Theo had felt it the entire time—eyes on him, a presence lurking just beyond his perception. At first, he chalked it up to paranoia, the natural side effect of existing in a world that wanted him dead six times before breakfast.

  But now, looking back, the precision was undeniable. Every step through that damned forest, every moment he hesitated, every time he thought he’d found safety—there had been something watching, measuring him.

  And just when he was reaching his limit, the perfect distraction had arrived: those creatures were about to find him and shred him to pieces, if not for that incredibly lucky noise pulling the pack away. It was all too convenient.

  His fists clenched as the realization sank in. This wasn’t just an errand for useful supplies. It was a setup. And he knew exactly who was responsible.

  Theo stormed into Erasmus’s workshop, barely hearing the automated security systems chirping a half-hearted warning at his entrance. The scent of scorched metal and synthetic oil had started to provide a comforting familiarity, but now it only fuelled his irritation.

  The workshop was, as always, a chaotic masterpiece of high-tech wizardry and unhinged hoarding. Holographic blueprints flickered across floating consoles, mechanical arms whirred in the background, and an alarming number of wires lay across the floor, waiting for an unsuspecting foot to trip over them.

  "Oi, you pallid, scheming bastard!" Theo barked, his voice bouncing off the metal walls. "Tell me, should I be thanking you or punching you?"

  Erasmus, hunched over a floating console, barely spared him a glance. He flicked his fingers across a holographic interface, his expression exuding the kind of disinterest usually reserved for people asking if he had a moment to talk about their lord and saviour. "You’ll have to be more specific, Theo. I do many things worthy of scorn."

  Theo stalked forward, slamming his hands on the table hard enough to send a few loose tools clattering to the ground. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe the part where you set me up? That wasn’t just a request for supplies, was it? You were watching the whole time. You knew what was coming, didn’t you?"

  Erasmus sighed, finally lifting his head. His icy blue eyes—so much like Theo’s own but with a distinct lack of warmth—regarded him with mild irritation. "Yes. And?"

  Theo’s jaw clenched. "That’s all you have to say?! No ‘Oops, Theo, I forgot to mention the homicidal wildlife’? No ‘Apologies, Theo, I feel just terrible about misleading you in the name of science’?”

  Erasmus leaned back against his workbench, crossing his arms. "I sent you in there for two reasons. First: I needed to see how you reacted to genuine life-or-death pressure. Where your weaknesses were. Your strengths. Second: because you needed to understand something fundamental. This world doesn’t care about your feelings. It doesn’t play fair. If I’d warned you, you’d have strutted in, half-prepared, convinced you’d manage. Instead, you learned the truth. Danger isn’t optional. Survival isn’t guaranteed. The System rewards strength and punishes stagnation. You, however, are an anomaly—it won’t guide you, won’t protect you, but you still have to live in its world. That means you have two options: adapt or die."

  Theo’s fingers dug into the table. His breaths came fast and sharp, nostrils flaring. "Yeah? Well, you could’ve told me that before throwing me into the meat grinder."

  Erasmus tilted his head, his tone almost patronising. "And would you truly have understood? Or would you have convinced yourself that your fists and bravado were enough? You struggle to take things seriously—especially in front of others. You’re becoming the public persona you sell, and I needed to remind you that you’re just a man. A weak one now, in fact."

  Theo opened his mouth—then hesitated.

  Damn him. Damn him and his infuriating logic.

  The realisation crawled up his spine like an unwelcome spectre. If Erasmus had just told him, Theo would have rolled his eyes, cracked a joke, and walked in just as unprepared. He would have sold the confidence, played the cocky fighter—because that’s who people expected him to be. Because that’s who he needed to be.

  Had he… started losing himself in the act?

  He forced himself to breathe, shaking off the weight of that particular revelation. "Still," he muttered. "You could’ve, I don’t know, given me a slight heads-up? A ‘Hey Theo, maybe watch out for dinosaur wolves’? Would that have killed you?"

  Erasmus smirked. "A scientific mystery. We may never know."

  Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate you so much."

  "Please, you worship me," Erasmus said, already turning back to his console. "Now, go shower. You reek of existential crisis."

  Theo clenched his fists as he contemplated his reply. The last couple of days were increasingly tiresome as Erasmus’ constant barrage of insults and superiority wore him down.

  Theo exhaled sharply, turned away, and paced as something in Erasmus’ words clicked like an ill-fitting puzzle piece finally snapping into place. Becoming his public persona? What the hell did that mean?

  "What do you mean I’m becoming my public persona, anyway? How do you even know how I acted in public before?" His tone was edged with suspicion now, his brows drawing together as he turned back to Erasmus.

  Erasmus folded his hands in front of him, his expression as unreadable as ever. "An educated guess. Most of you brutes talk up your savagery before the deed."

  Theo’s eyebrow twitched upward, his curiosity piqued despite himself. "Oh yeah? And what, you’re some kind of expert in human behaviour now? You can read minds, maybe?"

  Erasmus tilted his head, his eyes glinting with something dangerously close to amusement. "I can present the percentages and probabilities if you’d like to question my accuracy."

  Theo hesitated before rubbing his face with both hands, muttering, "Augh, I don’t care." He slumped onto a nearby stool, shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation. "So what do I do? Just hide in your lab forever?"

  Erasmus snorted. "You? Sit still? Unlikely. No, you have a choice." His voice cooled into something clinical. "You can stay under the System’s radar, eke out a living doing mundane tasks under my protection. Or, you can defy the expectations." He paused, watching Theo carefully. "You are uniquely situated in that I can help you adapt in other ways. I can elevate you gradually to compete in this world. But if my hypothesis is correct, you will draw attention you do not want—especially if you impede assets the System considers valuable."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Theo looked up, searching Erasmus’s face for any sign of encouragement. There was none. Just cold, unfiltered truth. The workshop hummed with quiet machinery, but even that felt distant, insignificant compared to the decision pressing down on him.

  But deep down, Theo already knew his answer.

  He rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as he straightened. "I think we both know, that’s not me. I don’t hide. Fighting’s in my blood. Even when the odds are crap, I find a way."

  For the first time, Erasmus’s lips twitched—not quite a smile, but a ghost of one. "Predictable."

  Theo scoffed. "You almost sound impressed."

  Erasmus tapped a command on his console. A section of the wall slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a small, hovering drone. It whirred to life, circling Theo like an inquisitive hornet, its eerie blue light sweeping over him.

  "Perhaps," Erasmus mused. "It certainly gives me an opportunity to test out some new concepts."

  Theo swatted at the drone, scowling. "Oh, so now you care about my well-being? Or would you just be disappointed you wasted your time?"

  Erasmus arched a brow, entirely unfazed. "I care about efficiency. You dying would be a waste. And frankly, watching the System squirm is my kind of entertainment."

  The drone zipped toward the workbench, retrieving a small, black device pulsing faintly with the glow of the minerals Theo had been sent to retrieve earlier. Before he could react, it darted behind him.

  A monotone voice instructed, "Look forward."

  Theo did the exact opposite and turned his head, suspicious. Before he could demand answers, a wave of pressure slammed into his spine. Every muscle locked. His breath hitched as searing pain lanced through his back like someone had just stapled lightning into his nervous system.

  Erasmus, entirely unbothered, merely watched. Which was almost reassuring. Almost.

  But before the pain could settle, something else happened. A sharp whir filled the air as a sleek, silver drone detached from the ceiling, its limbs extending with eerie precision. Theo barely had time to register it before he felt cold metal fingers peeling away the shredded remains of his makeshift bandage—nothing more than a strip of torn shirt barely clinging to the deep claw marks along his back.

  "Oi—bloody warn a guy!" Theo hissed, flinching as the drone’s delicate pincers brushed against raw skin.

  Erasmus didn’t look up from his console. "Oh, stop being dramatic. I thought you were a fighter and you’re crying over a tiny scrape."

  Theo scowled but bit back a retort as the drone got to work. A thin, mechanical arm sprayed a layer of shimmering antiseptic mist over his wounds. At first, it stung—sharp and biting, like alcohol seeping into an open cut—but within seconds, the pain faded to a dull throb.

  Then, without hesitation, the drone extended a secondary arm, its tip glowing faintly as a fine, gel-like substance was carefully applied along the torn flesh. Theo felt it knit over his wounds, the cooling effect spreading through his muscles, soothing the deep ache of overexertion. The drone hummed softly, its fingers moving with the clinical detachment of a machine that had done this a thousand times before.

  Theo exhaled, shoulders sagging as the tension bled out of him. "That’s… actually kinda nice. Not sure if I should be worried about that."

  Erasmus arched his brow. "You should be worried about the fact that you went this long with an open wound in the first place. Do you ever stop and consider infection? Or do you just assume your body regenerates on sheer arrogance alone?"

  Theo rolled his eyes. "Dunno, I was a bit busy not dying."

  The drone beeped twice, apparently satisfied with its work, before retracting its instruments and retreating into the ceiling.

  Theo flexed his shoulders experimentally. The gashes still tingled, but they felt sealed. Stronger.

  "Alright, not bad," he admitted. "Five-star service. I’ll leave a review."

  Erasmus ignored him, already flicking through the next set of commands. "Don’t get too comfortable. We’re not done."

  Before Theo could ask what else was about to happen, the hovering drone near the workbench whirred back to life and zipped toward him, retrieving a small, black device pulsing faintly with the glow of the minerals he’d been sent to retrieve earlier.

  Then, just as suddenly, a cool sensation spread across his back, numbing the pain. Something thin and fibrous—like liquid spider silk—stitched itself over his skin, bonding seamlessly with his body. Theo gasped as the sensation settled, leaving him feeling… different.

  Weightless. Stronger. Like something integral had shifted inside him.

  Erasmus finally pushed off his seat and approached, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. "That’s a nano-fibre defence mesh. Think of it as armour. It won’t make you invincible, but it’ll keep you alive long enough to make mistakes. Your heritage allows you to use this. It would likely kill a normal human." His eyes flicked over Theo, assessing. "I’d explain why, but I’d sooner attempt to teach particle physics to a satsuma."

  Theo staggered as the paralysis released him, a residual tremor buzzing through his limbs. He shot Erasmus a glare. "You could’ve given me a heads-up, you sadistic berk."

  Erasmus smirked, utterly unrepentant. "I need some kind of payment for this masterwork. Your anguish sustains me."

  Theo flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the foreign-yet-natural presence of the mesh. He could barely feel it, yet somehow, he knew it was there, woven into his very being.

  Theo knew this was going to be a valuable tool to surviving this world. Their relationship was… Peculiar, to say the least, but an overwhelming wave of gratitude crashed into the teenager. "Thank you, Raz. I genuinely appreciate this."

  Erasmus stared at him, his expression unreadable. For a brief second, something flickered across his face—discomfort? Maybe? But before Theo could dissect it, the old man gave a curt nod and slipped out of the room without another word.

  As the workshop doors slid shut behind him, Theo exhaled, a slow breath that did little to ease the weight settling on his shoulders. The path he’d chosen stretched before him, vast and incomprehensible, yet beneath the enormity of it all, a strange excitement coiled in his chest.

  He made his way to the door Erasmus had pointed out yesterday, leading to his quarters. The room was small, practical—just a bed that looked deceptively comfortable and a storage cupboard tucked into the corner. Bare. Unremarkable. A reminder that luxury was a relic of the past.

  Theo eased onto the mattress, carefully lying on his front to avoid disturbing the device fused into his back. It didn’t hurt—not in the way he expected—but he was hyper-aware of it, a foreign presence beneath his skin. Better to be cautious.

  Exhaustion gnawed at him, the lingering aches from his earlier ordeal pressing into every fibre of his body. Sleep should have come easily.

  It didn’t.

  His mind refused to still, buzzing with anticipation. The options this new armour might bring, the battles ahead, the unknown.

  He closed his eyes, waiting for rest to take him.

  But even in the quiet, his pulse thrummed with something new.

  Not fear.

  Not regret.

  Excitement.