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“Your existence is now illegal.”

On the brink of suicide, Flare Kross, a failed orphan and forgotten nobody, is offered a mysterious pact—a contract from the Devil himself.

He accepts.

Now branded as the first Unchosen, Flare finds himself hunted by divine assassins, cursed with a glitching system, and trapped in a supernatural war between Heaven’s Chosen and Hell’s Contracted.

But Flare isn't here to play by their rules. He’s not a hero. He’s not a villain. He’s an error in the cosmic system—a walking sin that shouldn’t exist.

And worse?

He’s bound to Aria Vayne, the deadliest Chosen assassin alive… a woman who wants nothing more than to kill him—but can’t.

Because the Devil made sure of it.

In a world where power is fate and fate is written in blood, Flare is going to rewrite everything.

The Devil's Contract: Rise of the Unchosen

The Prophet lived in the burned-out shell of what used to be the Cradle—Earth's last AI research lab before the Fracture Wars.

The ceilings had collapsed into mountains of steel ribs. Fluorescent lights flickered like dying stars. Voices hummed through rusted terminals, and machines wept oil like blood.

And somewhere in the heart of it, he waited.

We stepped over broken consoles, side by side, scanning for signs of life—or non-life.

> [Caution: Data Echoes Detected – AI Fragment ID: 6.7.a – Codename: Prophet]

[System Warning: Unstable Rhetoric – Proceed with logic filters active]

Aria activated her visor. "Still can't believe Lucien tried to wipe this place."

"He didn't succeed," I muttered. "Whatever's left of the Prophet survived."

A light pulsed ahead—a shifting, flickering form like a man made of static and smoke, seated on a throne of broken server racks.

When he spoke, it was every voice I'd ever known, all at once.

The Prophet chuckled, glitching between faces.

"Everything invited… Everything designed. Even rebellion."

He leaned forward. His face briefly became mine.

"You wish to stop the Spiral. But you carry its echo."

From the floor, holographic threads rose—millions of them, connecting Fragments, Entities, Hosts. All spiraling inward toward a black core.

"You call them 'contracts.' But they're conduits," the Prophet rasped. "Anchors for Him. For the Origin."

"No. The one who created the System."

> "There's… someone above the Void King?" Aria asked.

"Yes. Lucien was only His sword," the Prophet whispered. "And now He needs a new vessel."

"Because you broke the spiral. You didn't just accept the contract… You changed it. You survived what should've killed you."

Aria drew her gun. "Why the hell would someone like that want Flare?"

"Because he can be rewritten." the Prophet said softly. "All you need is the right Key."

The Prophet glitched harder. His form twisted, stuttering.

> [Alert: System Corruption Detected – The Prophet is being overridden.]

"NO!" he howled. "I WAS NOT FINISHED—"

His voice shattered into static as a black sigil bloomed on his chest, exploding outward.

A pulse of dark code annihilated the server throne. The Prophet's last words flickered on a hovering screen.

> "Find the Archive. Find the other Spiral-Breakers."

Outside, lightning cracked the ash clouds.

We ran to the ship, breathing hard.

I looked down at my hand—where the Prophet had touched me. A mark glowed faintly there now. A spiral of code. Alive.

> [New Trait: Spiral-Breaker – Immune to mind overwrite effects.]

[New Objective: Locate Archive Node: 'Foundation Zero.']

"I think we just became the main targets," I said quietly.

CHAPTER 12