Theo had felt it the entire time—eyes on him, a presence lurking just beyond his perception. At first, he chalked it up to paranoia, the natural result of being in a world that constantly wanted him dead.


    Now, looking back, he realized it had been too precise. Every step he took in that damned forest, every time he found shelter, every moment of hesitation—it had all felt like something was watching, measuring.


    Then, just when he was at his breaking point, the perfect distraction arrived: a surge of creatures that forced him into a desperate, high-stakes encounter. It was too convenient.


    His fists clenched as the realization set in. This wasn’t just a quest to find helpful resources. It was a setup. And he knew exactly who was responsible.


    Theo stormed into Erasmus’s workshop, pulse hammering in his ears. The room smelled of metal and smoke, a familiar scent that, under normal circumstances, might have been comforting. Now, it only fuelled his anger.


    The room itself was a chaotic blend of high-tech brilliance and borderline hoarding. Holographic blueprints flickered over floating consoles, while mechanical arms whirred in the background, constructing something only Erasmus could fathom.


    Copper wires snaked across the floor, half-buried under an array of disassembled devices. The scent of burnt circuitry mixed with the sharper tang of synthetic oil.


    "Oi, you pallid, scheming bastard!" Theo barked, his voice bouncing off the walls. "Tell me, should I be thanking you or punching you?"


    Erasmus, hunched over a floating console, barely glanced up. He flicked his fingers across a holographic interface, dismissing Theo’s outburst with infuriating nonchalance. "You’ll have to be more specific, Theo. I do many things worthy of scorn."


    Theo stalked forward, slamming his hands on the table hard enough to send a few stray tools clattering to the ground. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe the part where you set me up? That wasn’t just a request for supplies, was it? You were watching me the whole time. You knew what was coming, didn’t you?"


    Erasmus sighed, finally lifting his head. His icy blue eyes—so much like Theo’s own, but devoid of warmth—regarded him with mild irritation. "Yes. And?"


    Theo’s jaw clenched. "And that’s it?! No ‘Oops, Theo, I forgot to mention the homicidal wildlife’? No ‘Apologies Theo, I feel just terrible about misleading you in the name of science’?”


    Erasmus leaned back against his workbench, crossing his arms. "I sent you in there for two reasons. The first: I had to see how you reacted to genuine life or death pressure and locate any weaknesses or strengths you carry. The second is because you needed to understand something fundamental: this world doesn’t care about your feelings or playing fair. If I’d warned you, you’d have strutted in half-prepared, convinced you’d manage. Instead, you learned the truth: danger isn’t optional. Survival isn’t guaranteed. The System rewards strength and punishes stagnation. You, however, are an anomaly—it won’t guide you, won’t protect you. That means you have two options: adapt or die."


    Theo’s fingers dug into the table. His breaths came fast and sharp, nostrils flaring. "Yeah? Well, you could’ve told me that before throwing me into the meat grinder."


    Erasmus tilted his head, his tone almost patronizing. "And would you truly have understood? Or would you have convinced yourself that your fists and bravado were enough?" You’re incapable of taking things seriously, especially in front of other people. You’ve become your public persona, and I needed to remind you that you’re just a man. A weak one now, in fact."


    Theo opened his mouth—then hesitated. Damn him. Damn him and his infuriating logic. The realization crawled up his spine like an unwelcome spectre. If Erasmus had just told him, Theo would’ve rolled his eyes, cracked a joke, and walked in just as unprepared. There was no denying that he had to act cocky and imperious to best sell his fights. Showing vulnerability wasn’t really something that would help him in the fight game.


    Still. He didn’t have to like it.


    He exhaled sharply, turned away, and paced. "Fine. Whatever. But let’s talk about the bigger bombshell you dropped. What do you mean, I’m an anomaly? I thought being Systemless was just a screw-up. Now you’re telling me the System itself is gonna come after me?"


    Erasmus folded his hands in front of him, his expression unreadable. "You’re not just outside the System, Theo. You’re a deviation. The Exo-Genesis is designed to assimilate everything into its structured existence. Everyone is categorized, assigned a role, given a progression path. But you? You don’t fit. The System recognizes you as an aberration, an unknown variable. And the System abhors anomalies."


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    Theo’s stomach twisted. His mind reeled, grasping for something solid in the face of the new information. "So what? I’m like a bug in its code?"


    Erasmus nodded. "Precisely. And bugs get patched—one way or another. The longer you survive, the more you interfere with its efficiency. It will escalate its responses."


    Theo swallowed, the weight of those words pressing down on him like lead. This wasn’t just about fighting monsters, surviving the wilderness, or even dealing with Erasmus’s relentless mind games. This was the entire System deciding he was a problem that needed fixing.


    Or erasing.


    His bravado cracked, just a little. He collapsed onto a nearby stool, rubbing his face. "So what do I do? Just hide in your lab forever?"


    Erasmus snorted. "You? Sit still? Unlikely. No, you have a choice. You can try to stay beneath its notice, avoid confrontation, keep a low profile. Or… Defy it. Prove that you are more than an error. This will likely make you a target. The system will attempt to sharpen its blades on you, but you will be useful for it in that regard. These are just theories, however."


    Theo looked up, searching Erasmus’s face for any sign of encouragement. There was none. Just cold, clinical truth. The workshop hummed with quiet machinery, but even that felt distant, insignificant compared to the decision pressing on his chest.


    But Theo already knew his answer.


    Theo rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as he straightened. “Nah. That’s not me. I don’t hide. Fighting’s in my blood. Even when the odds are crap, I find a way.”


    For the first time, Erasmus’s lips twitched—not quite a smile, but the ghost of one. “Predictable. Almost disappointingly so."


    Theo scoffed. “You almost sounded impressed.”


    Erasmus tapped a command on his console. A section of the wall slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a small, hovering drone. It whirred to life, circling Theo like a mechanical hornet, its eerie blue light sweeping over him.


    “Perhaps,” Erasmus mused. “If you insist on reckless defiance, you’ll need tools to even the odds.”


    The drone hovered closer, and Theo batted it away with a glare. “Oh, so now you care about my well-being? Or would you just be disappointed you wasted your time?”


    Erasmus arched his brow. “I care about efficiency. You dying would be a waste. And frankly, watching the System squirm is my kind of entertainment.”


    The drone finished its scan and zipped toward the workbench, retrieving a small, black device pulsing faintly with the glow of the minerals Theo had been sent to retrieve earlier. It darted behind him before he could react.


    A monotone voice instructed, “Look forward.”


    Theo turned his head anyway, suspicious, but before he could get a word out, a wave of pressure slammed into his spine. Every muscle locked. His breath hitched as a sharp, searing pain lanced through his back.


    Erasmus, unsurprised, merely watched. Which was almost reassuring. Almost.


    Then, just as suddenly, a cool sensation spread across his back, numbing the pain. Something thin and fibrous—like liquid spider silk—stitched itself over his body, bonding seamlessly with his skin. Theo gasped as the sensation settled, leaving him feeling… strangely weightless.


    Erasmus finally pushed off his seat and approached. “That’s a nano-fibre defence mesh. Think of it as armour. It won’t make you invincible, but it’ll keep you alive long enough to make mistakes. You’ll need to learn how to use it properly. Your heritage allows you to use this. It would kill a normal human. I’d explain why, but I’d sooner attempt to teach particle physics to a satsuma.”


    Theo staggered as the paralysis released him with a tremor echoing through his body. He shot Erasmus a glare. “You could’ve given me a heads-up, you sadistic berk.”


    Erasmus smirked, unrepentant. “I need some kind of payment for this masterwork. Your anguish sustains me. By the way, don’t do anything tonight, just go to your room—it’s at the end of the hall, to the left. That thing will need to stabilize overnight.”


    Theo groaned, rubbing his arms. He could barely feel the mesh, yet somehow, he knew it was there, integrated into him. He looked up at Erasmus with a rare look of sincerity. “Thank you Raz. I genuinely appreciate this.”


    Erasmus stared blankly at Theo, discomfort flickering across his face before he offered a short nod and slipped out of the room without another word.


    As the workshop doors slid shut behind him, Theo exhaled, a slow breath that did little to ease the weight settling on his shoulders. The path he’d chosen stretched before him, vast and incomprehensible, yet beneath the enormity of it all, a strange excitement coiled in his chest.


    He slunk out of the workshop and found the door leading to his quarters. The small bedroom was nothing remarkable—just a bed that looked deceptively comfortable and a storage cupboard tucked into the corner. Practical. Bare. A reminder that luxury was a relic of the past.


    Theo eased onto the mattress, carefully lying on his front to avoid disturbing the device fused into his back. It didn’t hurt—at least, not in the way he expected—but he was hyper-aware of it, a foreign presence beneath his skin. Better to be cautious.


    Exhaustion gnawed at him, the lingering aches from his earlier ordeal pressing into every fibre of his body. Sleep should have come easily. It didn’t. His mind refused to still, buzzing with anticipation as he thought about the future—the power his new armour might bring, the battles ahead, the unknown.


    He closed his eyes, waiting for rest to take him. But even in the quiet, his pulse thrummed with something new. Not fear. Not regret.


    Excitement.