New York never slept.
It only pretended to, blinking through neon lights and sirens like a tired god that refused to close its eyes.
Ethan Cole stood by the narrow window of his apartment in Queens, watching rain streak down the glass in uneven lines. Below him, traffic crawled through flooded streets, headlights smearing into long trails of white and red.
Another night. Another rejection.
His phone buzzed once more in his hand. He did not need to read the message to know what it said.
Unfortunately, we decided to move forward with other candidates.
He locked the screen and tossed the phone onto his bed.
The room was small. Too small. A single bed pressed against one wall, a cheap desk against the other, stacks of unopened mail piling up in the corner like quiet accusations. The air smelled faintly of instant noodles and old paper.
Ethan leaned his forehead against the cool glass.
Twenty eight years old.
No family to speak of. No connections. No power.
In New York, that meant you were invisible.
He laughed softly, humorless.
"So this is it," he muttered. "This is my life."
At that exact moment, the world stopped.
The rain froze mid fall.
The traffic noise vanished as if someone had ripped sound out of reality.
Even the blinking lights outside his window went dark, suspended in an unnatural stillness.
Ethan straightened slowly, his heartbeat thudding in his ears.
"What the hell…"
He tried to move.
His body did not respond.
A pressure settled over him, not heavy, but absolute, like gravity had suddenly remembered him.
Then a voice spoke.
Not aloud.
Inside his head.
Calm. Cold. Unquestionable.
[Heir verification initiated.]
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
"Who's there?" he demanded.
His lips moved, but no sound came out.
A faint glow appeared in the air before him, assembling itself piece by piece into a translucent screen. Symbols flashed across it too fast to read, lines of data streaming like something alive.
[Scanning genetic signature.]
[Scanning soul imprint.]
[Synchronizing timeline.]
Ethan's pulse spiked.
"This isn't funny," he thought. "If this is some hallucination, I swear I need sleep."
The screen did not acknowledge his panic.
[Primary bloodline confirmed.]
[Secondary contingencies invalid.]
[Sole heir status recognized.]
The words hit him like a physical blow.
"Sole heir?" Ethan thought wildly. "Heir to what?"
The answer did not come immediately.
Instead, another screen unfolded beneath the first, sharper and clearer.
[Welcome, Ethan Cole.]
[You are the final heir.]
His knees weakened.
"This is insane…"
He had read stories like this before. Late night web novels, ridiculous power fantasies where ordinary nobodies stumbled into systems and rose overnight.
He had always closed those tabs with a scoff.
Now one was speaking to him.
The system continued.
[System designation: The Heir System.]
[Purpose: Asset transfer. Authority synchronization. Legacy continuation.]
Ethan swallowed hard.
"If this is real," he thought, "then prove it."
As if reading his mind, a single prompt appeared.
[Daily sign in available.]
Below it, a pulsing icon waited.
SIGN IN
The room felt too small to contain the moment.
Ethan hesitated.
Every instinct screamed that touching it would change everything.
But then he laughed quietly.
"Change what?" he thought bitterly. "My life's already a mess."
He reached out.
The instant his finger passed through the light, reality shattered.
A surge tore through him, not pain, not pleasure, but recognition. Like something vast and ancient had finally turned its gaze on him and decided he mattered.
His vision went white.
[Sign in successful.]
[Calculating authority compatibility.]
[First day reward confirmed.]
The world snapped back.
Sound rushed in violently. Rain hammered against the window again. A car horn blared outside. His chest heaved as he sucked in air like he had been drowning.
Ethan staggered backward and collapsed onto the edge of his bed.
His hands were shaking.
"What did I just do…" he whispered.
The system answered without emotion.
[Sign in Day One Reward received.]
[Item: Presidential Authority Token.]
Ethan froze.
"…Excuse me?"
The words hung there, absurd and terrifying.
Before he could process them, his phone vibrated violently on the bed.
Once.
Twice.
Then it would not stop.
Messages poured in faster than he could read. Unknown numbers. Emergency alerts. Secure communications marked with seals he recognized only from movies.
The television across the room flickered.
Then turned on by itself.
Ethan stared as the screen filled with a breaking news banner in red.
BREAKING NEWS
The anchor's face was pale, her professional calm cracking at the edges.
"We are receiving confirmation from federal authorities that an emergency succession protocol has been activated."
Ethan's heart began to pound.
"This can't be about me," he whispered.
The broadcast continued.
"Due to extraordinary and classified circumstances, the continuity of government clause has been invoked. A verified successor has been identified."
The camera cut to footage of the White House.
Chaos.
Reporters shouting. Secret Service agents moving in tight formations. Officials whispering urgently into phones.
Then the press secretary stepped forward.
Her voice echoed through Ethan's apartment.
"Effective immediately, Ethan Cole has been sworn in as the forty seventh President of the United States."
The world tilted.
Ethan's phone slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.
On the screen, his own face stared back at him.
Clean cut. Neutral expression. A nameplate beneath it.
PRESIDENT ETHAN COLE
His ears rang.
"That's not possible," he breathed.
The system chimed softly, almost gently.
[Authority token successfully activated.]
[Position synchronized.]
[National control nodes acknowledged.]
[Welcome, Mr President.]
Ethan laughed.
A broken, disbelieving sound.
"This is a joke," he said out loud now. "A prank. A dream."
His laughter died as helicopters thundered overhead, their rotors shaking the windows.
A sharp knock exploded against his door.
"Federal security," a voice called. "Open immediately."
Ethan's legs trembled as he stood.
The system spoke again.
[New functions unlocked.]
[Presidential interface available.]
[Romance paths unlocked.]
[Corporate assets pending transfer.]
[Military command authority pending confirmation.]
He opened the door.
Men in dark suits and earpieces filled the hallway, eyes sharp, posture rigid. At their center stood a woman with silver hair pulled into a tight bun, her gaze assessing him in one swift glance.
"Mr President," she said, inclining her head. "We're here to escort you."
Ethan stared at her.
At them.
At the reality crashing down on him like an avalanche.
"…Okay," he said hoarsely.
As they moved him down the stairs and into the waiting motorcade, the city of New York roared back into focus.
People stopped. Phones rose. Whispers spread like wildfire.
Inside the armored vehicle, Ethan sat stiffly, hands clasped together, mind racing.
The system activated again.
[Main quest issued.]
[Objective: Stabilize authority.]
[Reward: Permanent national control access.]
He closed his eyes.
One hour ago, he was nobody.
Now the world was watching him.
And somewhere deep inside, the Heir System waited patiently.
Because this was only the beginning.