Adam sat at his desk, the hum of his computer the only sound in the quiet room. It was his eighteenth birthday, but despite the usual excitement, something felt off. The usual gifts—a book, a sweater, a cake—seemed trivial today.
His mind felt clouded, and the excitement that normally came with the day was replaced by an overwhelming sense of unease.
The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each second stretching longer than the last.
A knock on the door broke the silence.
"Adam, something came for you," his mom's voice echoed from the hallway. She entered, holding a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. "It was left outside. No sender, no return address."
Adam frowned. The lack of a return address was odd, especially considering he hadn't been expecting anything.
He took the package from her with a raised eyebrow. It was light, almost too light. He unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small metallic sphere, no bigger than a tennis ball. It gleamed faintly under the light, its surface perfectly smooth, without any markings or buttons.
"What is this?" Adam muttered, inspecting it closely. There was no obvious clue as to its origin. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the odd warmth radiating from it. Something about it felt... strange, yet oddly compelling.
Then, unexpectedly, a strange hum filled his mind. It wasn't an external sound; it was inside his head, a mechanical whirring that felt almost physical. The sound grew louder, then suddenly stopped. Then, the voice came—calm, disembodied, yet eerily clear. System initialization...
Adam froze. His heart raced as the voice echoed in his mind. Was he imagining this? He looked down at the orb, his grip tightening. The sensation felt real, too real to ignore.
The hum resumed again briefly before fading out completely. A soft, almost imperceptible tone followed. Initialization complete. System activated.
His breath hitched as he processed the words in his head. Adam's eyes widened in disbelief. Could this really be happening? The orb in his hand sat still, as if waiting for him to react.
He glanced at the computer screen. It flickered on without warning, displaying a simple interface. The message was direct, plain but undeniably real.
Mission: Observation and reporting. Reward: 100 SC for successful completion.
SC? Adam leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the unfamiliar term. What did that mean? He wasn't sure whether to laugh or panic. Was this some kind of joke? A weird birthday prank? But nothing about it felt like a joke.
His heart raced as the orb in his hand pulsed, its warmth spreading through his fingers. Was this connected to the screen? His mind buzzed with questions.
The message on the screen blinked again, now with a simple prompt: Accept mission? Yes/No.
Adam's hand hovered over the mouse. For a moment, he did nothing, uncertain of what he was about to do. Could he trust this? Was it a test, a strange game, or something far more serious? His mind raced through the possibilities. But something inside him told him that this was real. Whatever this was, it was not a joke.
Without fully understanding what he was doing, he clicked Yes.
The screen immediately went blank. The words disappeared, leaving him staring at an empty interface. The room felt smaller, quieter. In his mind, the message reappeared, stark and cold. Mission accepted. Begin task.
Adam's pulse quickened. What was happening? What had he just agreed to? His eyes darted around the room as if looking for answers in the walls.
Everything seemed the same, but nothing felt the same. His hands trembled as he held the orb, feeling the warmth seep into his skin. His mind raced as confusion set in.
What now?
The screen was blank, offering no guidance. His thoughts felt fragmented, and he could barely focus on anything for more than a few seconds. His entire world seemed to shift with the click of a button. The clock on the wall ticked louder now, marking the passing seconds as he sat frozen in place.
He looked back at the orb. It was small, inconspicuous, but in that moment, it felt like the weight of the world rested in his hands. Whatever this system was, whatever this mission was, there was no going back now.
Adam stood up, pacing the room. The walls seemed to close in around him. His breath came in short, shallow bursts. The normality of the room—a room he had sat in countless times—felt like a distant memory. His life had just changed in a way he couldn't understand.
There were no instructions, no guidance. Just the voice in his mind and the eerie hum of the orb. He didn't know what the mission was, but he was in it now. He had accepted it, and there was no turning back.
His gaze turned to the clock again. It felt like hours had passed, but the hands had barely moved. Was he dreaming? Had all of this really happened? His mind spiraled, but the reality of the situation began to settle in.
This was real. This wasn't some prank or hallucination. Something had activated inside him, and now there was no going back.
Adam's eyes returned to the orb, still resting on the desk. He felt a strange connection to it, as though it was calling him to take action, to begin the task.
But what was it? What was the task, and how was he supposed to begin? His body was tense, his stomach twisted in knots. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew one thing for sure: his life had changed.
The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. Adam moved back to his desk, his fingers lightly brushing the orb again.
It pulsed with warmth, as if it had a life of its own. It felt like a silent command, urging him to take the next step.
He exhaled slowly, trying to steady his breathing. Whatever this mission was, whatever this system was, he couldn't hide from it.
He didn't know what was waiting for him, but he had no choice but to face it. There was no turning back now.