Chapter 3: Ghosts of Data
The light swallowed them whole.
For a moment, Kaito felt as though he was floating between two heartbeats — neither awake nor asleep, neither alive nor dead. The world stretched into an endless grid of shifting neon lines, warping and curling in impossible ways.
And then — he fell.
He crashed onto a platform made of shimmering code, gasping for air. Aya landed beside him with cat-like grace, her silver hair glowing faintly under the strange light.
All around them, the world was wrong.
The buildings were twisted versions of New Tokyo's skyline, but half-formed, like someone had dreamed them into being and abandoned the thought halfway through. Roads ended abruptly in midair. Doors floated, unattached to walls. Skyscrapers melted into rivers of symbols.
"This is the Inner Rift," Aya said quietly. "The space between reality and the digital ether. Only Riftborn can survive here."
Kaito pushed himself up, wide-eyed. "This... this is inside the city's network?"
Aya nodded. "And it's alive."
The ground beneath them shifted. From the broken horizon, figures began to emerge — humanoid shapes, flickering like corrupted files. They moved awkwardly, limbs snapping in and out of focus.
"Ghosts," Aya said. "Lost souls. Data echoes of people the corporations erased."
Kaito swallowed hard. The ghosts drifted closer, their faces blank, eyes empty sockets. They reached out, whispering in broken, static-laced voices.
Help... lost... remember me...
Pain... cold... forgotten...
A chill ran through Kaito. He stepped back instinctively, but Aya held firm.
"They won't hurt you — unless you fear them," she warned.
The ghosts brushed against Kaito, and for a brief, heart-wrenching second, he saw — a memory not his own.
A mother reaching for her child.
A young man begging for another chance.
A soldier falling in a forgotten war.
Tears burned at Kaito's eyes.
Aya gripped his shoulder. "You see it now. What they've done. What they'll keep doing unless we stop them."
Kaito clenched his fists.
"I won't let them."
A rumble shook the Rift. The ghosts scattered like smoke, and in their place, something far worse appeared: a Riftbeast — a creature born from corrupted data and hatred.
It towered above them, a shifting mass of jagged code and writhing tentacles, its "face" a mess of broken holographic images — flashes of screaming mouths, empty eyes, glitching skulls.
Aya drew her data-blade in one swift motion, the neon weapon humming to life.
"Kaito," she barked. "You need to wake up your power. Now!"
The Riftbeast roared, the sound bending the very code of the world around them.
Without thinking, Kaito raised his hands. His Shadowseed vibrated wildly against his chest, flooding his mind with possibilities.
In his vision, he saw a Riftline — a hidden seam in the creature's swirling mass.
Instinct took over.
He reached into the air — and pulled.
A blade of pure white data, unlike anything Aya had ever seen, formed in his hands.
The Riftbeast lunged.
Kaito dodged nimbly, then slashed upward. His blade met the creature's hide — and reality shattered. Cracks spread like spiderwebs across the beast's form, and with a final glitching wail, it exploded into a rain of broken pixels.
Panting, Kaito fell to his knees, the blade dissolving into mist.
Aya stared at him, wide-eyed.
"You... you just created a Riftshard. On your first try," she whispered, almost reverently. "Do you have any idea what that means?"
Kaito looked up at her, heart pounding.
"No," he said. "But I'm guessing it's important?"
Aya smiled — the first real smile he'd ever seen from her.
"It means," she said, offering her hand, "you're a lot more dangerous than they ever imagined."
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(End of Chapter 3)