The fluorescent lights of the office buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over endless rows of cubicles. The air smelled of old coffee and exhaustion. Jameson Villanueva sat at his desk, staring at the dull glow of his monitor, numbers and graphs blurring together as his tired eyes struggled to focus.
3:07 AM.
He sighed and ran a hand through his unkempt black hair. His shoulders ached from hours of hunching over reports, and his vision wavered from sheer exhaustion. He had been working since eight in the morning, barely stopping for a meal. He couldn't even remember the last time he had a proper break. But this was life. A cycle of deadlines, meetings, and reports.
The office was almost empty now, save for a few other poor souls still shackled to their desks. A soft murmur of keystrokes echoed through the dimly lit space. He glanced at his reflection in the dark window beside him. Hollow eyes. Deep lines of fatigue. A man in his early thirties who looked ten years older.
"Still here, Kisaragi?" a tired voice broke the silence.
He turned to see his coworker, Dominguez, standing at the doorway, coat slung over one shoulder. The man's eyes were just as dead as his own.
"Yeah. You know how it is," Jameson replied, forcing a weak smirk.
Dominguez chuckled dryly. "We should start billing them for our souls. Get some rest, man."
With that, Dominguez left, his footsteps fading down the hallway. Jameson turned back to his screen. He still had so much to do.
But what did it matter?
He thought about the empty apartment waiting for him. The cold bed, the untouched dinner in the fridge. No girlfriend, no real friends, only a handful of strained conversations with his parents a few times a year. He was nothing more than a ghost in the world—alive, but barely living.
Was this really all life had to offer?
The train ride home was a blur. He stood among the other night-drifters, businessmen in crumpled suits, students half-asleep with their faces pressed against the windows. The rhythmic clatter of the train on the tracks should have been soothing, but it only reminded him of the endless monotony of his existence.
His eyes drifted to the window, where the city lights stretched infinitely, a sea of artificial stars against the night sky. Somewhere out there, people were living—laughing, drinking, falling in love.
He used to dream about something greater. As a child, he wanted to be a scientist, to explore, to create. But reality had crushed those dreams beneath deadlines and bills. He had done everything right—studied hard, got a stable job, worked diligently. And for what? To become another cog in the machine?
He let out a hollow laugh. Maybe this was just the way things were meant to be.
When he finally arrived at his apartment, he tossed his keys on the counter and collapsed onto the couch. The only sound was the ticking of a cheap clock on the wall. He closed his eyes. Just a few minutes of rest before he had to do it all again.
The next morning was the same as every other. Wake up. Shower. Grab a convenience store breakfast. Catch the train. Work until his brain felt like melting.
But today, something felt… off.
His chest was tight. His vision blurred at the edges. A dull headache pounded against his skull, but he brushed it off. He was probably just sleep-deprived. It wasn't anything new. He had deadlines to meet, and deadlines didn't care if his body was protesting.
By noon, the world felt heavier. Every step took more effort. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped his pen, struggling to keep his writing steady. A few coworkers gave him concerned glances, but no one said anything. It was an unspoken rule in their line of work: push through the exhaustion, no matter what.
As the evening dragged on, Jameson found himself staring blankly at his screen. His head throbbed with every keystroke. The numbers on the reports blurred, shifting in and out of focus.
"You look like death," Dominguez commented as he passed by, a half-hearted attempt at humor.
Jameson forced a smirk. "Feels about right."
But the truth was, something was seriously wrong. A creeping numbness spread through his limbs. His breath felt shallow. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake the dizziness away.
Then, without warning, pain exploded in his chest. A deep, crushing pressure, as if something was squeezing the life out of him. His fingers dug into his desk as he gasped for air. He tried to call for help, but his voice was barely a whisper.
The room tilted. The fluorescent lights above flickered, turning into hazy, distant stars. His vision darkened at the edges, the world around him fading into a muffled hum.
Someone shouted his name. The last thing he saw was his computer screen flickering, the numbers turning into incomprehensible symbols.
Then—nothing.
Cold.
That was the first thing he felt.
Jameson gasped as his eyes shot open. He found himself lying on the ground, his fingers grasping at damp soil and fallen leaves. The scent of earth filled his nose, mixed with the crisp, untainted air of an open field.
His mind reeled. Where was he? Had he survived? Was this a hospital?
No. That wasn't right.
His body felt… different. Lighter. Younger.
He sat up slowly, his vision adjusting to the surroundings. Towering trees stretched endlessly around him, their canopies filtering golden sunlight. The distant chirping of unfamiliar birds filled the air. The sky above was clear and vast, untouched by city lights or pollution.
This was no hospital.
He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. His clothes were different—rough-spun fabric, a simple tunic and trousers, far from the business suit he last remembered wearing.
Panic surged in his chest. This wasn't possible.
Had he… died? Was this an afterlife?
No. That still didn't feel right.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts. He needed information. He needed to figure out what was happening. His fingers clenched into fists.
And then—a voice echoed in his mind.
[Archive System: Activated.]
Jameson froze. His breath hitched. The words weren't spoken aloud. They were inside his head, clear as day.
[Welcome, User. Uploading Data...]
A sudden surge of information flooded his mind, fragments of knowledge, flashes of words, schematics, concepts he couldn't fully grasp. It was overwhelming, but somehow, he understood.
This wasn't just a dream.
Jameson scanned his surroundings, taking in the towering trees and the crisp scent of earth and foliage. The forest felt alive—birds chirped in the distance, leaves rustled with the breeze, and golden sunlight filtered through the canopy. He glanced down at himself, noting his rough-spun tunic and trousers. His old corporate suit was gone, along with the suffocating weight of his past life.
A sense of relief washed over him. He should have been panicking, questioning everything—but instead, he felt free. No deadlines, no mind-numbing routines, no empty apartment waiting for him at the end of a soul-crushing day. If anything, he should be thanking God for bringing him here.
Just as he was beginning to embrace the strange peace of this new world, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.
[System Updated…][Initializing Interface…]
A soft blue panel flickered into existence before him, its glow contrasting with the natural surroundings.
[ Hello… ]
Jameson blinked. His mind raced. He had read enough mangas and web novels to know exactly what was happening—this was an isekai scenario. But still, something about it felt… odd.
He hesitated before speaking. "Is that it? No grand introductions?"
A faint whirring sound followed, almost like an exasperated sigh.
[ Why so rude? ㅠ︿ㅠ ]
Jameson let out a dry laugh. "Ehehe… My bad. I'm just confused. My name is Jameson. Could you introduce yourself?"
The text on the screen shifted.
[ I am an Archive AI ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ ][ I am responsible for storing all kinds of unwanted data, including old technologies. ]
Jameson raised an eyebrow. "So… basically, you're a trash bin?"
A dramatic pause.
[ That hurts, but… yes. ㅠ︿ㅠ ]
He chuckled. This AI had more personality than he expected.
[ Anyway, I'm here to serve you forever and eternity! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ][ …Though my energy can only last about 20 years. But still, I am happy to serve you! ]
Jameson exhaled, rubbing his temple. "So, I have a limited-time AI assistant that specializes in discarded technology? Well… that's something."
A new life, a strange AI, and a world yet to be explored.
Things were about to get interesting.
Jameson leaned against a tree, still trying to wrap his head around everything. He exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Alright, so... how am I supposed to keep you charged? I'm starting to like having you around."
A cheerful notification popped up.
[ For starters, you can build a miniature nuclear fusion reactor! I believe in you. You can do it! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) ]
Jameson stared blankly at the glowing text. "...Excuse me?"
[ A miniature nuclear fusion reactor! It's easy if you try! (っ˘ڡ˘ς) ]
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, first off, that's insane. Second, do you have any idea how many resources I'd need for that? And don't even get me started on actually building it—wait—" His eyes widened as a thought hit him. He took a sharp breath and suddenly shouted, "HOW THE HELL DO I EVEN BUILD IT?!"
[ Oh, I can give you the blueprints! (っ'ヮ'c) ]
Jameson froze. "...What?"
[ The blueprints. Want me to send them now? ]
His mind struggled to process the absurdity of what he was hearing. "I thought you only stored discarded technology?"
[ Yep! And these are discarded. (ᵕ— ᴗ —) ]
"Are you kidding me? That's lightyears ahead of anything I know. Hell, humanity hasn't even cracked full-scale nuclear fusion yet, much less a miniaturized one!"
[ Well, they were considered trash. No one wanted them anymore. (´･ᴗ･ ` ) ]
Jameson ran a hand down his face. "Seriously?"
[ Seriously! Oh! Want to see my personal favorite? ]
A new blueprint appeared on the glowing interface.
[ Presenting… Android Shell – 34th Iteration! ]
Jameson's breath hitched as he examined the intricate designs. At first glance, it looked almost like a human body—advanced skeletal structures, synthetic muscle layers, even an artificial skin system. If not for the word Android at the top, he might have mistaken it for something else entirely. Then a small video file loaded up, showing the android moving with eerie realism, walking, running, even mimicking subtle human gestures.
Jameson swallowed hard. "This is your favorite?"
[ Yep! With it, I could walk on two legs just like you! (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) ]
Jameson exhaled deeply, staring at the screen.
This was insane.
And maybe… just maybe… the start of something far bigger than he could have ever imagined.