Arin remained still for a moment before shifting his gaze.
A cracked mirror hung on the wall, its surface uneven and slightly distorted. The reflection it held was not unfamiliar, but it wasn't his either.
He pushed himself up slowly and moved toward it. The moment he applied force, a dull pain spread through his arm. It wasn't sharp, but it carried enough strain to interrupt the movement. Each step required control. The body didn't resist completely—it simply couldn't support itself properly.
He stopped in front of the mirror.
The reflection stared back.
The body was thin—too thin. The structure beneath the skin was visible along the face and arms, giving it a fragile and unfinished appearance. Even at rest, it didn't look stable.
This body wouldn't last long like this.
Fragments surfaced again, incomplete and unclear. They didn't belong to him, but they didn't feel entirely separate either. As they appeared, a brief headache followed, interrupting the process before anything could fully connect.
Unfamiliar.
Yet not entirely.
Two figures. Voices that didn't remain long enough to form meaning. Then nothing.
The result was already evident.
They were gone.
A faint tightness passed through his chest. It didn't come from him.
The body reacted on its own.
Hunger followed.
It arrived sharply, settling in his stomach and spreading outward. The body wasn't asking—it was demanding. Without intake, the current condition wouldn't hold.
He moved toward the table and picked up the terminal. The interface activated immediately on contact.
Familiar.
He hadn't used it before, but the way it responded didn't feel new. His hand moved across it without hesitation, guided by fragments that surfaced just enough to function.
[ Date: Year 4132 | Time: 21:18 ]
Name: Arin Solis
Status: Civilian (Unregistered)
Age: 13
He paused slightly.
From the fragments, the name aligned.
The same.
More fragments surfaced, followed by a brief strain in his head.
Over two thousand years ahead.
The conclusion formed without resistance.
He hadn't just moved.
He had come forward.
His gaze shifted.
Credits: 12.
Expected.
A notification remained.
He opened it.
[ System Notice ]
Compensation credited: 25,000 (Father)
Compensation credited: 25,000 (Mother)
The meaning was immediate.
This body had been left behind.
Weak.
Unstable.
No support.
Even here—
people still died from weakness.
Additional messages remained unread.
Ren Talvik: Hey… how are you holding up?
Instructor Hale: I heard about your parents. I'm sorry. If you need anything, let me know.
There was nothing to respond with.
Hunger pressed again.
Stronger.
He reopened the balance.
Credits: 12.
Not enough.
Below it—
Stellar Credits: 50,000.
Different from standard currency.
From the fragments, the structure was clear. Credits were used for daily transactions. Stellar Credits held higher value and were not meant for regular use.
Conversion existed.
One to one hundred.
This amount—
was compensation.
The thought didn't stay.
There was no space to consider it.
The condition came first.
If he waited longer, this body wouldn't hold. The instability hadn't disappeared—it had only settled. Without intake, it would return, worse than before.
He needed energy.
And stabilization.
He opened the conversion panel.
[ Convert Currency ]
Stellar Credits → Credits
Amount: 100
Confirm conversion?
The choice was simple.
He confirmed it.
Conversion complete.
Credits: 10,012
Stellar Credits: 49,900
That was enough.
For now.
He accessed the listings again.
The options weren't limited to standard food. This world had already shifted beyond that. Energy-based meals were designed to support the body directly, reducing strain and improving recovery.
This body required that.
He selected a recovery-grade energy meal and a low-tier restorative supplement. Not excessive, just enough to stabilize the current condition.
The total remained controlled.
He confirmed the order.
A soft mechanical sound came from the door. A delivery drone arrived and released the container before leaving immediately.
The system was efficient.
He returned and sat down.
The food was warm. He ate slowly, not out of preference, but because the body couldn't handle anything faster. The pressure in his stomach eased gradually, and the strain in his chest reduced.
After finishing, he took the supplement.
A faint warmth spread through his body.
Not strength.
Stability.
The difference was small, but clear. The strain reduced, and his breathing settled into a more consistent rhythm. The instability remained, but it was no longer immediate.
Still weak.
But manageable.
He leaned back slightly and let the body rest.
The condition was clear.
No energy.
No foundation.
No time.
But the situation wasn't unfamiliar.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow—
he would begin fixing it.