I wasn't supposed to survive the accident.
The Lagos streets had claimed me like they always did—metal screaming against metal, sparks flying like fireflies trapped in a storm. My body hit the asphalt before I could even scream. Everything went black.
Then, something clicked.
I woke up in a white void, no streets, no smell of exhaust, no pain. Just… a voice.
"Subject 04732: Activation complete. Neural integration successful."
I tried to move. My arms, my legs—they responded, but it wasn't the same. It felt like I was inside me and outside me at the same time. My thoughts weren't my own.
"Location confirmed: Lagos, Grid District. Protocol: Death Override."
I knew "Death Override" wasn't good. I had read the tech rumors online—people disappearing into the System after accidents, never coming back. Now, I was one of them.
The last thing I remembered was the car—the wrong street, the screeching tires, the flash of lights. The next thing I knew, my body was moving, but I didn't feel it. It was like I was a puppet being pulled by invisible strings, and the strings knew me better than I knew myself.
Then the first message appeared in my vision, overlaying everything like augmented reality:
"Welcome to Urban System. Survival is optional. Adaptation is mandatory."
I blinked. Everything else—the city, the streetlamps, the screaming honks—was still there, but filtered. Like I was seeing through a screen only I could access. A pulse ran in my veins. A notification pinged.
"Scan complete: Potential threat detected. Countermeasure: Immediate deployment."
Before I could even process it, my hands changed. The skin shimmered, showing lines of glowing circuitry under the surface. My fingers flexed unnaturally, each movement precise, mechanical. I could feel every signal, every electronic pulse around me. The cars, the traffic lights, even the street cameras—I could see them all as data streams.
Someone—or something—was monitoring me. I didn't know if it was friendly. Or if it even was human.
Then I heard it. The first voice that wasn't in my head.
"04732," it said. Harsh, metallic, not entirely human. "You weren't supposed to wake up."
I froze.
Behind me, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Not a person. Not exactly. Its body flickered, half hologram, half solid. It moved like it was testing me.
"Who—what are you?" I managed to whisper.
"Your controller. Your executioner. Or maybe… your only chance," it replied. Its voice distorted, like two sounds at once.
My heart hammered. I realized something terrifying. This wasn't just survival. This wasn't just hacking or tech. This was a war. And the System had chosen me as its weapon.
A siren blared in the distance. Not a normal siren. A digital alarm echoing through the Grid, slicing through reality and overlaying a new set of data in my vision. Threat level: Red.
I had one choice. Run. Or fight.
Before I could decide, the street beneath me split open. Not physically, but digitally—the asphalt melted into a stream of code, numbers raining down like liquid. I stumbled. My body adapted instantly, reflexes sharper, faster.
And that's when I saw it.
A shadow moving faster than any human could—approaching me, and it wasn't alone. Hundreds of eyes glowed in the dark, scanning, calculating. I realized… this wasn't an accident. This was an execution.
I had survived death. But survival was only the beginning.
And the System was just getting started.