The first rays of sunlight seeped through the thin curtains of Jack's small room, casting a faint glow on the disheveled pile of clothes scattered across the floor. Jack groaned as he sat up, his head heavy and his body aching. Sleep had come late the night before; he had been up ironing clothes for a client, desperate to earn the meager payment that might cover a fraction of his sister's mounting hospital bills.
Ariel, his younger sister, had been in and out of the hospital for two years now, battling a severe heart condition. The doctors had told them her only chance was a heart transplant—an option so far out of reach it felt like a cruel joke. Despite Jack and his mother saving every penny they could scrape together, they hadn't even reached a quarter of the required amount. Even the contributions from Elisa's family, though generous, had barely made a dent in the towering expenses.
Jack rubbed his temples, trying to push the thoughts away. Worrying wouldn't help Ariel. He dragged himself out of bed, threw on a fresh shirt, and was about to head to the kitchen when an unfamiliar sound stopped him in his tracks.
*Ding!*
"
Jack froze, his eyes widening. The voice had no source—no device, no speakers, just an inexplicable presence in his mind. At the same time, a translucent blue screen appeared before him, its letters glowing faintly.
For a moment, he stared at the screen, dumbfounded. He'd read about systems in novels before—those fantastical, life-changing entities that bestowed power and skills upon their hosts. But this was reality. Systems weren't supposed to exist.
"Must be some kind of hallucination," Jack muttered, shaking his head. He ignored the screen and grabbed the neatly pressed clothes hanging by the door. His client was expecting them early, and he couldn't risk being late.
****
The road outside Jack's bungalow stretched desolate and quiet, flanked by overgrown weeds. He flagged down a cab heading toward Hailey Street.
"Hailey Street," Jack said as he climbed in.
The driver nodded, his hands steady on the wheel as the car rolled forward. For a few minutes, the ride was silent, the hum of the engine the only sound. Then, out of nowhere, the driver spoke.
"Son, you got a system, didn't you?"
Jack's stomach churned. He glanced at the driver, whose weathered face betrayed no ill intent, just curiosity.
"I don't know anything about systems," Jack said, his tone guarded.
The man hummed thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the road. "Weird things are happening, huh? I got some kind of notification this morning. Thought I was dreaming until my youngest said he got the same thing. Crazy world we're living in."
Jack didn't respond, choosing instead to stare out the window. The driver didn't press further, muttering something under his breath as the cab continued its journey.
****
Hailey Street loomed ahead, its clean, polished roads a stark contrast to the rough terrain of Jack's neighborhood. This wasn't just a street—it was a town within a town, where the wealthy and powerful lived in sprawling mansions. As a child, Jack had dreamed of living here, imagining himself in one of those grand houses, far removed from the struggles of his current life. Now, reality mocked him as he stepped out of the cab, arms laden with freshly pressed laundry.
He walked up the marble steps of a stately home, his heart heavy. The client, Mr. Diaz, was one of the few in Hailey Street who had ever given Jack a chance. Most residents preferred professional laundry services, scoffing at the idea of hiring someone like him. Mr. Diaz, however, had shown kindness—a rare commodity in these parts.
Jack knocked on the ornate door, his knuckles barely making a sound against the heavy wood.
The door swung open, revealing Mr. Diaz, a gray-haired man with a kind smile. "Ah, right on time," he said warmly. "How much is it this time, boy?"
"Twenty-five dollars, sir," Jack replied, his voice polite but subdued.
Mr. Diaz nodded and disappeared inside, leaving Jack standing on the doorstep. A few moments later, he returned, handing Jack a wad of cash. Jack counted it—twenty-two dollars. He suppressed a sigh but managed a grateful smile.
"Thank you, sir," Jack said softly.
"Keep up the good work," Mr. Diaz said with a wink before closing the door.
****
By the time Jack returned home, the town was abuzz with news about the systems. Every radio station, television channel, and conversation seemed to revolve around them. People had finally learned what they were—and why they had been granted.
The systems, as it turned out, weren't random. They were bestowed only upon those deemed worthy, their names inscribed in the fabled Book of Life. For the elderly, the systems offered a singular, merciful gift: the option to wish for a painless death, granting them peace and ascension to the heavens. For the rest, the systems were tools, a lifeline in the looming battle against an alien force threatening Earth.
As different factions are being formed, forming armies of system weilders, training them to stand against the impending invasion. It was a new era, and the world was scrambling to adapt.
****
Jack returned home to find Elisa sprawled on the couch, a bowl of chips in her lap. The television blared in the background, recounting the same stories Jack had heard all day.
"It took you forever to get back," Elisa said without looking away from the screen.
Jack poured himself a glass of water, his mind too cluttered to respond immediately. Elisa spent so much time at his house that she was practically family, a fixture in his life as constant as the creaking floorboards beneath his feet.
"You've heard about the systems?" she asked, finally tearing her gaze from the screen.
Jack sipped his water, his throat dry. "I don't believe in that nonsense. Are you one of those system bearers?"
Elisa grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Surprisingly, yes. Still trying to figure out how, though. I mean, I stole from my mom's purse just two days ago."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "So did I," he said flatly, setting his empty glass on the table.
Elisa chuckled, leaning back into the couch. But her laughter faded as her gaze drifted back to the television. "Do you think this is the start of something bigger?"
Jack didn't answer. But deep down, as much as he tried to deny it, a part of him couldn't shake the unease gnawing at his chest. Something was coming. And whether he liked it or not, he might already be a part of it.