Chapter 2: Rebirth in Shadows
A sharp, acrid stench invaded my nostrils as I jolted awake with a strangled gasp. My body convulsed, as if I was dragged back from a nightmare.
My heart pounded against my ribs.
My throat was dry, my limbs cold and trembling.
My back scraped against damp, uneven stone as I scrambled upright, only to slam my shoulder into a crumbling brick wall. The rough texture of the brick bit into my skin.
“What… what the hell—?”
My breath came out in ragged bursts.
The world around me swam, neon signs flickering in the distance, their light smeared by dirty puddles scattered around the narrow alley. The rain-slicked ground reflected the city's underbelly - a stark contrast to the sterile prison cell.
The air stank of piss, mold, and something metallic. A symphony of urban decay.
This wasn’t the hospital.
This wasn’t my old room.
This wasn’t anywhere I knew. Disorientation warred with a growing sense of unease.
‘Am I… alive? Or is this hell?’
Then—a voice.
Cold. Monotone. Mechanical.
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[Dominion System initializing… Successful.]
I froze. Every nerve ending screamed.
My pulse spiked.
“Who’s there?!”
I spun around wildly, back pressed against the wall. The alley was empty. My eyes darted around, searching for the source of the voice, but there was no one.
A black screen blinked to life before my eyes, hanging in midair. It flickered, casting an eerie glow on the grimy surroundings.
Lines of strange text scrolled faster than I could follow.
My gut screamed. Some kind of hallucination? A curse? Some dungeon shit? Was I losing my mind?
My hands flew up to my head, fingers digging into my scalp.
“No, no, no— I’m not crazy—”
But the voice came again.
Calm. Unhurried.
[I am the Dominion System—a wandering consciousness in search of a perfect host. Countless realms, countless failures. Until you.]
My lips trembled.
I laughed—a weak, broken thing.
“You’ve got the wrong guy.”
My voice cracked.
“I’m not special. I’m a cripple. I’m a failure. I— I can’t even—”
My chest heaved.
[Incorrect.]
The system’s voice sharpened.
It felt like cold needles digging into my brain.
[Your soul's corruption, your bitterness, your hunger—all are ideal. You are exactly what I need.]
I clenched my jaw.
Fury momentarily overtaking fear.
“I don’t trust disembodied voices. You could be a curse, a parasite, some psycho dungeon AI for all I know.”
A pause.
Then—a chuckle.
[Cautious. Good.]
A new window appeared.
[Starter Abilities Generated.]
[Subspace — Level 1]
[Clone Skill — Basic]
[Dominion Points: 0]
I lingered on the words.
My fear didn’t vanish—but curiosity crept in, cold and sharp. A dangerous spark in the darkness.
“…If this is a trick, I’ll kill you myself.”
[Deal.]
The voice was smug now. Like it knew something I didn’t.
I exhaled, wiping my face.
“Fine. I’ll bite. What’s first?”