The words burned into Eliot's eyes, not like a trick of light, but as if permanently etched there: (A SYSTEM ACTIVATE) (HOST CONNECTED). The world around him seemed to waver slightly, like a hazy dream. His heart, which had been still and heavy, now thumped wildly – too fast, too hard.
He stumbled back on the curb, hitting his head against a lamppost. "What... what was that?" he croaked. He looked around frantically. Cars sped by, their lights cutting through the fading evening. People walked past, glued to their phones, not noticing a thing. The strange words were only for him.
A cold, sharp fear began to grip him. Was he losing his mind? The idea was almost a relief compared to the terrifying thought that this was real. He pinched his arm hard. The pain was real. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the words would vanish. When he opened them, they were still there, like a digital ghost.
Then, a new feeling started. A deep hum, vibrating in his bones. It felt like electricity, a buzzing beneath his skin. It wasn't bad, but it was strange. He felt it in his fingertips, a light pressure, a readiness. He reached out his hand without thinking, and a faint blue light flickered around his palm. He gasped, pulling his hand back as if burned.
"No, no, no," he whispered, shaking his head. This couldn't be happening. He was just Eliot. A man who had lost his job, his wife, everything. Not some character from a sci-fi movie. But the hum stayed, and when he dared to look again, the faint blue glow was still there, softly pulsing around his hand.
He pushed himself up, his legs unsteady. His backpack felt heavier, not just with his few things, but with the sudden, crushing weight of this unbelievable event. He needed to escape, to a place where he could think, where he could be alone with this... system. The park. It was dark and mostly empty now.
He stumbled through the streets, the unfamiliar feeling of power thrumming under his skin, making every nerve tingle. The city seemed sharper, sounds clearer. He could hear bits of conversations from people passing by, a distant police siren, even the rustle of leaves in the park's trees. It was too much, a flood of sounds he'd never noticed before.
Reaching a quiet bench deep in the park, Eliot collapsed onto it, breathing heavily. The glowing text still floated in front of him, a constant, unsettling reminder: (A SYSTEM ACTIVATE) (HOST CONNECTED). What did it mean? What was a 'Host'? Was it him? And 'System'? What kind of system?
He tried to calm his racing thoughts. He looked down at his hands, watching the faint blue light pulse. He focused, trying to make it stop, but it stayed. Then, a tiny spark of curiosity cut through his fear. What if he tried to do something?
He remembered a movie scene, where a character had new powers. He imagined pushing, pulling, willing something to happen. He focused on a small twig near his feet. He held out his hand, the blue light growing a little brighter. He pictured the twig lifting, just a bit.
Nothing.
He sighed, a frustrated, tearful sound. Of course not. It was just his mind playing tricks.
But then, the words in his vision flickered, and a new line appeared against the darkening sky: (INITIATING BASIC INTERFACE PROTOCOL… GUIDANCE AVAILABLE).
Guidance? A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't just a hallucination. It was responding to him.
He thought, Show me.
The shimmering text changed again, turning into strange symbols, then into words he understood, like a menu.
SYSTEM INTERFACE:
STATUS
ABILITIES
GUIDE
SETTINGS
Eliot stared, his mind reeling. This was beyond anything he could have imagined. His old life was gone. But from its ruins, something truly amazing, and terrifying, had just begun. He was no longer just the man who had lost everything. He was a host. And he had a system. What would it do to him? What would it ask of him? And could this power, whatever it was, help him get back what he'd lost, or would it just destroy what little he had left?