A Fractured Truth

Cipher's expression hardened, the flickering neon glow from his implants casting shifting shadows across his face. For a man who had seen the deepest cracks in the system, fear wasn't something Orion expected from him.

"Say that again," Cipher said, voice a whisper, yet carrying the weight of something heavy.

Orion met his gaze. "I can see reality diverge," he repeated. "And I can change it."

Cipher didn't blink. He leaned back, his fingers tapping rapidly against his desk, cycling through endless streams of data projected across his screens. Symbols flickered, sequences rearranged, and then—nothing. Cipher stopped, exhaling slowly as he turned to Orion once more.

"You don't even understand what you are, do you?" he finally said.

Orion clenched his fists. "I don't have time for riddles. The Eschaton Judges are hunting me. If I don't figure this out fast, I'm dead."

Cipher sighed, rubbing his temples. "The Judges don't just hunt criminals. They execute anomalies. Errors in the system. People who shouldn't exist." He turned the screen toward Orion, displaying a fragmented profile—his own. "And right now, you are the biggest anomaly this city has ever seen."

Orion stared at the screen, heart pounding. His profile was incomplete, and broken. Like someone had tried to erase him from the system but failed. Data points flickered, shifting between possibilities as if even the records couldn't decide what was real.

"Why?" Orion asked. "Why am I like this?"

Cipher hesitated, then stood, pacing the room. "You're asking the wrong question. It's not why—it's how. Something happened to you. Something rewrote you."

The memory of cold metal beneath his skin. The moment in the void, the impossible fracture of reality. Orion gritted his teeth. "Then tell me what I need to do."

Cipher smirked. "That's where things get complicated. See, if you were just a glitch, the system would've purged you by now. But you're still here, still breathing. Which means someone—somewhere—wants you alive."

Orion's stomach twisted. "Who?"

A loud beep interrupted them. Cipher turned, scanning his terminal. His smirk faded. "Well, that didn't take long."

Orion peered at the screen. The data was shifting, breaking apart. A system breach.

Cipher cursed. "They've found us."

The room flickered. Then the walls—no, the entire space—began to distort. The Judges weren't just coming. They were already here.

Orion's pulse spiked. The fractured truth was unraveling faster than he could piece it together.

He looked back at Cipher, but the hacker was already moving. A concealed panel in the floor hissed open, revealing a narrow escape tunnel. Cipher gestured. "No time to think. Move."

Orion didn't hesitate. He leaped down, landing in a dimly lit corridor lined with exposed wiring and rusted pipes. Cipher followed, sealing the hatch behind them.

"This tunnel leads to the lower districts," Cipher said, running alongside Orion. "It's off-grid, but if the Judges have full access to the system, they might still track us."

Orion glanced back. The walls shuddered, reality rippling unnaturally. "I don't think they need the system anymore."

Cipher swore under his breath. "Then you better figure out how to use that power of yours, fast."

They rounded a corner, only to skid to a halt as a jagged tear split open ahead of them. From the void emerged a figure—a Judge, but not like the others. This one's helm bore a single eye, glowing with a sickly gold light. Its armor pulsed with shifting energy, as if barely containing the forces within.

"Orion," the Judge spoke, its voice reverberating through the tunnel. "You cannot run from what you are."

Orion's breath hitched. He wasn't sure what terrified him more—that it knew his name, or that some part of him believed it.

Cipher grabbed his wrist. "We have to move—now."

Orion's muscles tensed. He had a choice. Keep running—or face the truth waiting in that Judge's single, unblinking eye.

To be continued...