Liam stood in the middle of his apartment, the lights off, curtains drawn. Only the flickering blue glow from the crack overhead seeped in through the window like a silent observer.
He held his breath and listened.
Outside, the world whispered in layered noise — distant footsteps, an engine sputtering three blocks away, the flutter of wings brushing glass. He could hear it all. His senses had expanded far beyond anything human.
He moved to the kitchen, picked up a metal spoon, and dropped it.
Clang.
The sound reverberated with unnatural clarity. Not just the volume — but the detail. The slight echo off the walls, the vibration through the floor. It was like he could see the sound.
He gripped the spoon and tried something more.
Focusing.
Just like in meditation or kata practice, he centered his breathing, focused on the hum in his chest — the pulse of ARC energy. It responded. Not wildly, but subtly. His skin tingled. His vision sharpened. The faint lines of heat in the room became visible — like ripples in the air.
He wasn't hallucinating.
The energy was alive inside him. Obedient… for now.
But it scared him.
How much of me is still me?
Meanwhile, 10,000 Meters Above the Pacific Crack
The dull hum of the plane's engines was drowned out by the tension inside the command cabin. Scientists, soldiers, and government officials sat strapped into their seats, staring at the wide monitors broadcasting live footage from the aircraft's exterior.
A sleek drone hovered ahead of the aircraft, flying directly toward the edge of the Pacific ARC crack — the largest of the eight.
On screen, the crack loomed like a wound in the sky, its jagged borders shimmering. A storm of color churned within — blues, violets, and shades the human brain barely processed. Energy readings fluctuated wildly.
"This is as close as we've ever gotten," said Dr. Mariko Yamada, head of the ARC Response Initiative. She adjusted her glasses and glanced at the biosensor graphs.
"Radiation is climbing… but still within acceptable range," her assistant muttered.
The general beside her growled, "Can it be weaponized?"
Dr. Yamada didn't answer immediately. Instead, she studied a heat signature forming near the drone's feed. Her eyes widened.
Something was moving inside the crack. A shape — massive, serpentine, and aware.
Before anyone could speak, the feed cut to static.
The drone was gone.
Back in Osaka, Liam collapsed to the floor, clutching his head.
His ears rang with an unnatural tone — one not from this world.
For just a moment, he saw something impossible behind his eyelids.
A towering shadow, reaching… watching… waiting from within the crack.
And then it was gone.
He gasped for breath, sweat pouring down his face.
The ARC wasn't just mutating the world.
It was calling.