David jolts awake from the dream, his body convulsing as if he has hit the ground after a long fall. He gasps, violently sucking in air, his eyes darting frantically around the dark room. He needs to establish reality immediately. Is he still sleeping? Is the water rising around him? If he is still dreaming, he needs to find the exit door, the glitch in the matrix, anything to wake up.
"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?"
A hand grabs his shoulder, shaking him roughly. The voice is groggy, and irritated.
"Ajith!" David gasps, his chest heaving, sweat soaking through his t-shirt. He clutches his friend's arm, his grip bruising. "I had a terrible nightmare. There was this bracelet... I couldn't remove it. It burned me. I was on fire! I could feel my skin melting!"
David points frantically at his right wrist, expecting to see bare skin, expecting the relief to wash over him.
"Wow," Ajith rubs his sleepy eyes, yawning widely. He squints through the darkness at David's arm. "Since when do you wear jewelry? When did you buy a bracelet?"
David freezes. The air in the room seems to drop ten degrees.
He looks down. The silver band is still there. It glints maliciously in the dim light of the streetlamp filtering through the window. It wasn't a dream prop. It wasn't a hallucination.
"What?" David stares in shock, his voice barely a whisper. "It followed me... It followed me out of the dream."
Panic, cold and sharp, spikes in his chest. He grabs the metal band with his left hand and pulls hard, desperate to tear the foreign object off his body.
"Help me remove this damn thing! Ajju, help me! Get it off!"
"What? You don't want it? Then why did you buy it?" Ajith sighs, clearly annoyed, but he sits up and reaches over. He grips the bracelet with both hands and yanks.
"Ouch! Stop! STOP!" David screams, recoiling.
It didn't feel like a tight watch sliding against skin. It felt like Ajith was trying to pull David's own radius bone out of his arm. The pain was deep, anchoring into his nerves.
"You are ripping my skin! Stop, ah!" David clutches his wrist, tears pricking his eyes.
"Is it painful?" Ajith frowns, fully awake now, looking concerned. "It looks like it's stuck tight. Don't force it, man. You'll hurt yourself. We will go to a hospital tomorrow. They have cutters."
David takes a deep, trembling breath. As soon as they stop pulling, the pain vanishes instantly, replaced by a cool, soothing sensation against his pulse.
Then, the second wave hits him.
His stomach roars. It isn't a rumble; it is a cavernous, cramping demand for fuel. It feels less like hunger and more like his body is cannibalizing itself.
"Are you hungry?" David asks, his voice hollow. "I'm starving. I feel like I haven't eaten in a week. Let's go to a night stall and eat something."
Ajith looks at his phone, squinting at the bright screen. "Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is? It is 2:30 AM. Everything is closed. You won't get anything now."
"I... I can't wait," David stammers. "Okay... then I will go and see if there is anything to eat in the cafeteria."
"Fine. Do whatever you want. I'm going back to sleep." Ajith flops back onto his pillow, pulling the blanket over his head to shut out the madness.
David scrambles out of bed, throwing on a jacket over his pajamas. He rushes down the silent stairs to the ground floor. The kitchen is dark, smelling of stale oil and disinfectant. The cafeteria is deserted, shadows stretching long across the tables.
He raids the counter. The large vessels are mostly empty, scraped clean by the dinner crowd. Finally, in a small casserole dish, he finds a stack of leftover rotis. They are cold, rubbery, and dry.
Hesitantly, he takes one. He tears off a piece and puts it in his mouth. He doesn't even taste the wheat; his body just demands he swallow. As he chews, he glances at his wrist.
He freezes.
In the darkness, he sees a faint, rhythmic glow coming from the metal. It gives him a fright, and he almost chokes on the roti. He looks closer, shielding the ambient light with his cupped palm.
It is a UI.
A dotted loading circle, composed of tiny pinpricks of blue light, is rotating slowly on the surface of the silver. It looks like a computer buffering.
He takes another bite of the roti. The circle brightens slightly. The rotation speed increases.
Input equals energy?
Maybe I'm feeling hungry because of this, he thinks, a mix of horror and fascination taking root. It's using my calories as a battery.
He grabs the entire container of leftover rotis—-nearly twenty of them—and heads for the door. He can't eat here; someone might come down for water. He goes straight to the rooftop.
It is January, and the Hyderabad winter is biting. The wind on the terrace cuts through his jacket, but David barely feels it. The terrace is empty; in the summer, students usually sleep up here on mats, but tonight, David is alone with the moonlight and the water tanks.
He sits on a concrete ledge and starts eating. One by one.
With every roti he consumes, the light on the bracelet becomes stronger. The loading circle spins faster, smoother. It's a direct correlation. He is the power source.
Chew. Swallow. Spin.
Chew. Swallow. Spin.
While he is eating, he hears footsteps downstairs. Paranoia seizes him. He paces around the terrace, hiding behind the elevator shaft, stuffing the dry bread into his mouth. He feels like a wild animal protecting its kill.
After finishing all twenty rotis - a feat that should have made him sick - he feels little strange, buzzing sense of satisfaction. The hollow ache in his stomach is gone.
He looks at his wrist. The bracelet is now bright enough to see clearly without covering it. The silver liquid seems to have settled into a solid, matte finish.
Suddenly, the loading circle vanishes. It blinks once, twice, and is replaced by a glowing icon.
A Wi-Fi symbol.
Wi-Fi? David blinks, rubbing his eyes. Can this thing connect to the internet?
Curious, he digs his old smartphone out of his pocket. It's a basic Android model, slow and cracked. He turns on his 3G data and activates the hotspot.
[ One device connected. ]
"It connects without entering a password?" David whispers, alarmed. "That's... that's not secure. How did it crack my hotspot?"
Fifteen minutes later, while he is staring at the bracelet waiting for something to happen, a message flashes on his phone screen.
[ Your daily data usage limit has been reached. Kindly recharge for continuous uninterrupted 3G connectivity. ]
"What? My data is over already?" His jaw drops. "I had 1.5 GB left! What did it download in fifteen minutes?" It was his months quota of internet, gone.
He looks at his wrist. The Wi-Fi symbol is blinking rapidly, pulsating in red. It looks impatient.
It needs more bandwidth. 3G isn't enough.
"Maybe I should go and connect to the hostel Wi-Fi," he mutters. "It's faster and has unlimited data."
He walks back down to the second-floor corridor where the main router is mounted on the wall. The hallway is silent, the fluorescent tube light flickering overhead. He stands near the router. He doesn't have to do anything; the bracelet automatically detects the stronger signal and switches over. The red blinking stops. The blue loading screen returns, spinning smoothly, hungrily devouring the bandwidth.
Maybe this is really some next-generation technology, David thinks, his imagination running wild, fueled by the adrenaline and the surreal nature of the night. Maybe I will become a mecha user! Like in the animes! Ha ha ha.
Time drags on. He leans against the wall, watching the digital readout on his alien jewelry. Fifteen minutes pass, then thirty. It is nearly five in the morning. The sky outside the window is turning a dull gray. David is starting to feel the crash.
Suddenly, the silence is broken by a sharp beep.
His old Nokia phone, which he uses as a backup, lights up in his pocket.
Beep-beep.
David frowns. "Who is texting me on this number? Only my mom has this one."
He pulls it out.
FROM: Unknown
MESSAGE: Buy a smartphone.
"What?" David stares at the pixelated text. "Who is trying to prank me this early in the morning?"
Another message arrives instantly.
FROM: Unknown
MESSAGE: Buy a smartphone.
David feels a chill that has nothing to do with the winter air. He types a sarcastic reply, his thumbs flying over the keypad: "Are you a Samsung sales rep? Don't you sleep at night?"
The reply comes immediately.
FROM: Unknown
MESSAGE: "I am the bracelet. For further better communication, buy a good smartphone."
David drops the phone on the bed as if it has turned into a viper.
He stares at the Nokia, then slowly, terrifyingly, turns his gaze to his wrist.
The loading circle is gone. In its place is a single, unblinking green dot. It looks like an eye. It looks like it's waiting for a happy reply.
It's sentient.
The realization hits him with the force of a physical blow. It's not just a machine. It's aware.
The first thought he has is to run to the hospital, scream for a doctor, and get a bone saw. But then... he pauses. He thinks of his empty bank account. He thinks of the rejection letters. He thinks of the dull, gray future awaiting him.
And now, he has a sentient alien artifact on his wrist that can hack Wi-Fi and send text messages.
If it wanted to kill me, he reasons, his heart hammering against his ribs, it had plenty of chances. It could have squeezed my wrist off in the dream. It could have burned me when I woke up.
'It doesn't want to hurt me. It wants... an upgrade.'
"Maybe it has hidden functions," he whispers to the empty room. "Functions that can only be activated through a modern interface. But I don't have enough cash to buy another phone."
'He bites his lip. Maybe I should ask Mom.'
David crawls back into bed, his mind a whirlwind. It is almost time for Ajith to wake up for his morning jog. David pulls the blanket over his head, hiding the glowing green dot from the world.
He closes his eyes, but he knows he won't sleep. The fear is still there, yes, but it is being rapidly eclipsed by a burning, dangerous excitement.
Tomorrow, he decides. Tomorrow, I will get some money and buy the latest high-end Samsung phone