The figure in the distance shifted.
Ezekiel narrowed his eyes, his body tensing as he observed the creature's unnatural movements. It crawled low to the ground, its limbs twisting in ways that defied normal anatomy. Though it resembled something once human, its elongated arms and disjointed movements shattered any illusion of familiarity.
This wasn't an enforcer. It wasn't a system construct.
It was something else.
His instincts screamed at him—run.
Ezekiel clenched his fists, steadying his breath. He had fought too much, survived too long, to let fear dictate his actions. He needed to know what had happened to this place—and what these things were.
But just as he took a step forward, the creature stopped.
It lifted its head, revealing a twisted, half-decayed face, with hollow, glowing blue eyes.
Then—it spoke.
Not with words, not with sound.
With static.
A grating, broken transmission buzzed in the air, like a corrupted signal struggling to form coherence. The noise sent shivers down Ezekiel's spine, but among the distortion, he could make out a faint whisper—
"...error... anomaly... traced..."
His blood ran cold.
The system wasn't just malfunctioning.
It was watching him.
A World That Remembered Him
Ezekiel took a slow step back, eyes locked on the creature as it twitched violently. Then, in an instant—
It lunged.
His body reacted before his mind did. He dodged, barely avoiding the grotesque limbs as they slammed into the ground, shattering the concrete. Dust and debris flew up as the creature let out a horrific, static-filled shriek.
No time to think. No time to hesitate.
Ezekiel moved.
With a burst of power, he shot forward, twisting midair to deliver a devastating kick to the creature's side. The impact sent it crashing into a collapsed building, but it barely staggered before scrambling back to its feet.
"Figures." Ezekiel exhaled. "Of course, you're tough."
The thing screeched again, its voice warping into something almost recognizable—his own name.
"Eze...kiel..."
His breath caught in his throat.
This thing knew him.
His mind raced. Had the system turned people into this? Was this some kind of failed experiment? Or—
Had it always been this way, lurking beneath the surface of the world he thought he knew?
No time to answer that. The creature attacked again, faster, more erratic. Ezekiel gritted his teeth, dodging each strike by inches, his mind analyzing its movements. It was aggressive, but unrefined—strong, but lacking intelligence.
And that gave him an opening.
As the creature lunged again, Ezekiel sidestepped at the last moment. Twisting his body, he grabbed its arm and drove his knee straight into its chest.
Crack.
The force sent it sprawling, skidding across the cracked pavement. But Ezekiel didn't stop. He dashed forward, slamming his foot down onto its head with all his strength.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The creature shattered.
Not like a body breaking. Not like flesh or bone.
It disintegrated into fragmented data.
Ezekiel's eyes widened. There was no blood, no corpse—only scattered, flickering particles dissolving into the air.
The system had created this.
Or worse—it had left it behind.
A notification flashed before him.
[ Hostile Entity Terminated. ]
[ Processing Residual Data... ]
[ Memory Fragment Retrieved. ]
His vision blurred as the world flickered around him.
Then, he saw.
The Past That Was Erased
For a brief moment, Ezekiel wasn't standing in a ruined city anymore.
He was somewhere else—somewhen else.
A towering structure loomed above him, endless in height, its walls lined with pulsating, glowing veins of energy. At its base, figures in long, obsidian robes stood in a perfect circle, their faces hidden beneath featureless masks.
And at the center of it all—
A throne.
Not of metal, not of stone.
A throne made of flesh and wires.
A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his mind.
"System Authority Reclamation—Failed."
"Subject: Ezekiel. Status: Aberration."
"Correction Protocol: Incomplete."
The vision shattered, and Ezekiel was back in the ruins. His heart pounded as the fragmented memory faded, leaving only one undeniable truth.
The system hadn't forgotten him.
It had tried to erase him.
And somehow, he had survived.
But now—it knew he was back.
---
Ezekiel stood motionless as the last traces of the creature dissolved into nothingness. The fragmented data drifted through the air, dissipating like ash in the wind. His breathing was heavy, his mind racing.
It remembered me.
The voice—its distorted attempt to say his name—still echoed in his head. But what unsettled him the most wasn't the creature itself.
It was the memory fragment.
A throne made of flesh and wires.
A voice declaring him an aberration.
A system that had tried—and failed—to erase him.
Why?
He clenched his fists, frustration simmering beneath his skin. The system had dictated every aspect of life in this world. Strength, status, survival—all governed by its laws.
And yet, he was outside its rules.
Why had it tried to erase him?
What was he?
A sharp beeping sound suddenly broke through his thoughts.
[ Memory Fragment Processed. ]
[ Hidden Directive Unlocked. ]
Ezekiel's eyes widened as his interface flickered to life, revealing a new section of the system's interface—one he had never seen before.
A single message appeared.
[ Directive 07: The Phantom Protocol. ]
Phantom Protocol?
He tapped on it.
[ ACCESS RESTRICTED. ]
Before he could react, his surroundings flickered. The air itself seemed to fracture, as if reality was breaking apart.
Then—
Everything shifted.
A Space Between Realities
Ezekiel stumbled forward as the world reset around him.
The ruined city was gone.
Instead, he found himself in an endless void.
Darkness stretched infinitely in all directions, broken only by glimmering, floating shards of glass. Each shard reflected an image—a different moment in time.
He turned slowly, taking in the countless scenes trapped within the fragments. Some showed himself, moving through different places—some he recognized, others he had never seen before.
Others displayed people. Individuals locked in combat, cities crumbling, the sky itself fracturing.
But one image made him freeze.
A man sat upon a throne of flesh and wires, his head tilted slightly as if waiting.
Though his face was shadowed, Ezekiel could feel his gaze.
The moment their eyes met, a whisper echoed through the void.
"You were never meant to return."
A violent pull dragged Ezekiel backward, and the world collapsed around him.
A Forced Awakening
Ezekiel's body jolted as he was thrown back into reality.
The ruined city returned in an instant. His head pounded, his vision swam, and for a moment, he struggled to catch his breath.
The system had forced him out.
He wasn't supposed to see that place.
[ Warning: Unauthorized Access Detected. ]
[ System Override Engaged. ]
Before he could process what was happening, a new presence made itself known.
A cold, mechanical voice filled the air.
"Aberration identified. Execution authorized."
Ezekiel barely had time to react before something descended from the sky.
A new enemy.
The Enforcer of Silence
It landed without a sound.
A humanoid figure—but not human.
Its body was sleek, metallic, but wrapped in shifting black mist. It had no face, only a blank obsidian mask with a single glowing sigil carved into its surface.
The moment Ezekiel saw it, his instincts screamed at him—
This was different. This was stronger.
This wasn't some mindless creature.
This was an executioner.
A system enforcer.
The Enforcer of Silence.
And it was here for him.
---