the depot rooftop, scanning the streets. Nothing moved.
But then his sensors caught something. Faint. Deliberate.
A drone.
It hovered just above the rooftops to the west. Military-grade. Black, silent, fast.
His eye locked on.
HUNTER-CLASS DRONE DETECTED SCAN MODE: ACTIVE
"They know."
He fired a quick chest-beam burst—a flicker, not full power. The drone shattered mid-air.
But it was too late. Someone had made contact.
He packed his gear fast.
The depot was compromised. He needed somewhere less obvious. Somewhere off-grid. For now, that meant underground.
But as he moved, something else caught his attention.
A message blinked on the bottom of his interface:
INTERNAL SIGNAL INCOMING SOURCE: CORE MODULE
He froze.
Accepted.
A voice echoed in his mind—not human. Metallic, resonant. Yet somehow familiar.
"Integration at 34%… Synchronization holding. Stabilization confirmed. Host parameters viable."
James stood still. "What the hell…?"
The voice pulsed again.
"You are changing, James. The Core accepts you. You were chosen. Not by chance. By compatibility. The more you evolve, the clearer the signal becomes."
"You're inside me... aren't you?"
"Affirmative. The Core is part of your neural matrix. We grow as one. Further evolution awaits."
James felt a chill. Not fear. Realization.
This wasn't just a tool. The core had consciousness. Or at least some version of it. Maybe not human—but it could think. Respond. Guide.
And if it could talk to him... could it override him?
He clenched his fists.
Not yet. Not now.
He needed more information.
He exhaled, steadying his thoughts.
MESSAGE ENDED
James looked to the east. Smoke trails drifted from the old corporate district. Something new stirred in the background—change, escalation.
And the Iron Ghost was no longer just rumor.
He was a signal.