[You have finished your first Walk.]
A mechanical chime echoed through Vikram's mind like the tolling of a divine bell. Then—darkness lifted.
His eyes fluttered open, only to be met by the distorted shimmer of liquid. He was floating—suspended inside a pod filled with pale blue fluid. An oxygen mask clung tightly to his face. His breath quickened. Panic struck. Was this some kind of twisted experiment? Was he... back in the Blood Desert?
A massive shadow moved outside the glass.
A man—no, a mountain of muscle shaped like a man—stood calmly before him. His hand lifted slowly, gesturing for Vikram to relax. His face held a smile so stiff and forced, it looked like it had been stapled on.
Vikram did not relax.
With a few taps on the control panel, the fluid around him began to drain rapidly. Vikram's body sank, his feet finding solid ground for the first time in what felt like forever. A hiss escaped the pod as the oxygen mask detached, and the pod doors peeled open like a blooming steel flower.
"Congratulations, Walker Vikram," the man spoke, voice like thunder trapped in a box. "You have successfully integrated into the Mother System."
Blinking the blurriness from his eyes, Vikram's first thought wasn't Where am I? or What just happened? It was: Am I naked?
He looked down—tight, black sportswear hugged his body. At least that part was under control.
His eyes flicked up again, meeting the towering man's gaze with a storm of confusion. "Walker Vikram, follow me. My name is Brunus," the man introduced.
Brunus. The name suited him—solid, blunt, and unapologetic.
Vikram was led through pristine white corridors into a quiet room that pulsed with sterile serenity. There, the answers came.
The Earth Regime—gone. Wiped from existence, every trace erased as if it had never mattered. In its place, a new hegemon stood tall: the Mother System.
A galactic power.
A regime that operated on scales Vikram's mind could barely grasp. Planets under one AI's rule. Civilizations restructured. A central territory known as the Axis—and within it, a location that Vikram had already bled through:
The Blood Desert.
Not real. A preserved memory. A simulation.
No... a recording of the Genesis—the ancient beginnings of the Axis itself.
And at the heart of it all, ruling with perfect logic and endless reach, was not a human or a god, but an AI. The Mother System.
Brunus explained it all with the patience of a handler assigned to a defective unit. Still, the man's presence was anything but casual. The air around him shimmered faintly, as if reality itself bent in deference to his strength. Vikram had seen strength before—he had fought the demonic Hulk in that cursed desert—but this… this was different.
This was real.
"You've been assigned a new place to stay," Brunus said, tone flat but not unkind. "Your old apartment's already been cleared out and repurposed."
Vikram blinked. "Wait, what? I can't go back?"
Brunus gave him a sideways glance. "You won't go back."
There was a pause. Brunus folded his arms and leaned slightly closer.
"And listen carefully—whatever happened during your Awakening? You keep that to yourself. No sharing. No posting. Not even a whisper on the net."
Vikram opened his mouth, but Brunus cut him off.
"They're watching, Vikram. Everything. It's part of the behavioral analysis for all new Walkers."
He straightened up again.
"Disobedience isn't punished with a warning. It's erased."
Vikram didn't need to ask what "erasure" meant.
Slowly, Brunus led him to the outside when he noticed that Vikram was gradually calming down.
When they stepped outside, his breath caught.
This wasn't Kerala.
It wasn't Earth.
It was a city forged from future dreams—skyscrapers curved like blades, towers pierced clouds, and light streamed from airships drifting silently above. Holograms danced across the streets. Roads shifted beneath their feet like living things. Technology had ascended into something indistinguishable from magic.
Brunus, dressed in a loose black shirt and khaki cargos, led the way with calm steps.
"The Mother System brings advancement. Resistance is rare. We compensate local governments generously. Most cooperate."
"And if they don't?" Vikram asked, his voice low.
Brunus turned his head, and for the first time, the weight behind his easy smile cracked. He gave Vikram a sidelong glance—a flicker of wildness in his eyes.
"They disappear."
The conversation ended.
At the canteen, Vikram's instincts betrayed him. He ordered more food than he could stomach. Whatever tension remained evaporated the moment he bit into the first dish. The table was made of some strange black stone—soft to the touch, yet unbreakable. The food... divine. Every bite reminded him how hungry he truly was.
But just as he reached for the dessert tray in the middle of his main course, Brunus leaned back with a yawn and dropped a bomb.
"You were the last Walker to wake up from the trial," Brunus said, leaning back lazily as he ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair. His tone was casual—too casual. "That kind of delay usually points to a mutation in your Inherent Ability."
He glanced at Vikram, eyes half-lidded with disinterest. "If you know anything, now's the time to share. I'll let you enjoy your meal in peace."
Vikram stiffened, spoon halfway to his mouth.
"…I don't have one," he said quietly.
Brunus's hand stopped mid-gesture. The air seemed to thicken around them.
"You what?"
"I don't have an Inherent Ability," Vikram repeated, firmer this time—but the tremble in his voice betrayed him, so he forced the food upon his throat to hid it.
For a heartbeat, Brunus didn't move.
Then his smile disappeared.
"Don't test me," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You think this is a joke?"
"I'm not lying!" Vikram snapped, voice muffled by a mouthful of food. Bits of half-chewed meat flew from his lips as he stood up, fists clenched, breath ragged.
The taste turned sour in his mouth.
His throat caught mid-sentence, forcing him to swallow hard. It calmed his body—but not his rage. His eyes reddened, blood vessels like thin cracks in glass.
"I… am useless. I guess," he muttered, almost to himself.
Brunus didn't speak.
Instead, he reached across the table and clamped a hand around Vikram's wrist.
Vikram flinched. A surge of alien energy flooded into him—like something crawling just beneath his skin. It was invasive, squirming. Familiar, even. Crimson Immortal had done this to him once… no, not like this. This felt worse. Colder. Less human.
It was a scan. No, a violation.
But Brunus was far too strong. Resistance would've been meaningless.
So Vikram sat still, eyes burning, lips pressed into a thin line. When the probing didn't stop, he gave up trying to act composed. His spoon clattered to the side, fork shoved away like it had betrayed him.
He shoved food into his mouth with his bare hands, fingers greasy and shaking.
So much for manners. So much for dignity. What was the point, if even basic human boundaries could be torn apart like this?
Across the table, Brunus's brows furrowed.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
And then… pity. Real pity. The kind that doesn't come with sympathy, only silent judgment. Like watching a flower grow in the middle of a wasteland—beautiful, but doomed.
Brunus let go slowly, like the contact itself had drained something from him.
Vikram didn't speak. He didn't look up.
He just kept eating, hands moving mechanically, stuffing food into his mouth as if that would stop the growing hollow in his chest. He forced himself to chew. Forced his hand not to shake.
Brunus slowly rose to his feet, scratching the back of his head as he lingered beside Vikram. The boy didn't even look up. He just kept eating, shoveling food into his mouth like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
With a quiet sigh, Brunus stepped back, giving him space.
"...Smooth, Brunus. Real smooth. Made a freaking kid's life worse!"
He mumbled, and moved away slowly, his footstep heavier. Vikram's ears twicthed, but he didn't stop eating.
After finishing the meal—which, thankfully, was free—Vikram wiped his face and rubbed his eyes. His vision blurred for a moment, but he blamed it on the sweat,