System Error

A dull, rhythmic beeping pulled Lin Wei from the depths of unconsciousness. His head throbbed, a sharp pain radiating from the base of his skull. His body felt sluggish, as if submerged in thick syrup.

He tried to move.

Restraints.

Cold metal clamped around his wrists and ankles. His fingers twitched against the smooth surface beneath him—surgical steel.

His eyes snapped open.

A bright, sterile light glared down from the ceiling. The walls were featureless, white, humming with the low, constant throb of machinery. Medical monitors displayed his vitals in sharp green lines, erratic but stabilizing. A faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air.

Lin Wei turned his head slightly. Beyond the reinforced glass, a figure stood watching.

The officer from before.

He was tall, his uniform crisp, the insignia on his chest unfamiliar but undeniably important. His face was sharp, angular, his dark eyes cold and unreadable. He wasn't like the enforcers—this man didn't rely on brute force. He exuded control.

Lin Wei swallowed against the dryness in his throat. "Where am I?"

The officer tapped a control panel. The restraints around Lin Wei's wrists and ankles released with a soft hiss, but the door between them remained firmly locked.

"Welcome back," the officer said smoothly. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't wake up."

Lin Wei sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists where the metal had pressed into his skin. His body ached, but the pain was already fading—unnaturally fast. He ignored it for now. "Who are you?"

The officer smiled faintly. "You can call me Director Xian."

The name meant nothing to him.

Lin Wei glanced around, searching for an exit. Nothing. This wasn't just a medical bay. It was a containment cell.

"What do you want?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.

Xian studied him for a moment, then swiped a command across his panel. The glass between them turned translucent, revealing a massive digital display on the opposite wall. Lin Wei's profile flickered into view—name, age, biometric data… and something else.

[Designation: System Glitch]

His stomach twisted.

Xian stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. "You activated an ability outside the System's parameters."

Lin Wei frowned. "The System?"

Xian's expression remained neutral, but there was something in his gaze—curiosity, maybe even amusement. "Don't play dumb. You've seen the alerts. Quest notifications. Timers. Leveling." He tilted his head. "You've been marked by the System your whole life. Haven't you ever wondered why?"

Lin Wei's fists clenched. He had wondered. Everyone had System prompts guiding their actions in one way or another—helping them train, warning them of threats, mapping out their lives in carefully structured progressions. But something about his had always felt… off.

He had no classes. No skill tree. Just sporadic alerts, cryptic messages that came and went without explanation. And now, this.

"Your existence is an anomaly," Xian continued. "You weren't meant to have those abilities. The System didn't grant them to you. You stole them."

Lin Wei's pulse pounded. "That's impossible."

Xian's smile didn't falter. "And yet, here you are."

The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around his throat.

Lin Wei forced himself to breathe. "Why am I here?"

The director tapped the screen again. A new image appeared—surveillance footage from the alley. It showed the moment he had glitched—the world slowing, the rain freezing midair.

But something was wrong.

A shadow.

For the briefest moment, a second figure flickered beside him in the footage. A blurry, distorted outline, moving as he moved, vanishing the moment his ability cut out.

Lin Wei's blood ran cold.

"That," Xian said, "is why you're here."

Lin Wei stared at the screen, mind racing. He had been alone in that alley. He was sure of it. But this…

"What is it?" he asked.

Xian's smirk deepened. "That's what we're going to find out."

The lights flickered.

A low hum vibrated through the walls.

The monitors displaying Lin Wei's vitals flashed red.

[Warning: System Override Detected]

Xian's smirk disappeared. He turned sharply, pressing a command into his wrist panel. The reinforced glass between them began to darken again, sealing Lin Wei off from view.

The alarms blared.

Lin Wei leapt off the table, instincts screaming. Whatever was happening, it wasn't part of Xian's plan.

The room's lights flickered once more—then cut out completely.

Total darkness.

A voice whispered in his ear.

Soft. Familiar.

"You need to wake up."

A cold hand touched his shoulder—

And everything collapsed.