"From another place among the stars," the old man added. "Another galaxy."
'A man from another galaxy,' Prince thought. After living four lives and dying from dog shit, this didn't even crack the top ten weird things.
"People here called him a devil," the old man continued. "Not because he was evil, but because he was disliked. He chased stories and adventures like a starving man chases bread."
That sounded painfully familiar. Like the version of Prince he wished he could be. Brave. Chasing adventures instead of running from bullies.
"And you are his servant?" the boy asked slowly.
The old man looked amused. "Not exactly."
He raised his hand slowly. His skin flickered. Not like a trick of light. It actually flickered, like a projection being disrupted.
The boy's eyes widened. "You're..."
"A projection," the old man finished calmly. "A memory with manners. An AI hologram. An artificial intelligence."
AI. In this medieval world. Ships and swords and fishing villages. And here was an AI hologram in a dimensional pocket cave.
"So you're a machine," Prince whispered.
"A caretaker," the AI corrected. "My master left me here to wait for someone compatible with his will. Someone with the right kind of mind."
He reached beneath the table and pulled out a device. Palm-sized, smooth metal, a small screen on one side and a ring-shaped sensor that glowed faintly blue.
"What is that?" the boy asked.
"A detector. It reads mind-wave patterns. How your consciousness is structured." The AI lifted the device. "My master was very specific about who could inherit his legacy."
"And you want to scan me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because my master was extremely paranoid. He didn't want his inheritance going to someone who would waste it on petty revenge or become a tyrant. Or worse," the AI added with a slight smile, "someone boring."
Despite everything, Prince almost laughed. "He hated boring people?"
"More than tyrants, apparently."
"Fine. Scan me. I don't care anymore."
"Stand still." The AI lifted the ring sensor toward the boy's forehead. Prince felt something warm, like standing in sunlight. The blue light pulsed. Red dots appeared on the screen. One. Two. Three, four, five, six. Blinking steadily.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you match. Your mind-wave structure is compatible with my master's pattern."
The boy waited for the dramatic speech about destiny. About being chosen to save the world.
Instead, the AI said something that hit like a slap. "You are not special."
Prince blinked. "...What?"
"You are not special. Not chosen by destiny. Simply compatible with a specific mind-wave pattern. That's all."
The boy's anger flared. "Then why bother with any of this?"
"Because the inheritance requires a similar thinking pattern to accept it properly.
"You just said that word like it's normal," Prince managed.
"For my master, it was completely normal. He came from a world where such people were common.
The AI continued, looking at the boy like he could see into his memories. "My master loved stories. Adventures. Battles. heroes and villains. And Science..."
"So do I," Prince whispered. "I loved that too. Before everything went wrong."
The AI nodded. "Exactly. That's the pattern we're looking for."
"So any person who thinks like that could qualify? Any person from any world?"
"Many would qualify, yes. The pattern is not unique to you. My master's mind-wave structure matches with perhaps most people from his planet."
'Not chosen. Not destined. Not special. Just lucky,' Prince thought. A coin flip that happened to land in his favor.
"Then what do I actually get from all this?" he asked harshly.
The AI's expression changed. The smile faded. The air felt colder.
"Before you ask for gifts, I must warn you of something important."
The boy's stomach sank. "Warn me about what?"
"You have five to six years," the AI said, his voice gone completely flat. Mechanical.
Prince's breath stopped. "Five to six years to do what?"
"To live."
The boy's throat went tight. "Are you saying I'm going to die? In five or six years?"
"Time is not on your side. You have a limited window to accomplish whatever you choose. After that, the outcome is uncertain."
"Uncertain. You mean I might die. Or might not. You don't actually know."
"I am not authorized to explain the full reason for the time limit. That information is locked behind restrictions I cannot override."
'You can't grab a hologram,' Prince thought, wanting to shake answers out of him. "Then why tell me about the time limit at all?!" he shouted. "Why give me this warning if you're not going to explain what it means?"
Prince forced himself to breathe. Five to six years. His parents were dead. His home was destroyed. And now even time itself was limited.
"Fine," he whispered. "Give me whatever he left. Just give it to me."
The AI stood up and walked to the back of the hut. The air shimmered. A capsule emerged from nowhere, floating. Small, smooth, about the size of a thumb.
He held it out on his palm. "This contains my master's will."
"Will. Like his soul?"
"Not a soul. Not possession or prophecy. Just information. Knowledge. A seed that will grow into something useful if your mind can handle it."
"If I swallow that, what happens to me?"
"Pain. Quite a lot of it, actually."
"Anything else?"
"If you survive the integration process, you will understand what you've gained. If you don't survive... well, then the point becomes moot."
'Walk away to what?' Prince thought. 'Back to the forest to starve? Back to the Navy's hunting grounds?' He thought of his parents. Their last moments protecting him. The Navy's evil. The kids taken away because he was too weak.
"Give it to me," he said firmly.
The AI stepped closer. As he did, the detector device made a quiet sound. A weak beep. The screen flickered. The red dots blinked uncertainly and then faded one by one. The whole device died, the screen going dark.
The AI stared at it. "Battery. Even ancient technology eventually runs out of power."
'Even miracles die,' Prince thought. 'Everything ends eventually.'
The AI looked back at him. "Last chance to turn away. Once you take this, there's no going back to being who you were."
The boy reached out and took the capsule. It was cold. Too cold. Like it had been waiting in darkness for a thousand years. He held it between his thumb and forefinger.
"If I die from this," Prince said, looking the AI straight in the eyes, "tell your master he's an asshole."
The AI's smile returned, faint. "He would have liked you."
Prince didn't give himself time to think. He put the capsule in his mouth and swallowed it dry. It slid down his throat, cold and smooth. For one second, nothing happened.
Then his chest exploded. Liquid fire poured directly into his bloodstream. His knees buckled and he hit the floor hard. He grabbed onto the table leg, his fingers digging into the wood so hard it cracked.
"What... is..." The boy tried to gasp out the question, but his lungs weren't working.
The AI's voice came from very far away. "Endure it. The integration process is painful but necessary."
The pain spread from his chest outward like poison. His skull felt like it was cracking open. His bones felt like they were being taken apart and put back together. His stomach twisted. He tasted metal and copper.
Prince tried to scream, but no sound came out. The world tilted sideways. Everything became a confused mess of light and dark.
Somewhere in the middle of that storm of agony, he heard the AI's final words. "You have five to six years left. Use them wisely. Make them count. My master believed that a short life lived fully is worth more than a long life lived in fear."
Then the boy's vision went completely black, and he fell into darkness deeper than anything he'd ever known.
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