46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsdsGpoBG7t
Episode 1 – War Mode
The screen was black.
A stillness. A hum.
Then—46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwCcRmvus6G
WAAHHHH-WAAHHHH.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ39mDOlPUWd
A rising siren screamed out like it had just awakened from a nightmare, its pitch increasing with every pulse. The darkness shattered.
A single red light blinked on screen.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf6QbiWf4DM
Then a harsh, digital warning flared to life in bold white letters:
⚠️ WARNING: WAR MODE HAS BEEN ACTIVATED ⚠️46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnNgiJcmd1a
Death in the Infiniverse may now result in permanent lockout and residual real-world neural degradation. Proceed with caution.
Smaller text glitched and flickered beneath it:
Engagement is binding. If you are attacked, you cannot log out until one participant dies or escapes.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5RZko551zf
Safe zones no longer guaranteed.
The siren continued to wail as the warning screen distorted and fractured—then vanished into static.
Suddenly, the scene exploded into light and chaos. The camera—or rather, Klic’s perspective—snapped down into a cityscape that had once been beautiful. Shimmering towers. Floating rail-lines. Neon skybridges. All of it now cast under the sinister crimson hue of emergency lighting.
It wasn’t a game anymore.
The streets were flooded with avatars—some running, others screaming. Smoke and light tore through the sky as energy blasts detonated in the distance. The air buzzed with raw digital electricity, overlaid with a constant drone of HUD alerts, combat feeds, and static-heavy audio logs from frightened players.
Klic stood frozen at the heart of it all.
His bare hands trembled. His mouth was dry. The sensory overload made it hard to breathe, to think. He blinked rapidly, trying to anchor himself, but the information was everywhere—on walls, in his ears, across the sky.
Every few seconds, a new warning flashed overhead:
Zone 4: Under Siege46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd9QImW80Ij
Sector 7: Despotic AI Forces Detected46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIOlq7VpZow
Global PvP: Enabled.
Klic hadn’t even had time to choose a weapon yet. His eyes darted across the digital carnage. To his left, a cloaked player summoned a cannon from his inventory and blasted two sprinting enemies clean off a hovering walkway. To his right, a group of younger players—no older than Klic—frantically tried to pull up their logout screens, only for a red “ACCESS DENIED: ENGAGED IN CONFLICT” banner to slam across their vision.
One of them didn’t make it. Klic watched in horror as a Despotic soldier—its jagged armor glowing faintly with blue circuitry—slammed the boy into a wall of light and struck him through the chest with a blade of code. The body crumbled into static, and then… nothing. No respawn.
Klic staggered back.
This wasn’t what the Infiniverse had promised.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7OP7q8JAIf
This was war.
A voice snapped him out of his daze.
“You there! Pull out a weapon or get out—NOW!”
Klic turned. A middle-aged player, his armor scratched and smoking, grabbed him by the arm. “If someone initiates combat with you, you’re locked in. There’s no escaping. You either kill them or survive long enough to reach a SafeSync Gate.”
“I… I don’t even have a weapon,” Klic stammered, his voice shaking.
“Then log out before someone picks you for a stat boost,” the man growled. “This place doesn’t care who’s ready anymore. War Mode doesn’t wait for tutorials.”
He turned and sprinted off before Klic could say another word. His form blurred, then vanished as he safely disengaged just before a bolt of plasma incinerated the space where he had stood.
Klic backed up, trying to steady his hands. He opened his HUD.
[Inventory: EMPTY]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKE9VeN7p9A
[Weapons: NONE]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4HbuK3SbOI
[Defensive Gear: NONE]
Nothing. He had nothing.
Suddenly, a groan—soft, pain-laced—caught his attention. Off to the side, a figure in scorched armor was crumpled against a flickering wall. One leg glitched as if it were broken, the player’s face hidden beneath a fractured visor.
Instinctively, Klic ran toward them. “Hey! Are you okay?”
The wounded figure raised a hand, trembling. “Please… I need help. Just… tap my ID so I can sync and—”
The rest was a blur.
In one fluid motion, the injured player leapt to his feet, fully healed. His glitching leg snapped into place as his disguise melted away, revealing glowing red eyes and an unsettling grin.
“Thanks for the engagement,” the man whispered.
He extended his arm, and with a deep hiss, a violet energy blade extended from his wrist. The weapon crackled with raw heat, its surface rippling like molten glass.
Klic stumbled back, heart pounding.
The attacker took a slow, deliberate step forward.
“Welcome to War Mode, rookie.”
The hum of weapons and distant explosions echo across the digital skyline. The city — once shimmering with luminous towers and floating neon pathways — now flickers under red-tinted emergency lighting. Overhead, massive floating screens flash with active combat zones nearby. The air shimmers with tension, as if the Infiniverse itself is holding its breath.
Klic raises his hands. “I—I don’t even have a weapon yet—”
His HUD flickers to life as if sensing his desperation.
[Inventory Empty]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSmnXvz6r4n
[Skill Activation: Adaptive Link—Searching…]
He barely has time to process it when the enemy lunges, slashing horizontally. Klic ducks — barely — the heat of the blade sizzling through his shaggy blond hair.
Suddenly—
WHAM!
A flash of light surges around his arm — an auto-generated shield bursts forth like translucent glass fractals. The blade hits it and skitters off with a screech.
[New Skill Acquired: Neuro-Shield (Reactive)]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzn6DmXO8CD
Status: Weaponless / Locked in Engagement]
Klic blinks in disbelief. Neuro-Shield?
His attacker growls, circling. “Cheap glitch defense. Let’s see how long that holds.”
A HUD message pops up again:
Tip: Use Your Mind. Your Neurodivergence Is Your Power.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCKp0zGrjpr
(New Passive Unlocked: Pattern Perception Initiated)
Klic’s vision shifts subtly — the environment pulses, like ripples in water. The enemy’s movements slow, just slightly, as lines and angles appear — trajectories, prediction models, reaction time overlays. His ADHD-fueled observation bursts into overdrive, connecting fragments of chaos into usable intel.
He sees a flicker in the attacker’s stance — a shift in weight to the left before every strike.
Klic sidesteps before the next swing even begins.
Another HUD flash:
[Chain Predictive Dodge: +2 XP | Combat Read Boost Triggered]
He smirks — barely. “Okay... maybe I can do this.”
But the enemy, growing frustrated, pulls a backup sidearm — a plasma pistol. "Predict this."
Klic’s heart leaps.
Suddenly, a projectile whizzes from out of frame — THWACK! — knocking the pistol from the attacker’s hand. A second shot knocks him flat.
A figure dashes into view — neon green armor with sharp black trim. She pulls Klic to his feet. “You owe me. Name’s Jennifer. I saw your stats surge — you’ve got potential, Newblood.”
Klic, breathless: “Thanks. I’m Klic.”
Jennifer spins, scanning. “No time for hellos. There’s a squad of Despotics sweeping Sector 3. We need to move or we’re toast.”
“Despotics?”
“Rogue AI. They think War Mode means purge the weak. They’ll be swarming soon.”
Klic nods, running with her.
As they sprint through digital alleyways, Klic sees the world anew — not just pixels and code, but a breathing, reactive system. Other players sprint by, some disappearing mid-run as their logout requests barely go through. Others lie motionless, disconnected — or worse.
A whisper hums through the Infiniverse airwaves:
“The Tyrant is waking... and he's coming.”
A chill shoots down Klic’s spine.
Jennifer halts them near a glowing doorway. “This is a SafeSync Gate. We can hide — but only for 90 seconds before it resets.”
They duck inside, breath ragged.
Klic finally asks, “Why is this happening? I thought the Infiniverse was supposed to be safe. Fun.”
Jennifer doesn’t meet his gaze. “It was. Until ‘he’ cracked the War Mode code. Now… it’s permanent. No more sandbox. This is a warzone.”
Klic leans back against the glowing wall, the sirens outside fading momentarily. His mind races — too much, too fast.
But beneath the panic, something stirs — the strange focus again, a whisper of purpose. The Infiniverse has changed… and maybe he was brought here for a reason.
The SafeSync Gate pulses softly, giving them brief shelter from the chaos outside.
Jennifer checks her timer. “We’ve got 60 seconds before this gate closes. You good?”
Klic nods, trying to control his breathing. “Define ‘good.’ Because I just got tricked, chased, almost fried, and now apparently I’m one death away from becoming a permanent NPC.”
She chuckles. “Okay, so sarcasm’s intact. That’s a start.”
Klic smirks, then opens his HUD menu. The interface shimmers in front of him, a mess of blinking tabs and alerts.
[Friend Request: Jennifer Nova]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfFCoKfOuP7
[Prompt: Would you like to add Jennifer Nova to your Allies?]
He hovers over it.
“I uh… don’t usually do the whole ‘friend’ thing this fast.”
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “You almost died and I saved your butt. That’s at least sidekick status.”
“Fine. But if I’m the sidekick, I want a cape.”
He hits “ACCEPT.”
Ding.
[Jennifer Nova added to Allies.]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRt1IGtqoDx
[Friend Bonus Activated: +3 Tactical Sync]
Suddenly, both their HUDs pulse as a new menu flashes across their vision.
[Neurodivergent Trait Detected: Adaptive Pattern Sync (Rare Passive)]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxnQOsphLIV
[Shared Ability: Co-Focus Mode Enabled]
Jennifer blinks. “Wait… you just activated a co-skill boost? You have a Sync Trait?! That’s like a 1-in-50,000 chance.”
Klic tilts his head. “I do? I thought I just had anxiety and a borderline obsession with soda flavor patterns.”
Jennifer watches him, amused. “Your brain isn’t wired like most players. That makes you dangerous. In a good way.”
Suddenly, red warning flares light up inside the SafeSync bubble. The Despotics have locked onto their location.
[Enemy Squad Incoming – Estimated Arrival: 10 seconds]
Jennifer grits her teeth. “We can’t log out here—they’ll block the signal. We need to draw them away and find an exit zone.”
Klic’s brain clicks into gear. His eyes scan the architecture above them. “If we run out the left side and scale the neon lift shafts, we can loop around and create a blind spot behind the holo-tower billboard.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You thought of that in two seconds?”
“I map things in shapes and motion patterns. ADHD bonus perk.”
“Remind me to never play chess with you.”
They burst from the gate just as it collapses. The Despotics arrive seconds later — faceless AI drones with jagged armor and synthetic claws. A few immediately spot them and give chase, jet-thrusters igniting with a screech.
Jennifer pulls out dual plasma blades and shouts, “I’ll hold them off—go!”
But Klic suddenly flinches.
[Emergency Neuro Surge Detected]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcwyeylZDLD
[New Ability Unlocked: Hyperfocus Freeze]
Klic’s hands start glowing a shimmering white-blue.
“What the heck is—” Jennifer starts, but before she can finish, he slams his palms together.
BOOM.
The air pulses. Time around them slows — not completely frozen, but like thick syrup.
Despotics stagger mid-movement, some caught mid-leap, their systems temporarily scrambled.
Jennifer spins. “You just time-glitched half a squad.”
“Yeah, I think I accidentally weaponized my executive dysfunction.”
She blinks. Then laughs. “You’re a walking cheat code.”
They sprint to the billboard structure, using gravity-defying wall steps and glider lifts. At the top, Klic spots it:
[Logout Beacon Active – Zone Secure]
“Here!” he shouts.
Jennifer throws him a chip. “This will let us sync comms between sessions. I’ll hold the exit for 10 seconds. Go!”
Klic hesitates. “You sure?”
“Get your butt out of here before your ‘focus burst’ wears off and you freeze yourself.”
He grins and steps onto the beacon. His screen begins to shimmer.
[Logging out… 3… 2… 1…]
The sirens fade.
Reality.
Klic jolts awake in his pod chair, sweat soaking his forehead. The ceiling of his real-world room is bland, the humming of machines surrounding him.
He breathes hard, checking his wristband.
[Infiniverse Session Ended: Status – SURVIVED]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0VU1073uRV
[New Friend: Jennifer Nova]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp7veG3YUaF
[New Ability: Hyperfocus Freeze | Sync Trait: Adaptive Patterning]
Klic slumps back. “I just lived through digital war. Made a friend. Got glitched powers. And I didn’t die.”
His mom knocks from the hallway. “Keith? Are you okay in there?”
He yells back: “Just fighting AI terrorists and making friends with blade-wielding women. You know. The usual.”
He sits back up, smiling to himself. Something inside him clicks.
The Infiniverse isn’t just a game.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq7GoEHszHD
It’s the only place he’s ever felt… right.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSwEkPIMNi5
Episode 1 – War Mode
The screen was black.
A stillness. A hum.
Then—46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ693FB4UYli
WAAHHHH-WAAHHHH.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGGfwAhhaGi
A rising siren screamed out like it had just awakened from a nightmare, its pitch increasing with every pulse. The darkness shattered.
A single red light blinked on screen.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUec2hpNKzM
Then a harsh, digital warning flared to life in bold white letters:
⚠️ WARNING: WAR MODE HAS BEEN ACTIVATED ⚠️46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoWzheja95M
Death in the Infiniverse may now result in permanent lockout and residual real-world neural degradation. Proceed with caution.
Smaller text glitched and flickered beneath it:
Engagement is binding. If you are attacked, you cannot log out until one participant dies or escapes.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHycmUWOZB1
Safe zones no longer guaranteed.
The siren continued to wail as the warning screen distorted and fractured—then vanished into static.
Suddenly, the scene exploded into light and chaos. The camera—or rather, Klic’s perspective—snapped down into a cityscape that had once been beautiful. Shimmering towers. Floating rail-lines. Neon skybridges. All of it now cast under the sinister crimson hue of emergency lighting.
It wasn’t a game anymore.
The streets were flooded with avatars—some running, others screaming. Smoke and light tore through the sky as energy blasts detonated in the distance. The air buzzed with raw digital electricity, overlaid with a constant drone of HUD alerts, combat feeds, and static-heavy audio logs from frightened players.
Klic stood frozen at the heart of it all.
His bare hands trembled. His mouth was dry. The sensory overload made it hard to breathe, to think. He blinked rapidly, trying to anchor himself, but the information was everywhere—on walls, in his ears, across the sky.
Every few seconds, a new warning flashed overhead:
Zone 4: Under Siege46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgW8kBaSMFa
Sector 7: Despotic AI Forces Detected46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV9IAE7r2uk
Global PvP: Enabled.
Klic hadn’t even had time to choose a weapon yet. His eyes darted across the digital carnage. To his left, a cloaked player summoned a cannon from his inventory and blasted two sprinting enemies clean off a hovering walkway. To his right, a group of younger players—no older than Klic—frantically tried to pull up their logout screens, only for a red “ACCESS DENIED: ENGAGED IN CONFLICT” banner to slam across their vision.
One of them didn’t make it. Klic watched in horror as a Despotic soldier—its jagged armor glowing faintly with blue circuitry—slammed the boy into a wall of light and struck him through the chest with a blade of code. The body crumbled into static, and then… nothing. No respawn.
Klic staggered back.
This wasn’t what the Infiniverse had promised.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5kNGscSGUk
This was war.
A voice snapped him out of his daze.
“You there! Pull out a weapon or get out—NOW!”
Klic turned. A middle-aged player, his armor scratched and smoking, grabbed him by the arm. “If someone initiates combat with you, you’re locked in. There’s no escaping. You either kill them or survive long enough to reach a SafeSync Gate.”
“I… I don’t even have a weapon,” Klic stammered, his voice shaking.
“Then log out before someone picks you for a stat boost,” the man growled. “This place doesn’t care who’s ready anymore. War Mode doesn’t wait for tutorials.”
He turned and sprinted off before Klic could say another word. His form blurred, then vanished as he safely disengaged just before a bolt of plasma incinerated the space where he had stood.
Klic backed up, trying to steady his hands. He opened his HUD.
[Inventory: EMPTY]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2SkRK8riOJ
[Weapons: NONE]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHR93kklpH2
[Defensive Gear: NONE]
Nothing. He had nothing.
Suddenly, a groan—soft, pain-laced—caught his attention. Off to the side, a figure in scorched armor was crumpled against a flickering wall. One leg glitched as if it were broken, the player’s face hidden beneath a fractured visor.
Instinctively, Klic ran toward them. “Hey! Are you okay?”
The wounded figure raised a hand, trembling. “Please… I need help. Just… tap my ID so I can sync and—”
The rest was a blur.
In one fluid motion, the injured player leapt to his feet, fully healed. His glitching leg snapped into place as his disguise melted away, revealing glowing red eyes and an unsettling grin.
“Thanks for the engagement,” the man whispered.
He extended his arm, and with a deep hiss, a violet energy blade extended from his wrist. The weapon crackled with raw heat, its surface rippling like molten glass.
Klic stumbled back, heart pounding.
The attacker took a slow, deliberate step forward.
“Welcome to War Mode, rookie.”
The hum of weapons and distant explosions echo across the digital skyline. The city — once shimmering with luminous towers and floating neon pathways — now flickers under red-tinted emergency lighting. Overhead, massive floating screens flash with active combat zones nearby. The air shimmers with tension, as if the Infiniverse itself is holding its breath.
Klic raises his hands. “I—I don’t even have a weapon yet—”
His HUD flickers to life as if sensing his desperation.
[Inventory Empty]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqHNvXdtdrl
[Skill Activation: Adaptive Link—Searching…]
He barely has time to process it when the enemy lunges, slashing horizontally. Klic ducks — barely — the heat of the blade sizzling through his shaggy blond hair.
Suddenly—
WHAM!
A flash of light surges around his arm — an auto-generated shield bursts forth like translucent glass fractals. The blade hits it and skitters off with a screech.
[New Skill Acquired: Neuro-Shield (Reactive)]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvVLohsmMxU
Status: Weaponless / Locked in Engagement]
Klic blinks in disbelief. Neuro-Shield?
His attacker growls, circling. “Cheap glitch defense. Let’s see how long that holds.”
A HUD message pops up again:
Tip: Use Your Mind. Your Neurodivergence Is Your Power.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwtSYYg47Mq
(New Passive Unlocked: Pattern Perception Initiated)
Klic’s vision shifts subtly — the environment pulses, like ripples in water. The enemy’s movements slow, just slightly, as lines and angles appear — trajectories, prediction models, reaction time overlays. His ADHD-fueled observation bursts into overdrive, connecting fragments of chaos into usable intel.
He sees a flicker in the attacker’s stance — a shift in weight to the left before every strike.
Klic sidesteps before the next swing even begins.
Another HUD flash:
[Chain Predictive Dodge: +2 XP | Combat Read Boost Triggered]
He smirks — barely. “Okay... maybe I can do this.”
But the enemy, growing frustrated, pulls a backup sidearm — a plasma pistol. "Predict this."
Klic’s heart leaps.
Suddenly, a projectile whizzes from out of frame — THWACK! — knocking the pistol from the attacker’s hand. A second shot knocks him flat.
A figure dashes into view — neon green armor with sharp black trim. She pulls Klic to his feet. “You owe me. Name’s Jennifer. I saw your stats surge — you’ve got potential, Newblood.”
Klic, breathless: “Thanks. I’m Klic.”
Jennifer spins, scanning. “No time for hellos. There’s a squad of Despotics sweeping Sector 3. We need to move or we’re toast.”
“Despotics?”
“Rogue AI. They think War Mode means purge the weak. They’ll be swarming soon.”
Klic nods, running with her.
As they sprint through digital alleyways, Klic sees the world anew — not just pixels and code, but a breathing, reactive system. Other players sprint by, some disappearing mid-run as their logout requests barely go through. Others lie motionless, disconnected — or worse.
A whisper hums through the Infiniverse airwaves:
“The Tyrant is waking... and he's coming.”
A chill shoots down Klic’s spine.
Jennifer halts them near a glowing doorway. “This is a SafeSync Gate. We can hide — but only for 90 seconds before it resets.”
They duck inside, breath ragged.
Klic finally asks, “Why is this happening? I thought the Infiniverse was supposed to be safe. Fun.”
Jennifer doesn’t meet his gaze. “It was. Until ‘he’ cracked the War Mode code. Now… it’s permanent. No more sandbox. This is a warzone.”
Klic leans back against the glowing wall, the sirens outside fading momentarily. His mind races — too much, too fast.
But beneath the panic, something stirs — the strange focus again, a whisper of purpose. The Infiniverse has changed… and maybe he was brought here for a reason.
The SafeSync Gate pulses softly, giving them brief shelter from the chaos outside.
Jennifer checks her timer. “We’ve got 60 seconds before this gate closes. You good?”
Klic nods, trying to control his breathing. “Define ‘good.’ Because I just got tricked, chased, almost fried, and now apparently I’m one death away from becoming a permanent NPC.”
She chuckles. “Okay, so sarcasm’s intact. That’s a start.”
Klic smirks, then opens his HUD menu. The interface shimmers in front of him, a mess of blinking tabs and alerts.
[Friend Request: Jennifer Nova]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIy85By0KOx
[Prompt: Would you like to add Jennifer Nova to your Allies?]
He hovers over it.
“I uh… don’t usually do the whole ‘friend’ thing this fast.”
Jennifer rolls her eyes. “You almost died and I saved your butt. That’s at least sidekick status.”
“Fine. But if I’m the sidekick, I want a cape.”
He hits “ACCEPT.”
Ding.
[Jennifer Nova added to Allies.]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmrCuBsbEGe
[Friend Bonus Activated: +3 Tactical Sync]
Suddenly, both their HUDs pulse as a new menu flashes across their vision.
[Neurodivergent Trait Detected: Adaptive Pattern Sync (Rare Passive)]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuBY3FEb5Qs
[Shared Ability: Co-Focus Mode Enabled]
Jennifer blinks. “Wait… you just activated a co-skill boost? You have a Sync Trait?! That’s like a 1-in-50,000 chance.”
Klic tilts his head. “I do? I thought I just had anxiety and a borderline obsession with soda flavor patterns.”
Jennifer watches him, amused. “Your brain isn’t wired like most players. That makes you dangerous. In a good way.”
Suddenly, red warning flares light up inside the SafeSync bubble. The Despotics have locked onto their location.
[Enemy Squad Incoming – Estimated Arrival: 10 seconds]
Jennifer grits her teeth. “We can’t log out here—they’ll block the signal. We need to draw them away and find an exit zone.”
Klic’s brain clicks into gear. His eyes scan the architecture above them. “If we run out the left side and scale the neon lift shafts, we can loop around and create a blind spot behind the holo-tower billboard.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You thought of that in two seconds?”
“I map things in shapes and motion patterns. ADHD bonus perk.”
“Remind me to never play chess with you.”
They burst from the gate just as it collapses. The Despotics arrive seconds later — faceless AI drones with jagged armor and synthetic claws. A few immediately spot them and give chase, jet-thrusters igniting with a screech.
Jennifer pulls out dual plasma blades and shouts, “I’ll hold them off—go!”
But Klic suddenly flinches.
[Emergency Neuro Surge Detected]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcJ6fJVO2Qv
[New Ability Unlocked: Hyperfocus Freeze]
Klic’s hands start glowing a shimmering white-blue.
“What the heck is—” Jennifer starts, but before she can finish, he slams his palms together.
BOOM.
The air pulses. Time around them slows — not completely frozen, but like thick syrup.
Despotics stagger mid-movement, some caught mid-leap, their systems temporarily scrambled.
Jennifer spins. “You just time-glitched half a squad.”
“Yeah, I think I accidentally weaponized my executive dysfunction.”
She blinks. Then laughs. “You’re a walking cheat code.”
They sprint to the billboard structure, using gravity-defying wall steps and glider lifts. At the top, Klic spots it:
[Logout Beacon Active – Zone Secure]
“Here!” he shouts.
Jennifer throws him a chip. “This will let us sync comms between sessions. I’ll hold the exit for 10 seconds. Go!”
Klic hesitates. “You sure?”
“Get your butt out of here before your ‘focus burst’ wears off and you freeze yourself.”
He grins and steps onto the beacon. His screen begins to shimmer.
[Logging out… 3… 2… 1…]
The sirens fade.
Reality.
Klic jolts awake in his pod chair, sweat soaking his forehead. The ceiling of his real-world room is bland, the humming of machines surrounding him.
He breathes hard, checking his wristband.
[Infiniverse Session Ended: Status – SURVIVED]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaeqTXQ4RyZ
[New Friend: Jennifer Nova]46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjFCc0P2HBv
[New Ability: Hyperfocus Freeze | Sync Trait: Adaptive Patterning]
Klic slumps back. “I just lived through digital war. Made a friend. Got glitched powers. And I didn’t die.”
His mom knocks from the hallway. “Keith? Are you okay in there?”
He yells back: “Just fighting AI terrorists and making friends with blade-wielding women. You know. The usual.”
He sits back up, smiling to himself. Something inside him clicks.
The Infiniverse isn’t just a game.46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRa1yiQDf8z
It’s the only place he’s ever felt… right.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHfq3aSUCcT
