The road stretched ahead in broken lines, no longer a clean path but a series of shifting decisions that required constant adjustment.
Arty drove through it without hesitation, his focus split between the pull guiding him forward and the memory of the officers he had just left behind.
They had seen him.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
But enough.
"That won't stay local," he said quietly.
[Confirmed]
He exhaled slowly, not frustrated, not concerned in the way he would have been before, but aware in a way that mattered more, because this wasn't just about surviving anymore.
It was about managing exposure.
"How long before that becomes a problem?"
There was a brief pause.
[Observation risk increasing]
[Pattern recognition probability rises with repeated visibility events]
"So sooner rather than later."
[Confirmed]
That tracked.
Everything was accelerating.
The outbreak.
The collapse.
And now—
Him.
The radio crackled faintly through the ute's speakers, not tuned properly but still catching fragments of transmission as emergency channels flooded with overlapping reports, voices stepping over each other in a way that made it clear structure was already beginning to fail.
"—multiple incidents—"
"—officers down—"
"—suspect involved—unknown—"
"—do not engage alone—repeat—"
Arty's grip tightened slightly on the wheel.
That part didn't need interpretation.
He was already inside the noise.
"Good," he muttered.
Not because it helped.
Because it clarified.
The pull shifted.
Stronger.
Not subtle anymore.
Not a suggestion.
A direction.
He adjusted immediately, taking a sharp turn into a narrower street where the environment changed quickly, vehicles abandoned at poor angles, doors left open, movement scattered but concentrated in pockets that hadn't fully broken apart yet.
Then he saw it.
Two more police vehicles.
One angled across the road.
The other partially mounted on the curb.
Doors open.
No movement.
At first.
Then—
There.
One of the officers was on the ground.
The other—
Wasn't an officer anymore.
The movement was wrong.
Too fast.
Too aggressive.
The uniform still there, but everything inside it already gone.
It was feeding.
Arty slowed.
Not stopping immediately.
Assessing.
The pull spiked sharply.
Not from the feeding one.
From both.
That was new.
"Two cores," he said under his breath.
[Confirmed]
The situation wasn't stable.
It wasn't contained.
And it wasn't something he could ignore.
He stopped the ute.
Stepped out.
The wrench was already in his hand.
The turned officer reacted first, snapping toward him with a speed that was noticeably higher than what he had been dealing with before, the movement sharper, more coordinated, less erratic.
"Different," Arty muttered.
[Elevated threat detected]
Good to know.
It closed the distance fast.
Too fast to treat casually.
Arty shifted his stance, letting it commit to the lunge before stepping off-line and bringing the wrench across in a controlled arc, the impact landing but not ending it, the body staggering instead of dropping.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Definitely different."
The second strike came harder.
More deliberate.
This time the structure gave.
The body dropped.
Still.
He didn't wait.
He moved immediately, dropping to one knee as his hand drove forward with practiced precision, pushing through resistance and extracting the first crystal cleanly, the sensation sharper this time, denser, more defined.
He barely registered it before turning.
The second officer.
Still alive.
Barely.
Eyes open.
Not focused.
Blood pooling.
Arty held for half a second.
Then—
Nothing.
No movement.
No turn.
Too far gone.
He ended it cleanly.
No hesitation.
No noise.
Just function.
The second extraction followed, slower this time, not because he didn't know what to do, but because the pull was different again, stronger, heavier, like whatever sat inside this one carried more weight than the others.
The crystal came free.
Larger.
Darker.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Arty stood, both crystals now in his hand, his focus narrowing as the system responded.
[Core Material — Level 1]
[Core Material — Level 2]
He paused.
Level 2.
His eyes dropped briefly to the body, the uniform, the positioning, the way the movement had been sharper, more controlled, less erratic than the others he had encountered so far, and the difference clicked into place without needing to be forced.
"That wasn't normal."
[Confirmed]
He narrowed his focus slightly.
"Why."
A brief pause followed.
[Subject exhibited pre-conversion enhancement]
[Conversion retained partial structural advantage]
Arty processed that quickly.
"Ability."
[Confirmed]
That shifted the scale.
"So if someone gets… something from the wave…"
[Pre-existing enhancement increases post-conversion yield]
"And makes them worse after."
[Confirmed]
He looked down again, the implication settling in cleanly.
"Good to know."
Arty didn't move straight away, the thought already branching into something else as he looked down at the crystals in his hand.
Not just as objects but as something measurable, something finite, something that clearly did more than just exist.
"These don't just reduce debt," he said quietly.
A brief pause followed.
[Confirmed]
He narrowed his focus slightly.
"They're used for upgrades."
Another pause.
Then—
[Core materials function as energy units]
[Required for ability enhancement and system progression]
That clicked instantly.
"So I don't just collect them."
[Confirmed]
"I spend them."
[Confirmed]
He turned the Level 2 crystal slightly between his fingers, feeling the difference again, not just in weight but in presence, like it carried more potential than the others.
"And higher tiers…"
[Provide increased energy yield]
The system didn't respond immediately this time, it paused.
Not long, but long enough to feel deliberate.
Then he felt it not from the core, from the system itself a shift and recognition.
[Milestone Trigger Detected]
[First Tier 2 Core Acquired]
Arty stilled, that was new.
[Bonus Selection Available]
A faint shift settled into his awareness, not visual, not physical, but present in a way that made it impossible to ignore, like a choice waiting to be acknowledged rather than displayed.
Option 1: Physical Reinforcement — Strength
Option 2: Neurological Acceleration — Speed
Option 3: Deferred Selection
His grip tightened slightly.
Permanent.
He could feel that part without it needing to be said.
"Explain."
[Selection will permanently enhance base capability]
[Synergises with future progression pathways]
"So I pick once."
[Confirmed]
He exhaled slowly.
Not now.
Not rushed.
Not blind.
"Deferred."
[Selection Stored]
The presence receded slightly.
Not gone.
Waiting.
Arty nodded once.
"Good."
He turned the second crystal slightly, feeling the difference more than seeing it, the subtle increase in weight, the way it seemed to hold attention longer than the first.
"Better," he said.
[Confirmed]
Arty didn't move immediately, his attention shifting inward again as a question formed that hadn't mattered before but suddenly felt critical.
"These things…"
He paused slightly.
"Do they all have them?"
[Confirmed]
He frowned.
"All of them."
[Confirmed]
His jaw tightened slightly.
"Animals."
[Confirmed]
"People."
A fraction longer pause.
[Confirmed]
That landed heavier.
"Even before they turn."
[Confirmed]
Arty exhaled slowly.
"Everyone's carrying one."
[Confirmed]
That changed everything.
Not just the threat.
The value.
He slipped the remaining crystal into his pocket, his mind already moving forward again, the implications stacking quickly.
"Guns," he said, glancing toward the fallen officers.
That mattered.
Not long term.
But now—
Very much.
He moved quickly, retrieving the sidearms and checking them with basic familiarity, not trained but not completely unfamiliar either, enough to understand function even if not mastery.
Weight.
Balance.
Capacity.
Useful.
For now.
He stood there for a moment, the pieces aligning.
"If I reset…"
[Non-system items do not persist between cycles at current progression level]
He nodded once.
"So these don't carry."
[Confirmed]
"But they help now."
[Confirmed]
That was enough.
Short-term advantage.
Immediate gain.
No long-term reliance.
That worked.
He weighed the sidearm briefly in his hand before securing it properly, not as a replacement for what he was already doing but as an extension of it, something that added range and control without replacing the need for precision.
Loud.
Limited.
Finite.
Useful.
But not sustainable.
"This is a tool," he said quietly.
[Confirmed]
"Not a solution."
[Confirmed]
That was enough.
He turned slightly, the pull still present, still guiding, but something else sat underneath it now, something quieter but far more important.
A sense.
Not of direction.
Of accumulation.
He paused.
Focused inward.
"How close am I?"
A brief delay.
Then—
[Threshold approaching]
[Further accumulation required]
He smiled slightly.
Not because it was good.
Because it was real.
"How much?"
[Insufficient data for precise projection]
Of course.
That would have been too easy.
He looked back at the scene briefly, then toward the road ahead, the pull already shifting again, guiding him forward, stronger now, more defined, more frequent.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Maybe more.
That's what it would take.
He could feel it.
Not guess it.
Feel it.
Arty moved back to the ute, weapons secured, wrench still in hand, his approach already adjusting again, because this wasn't just about finding them anymore.
It was about clearing them.
Systematically.
Efficiently.
Relentlessly.
He started the engine.
Pulled back onto the road.
And this time—
He wasn't just following the pull.
He was building toward something.
Because whatever sat on the other side of that threshold—
Was going to change everything.