Chapter Text
Rhett woke to the sensation of falling. Not physically, his body wasn’t moving, but the world around him tilted like a collapsing simulation, reality folding and unfolding behind his eyelids. He gasped, lungs rebooting with a sharp intake of air, and the darkness shattered into a blinding white diagnostic grid. Thin lines stretched into infinity beneath him, a horizon made of pure code.
“Rhett? Rhett, hey. Hey. Come on. Come back.” Link’s voice cut through the static like a hand grabbing him out of deep water. Rhett blinked. The white grid flickered, then collapsed entirely, leaving him staring up at a cracked neon sign that read CAFÉ .SYS in half-lit letters. The air smelled like ozone and burnt circuitry.
He was lying on the café floor. Link was kneeling beside him, one hand on Rhett’s shoulder, the other gripping his wrist so tightly it probably left imprints. His face was pale, even paler than his default setting.
“You were out for almost a minute,” Link said. “Your eyes did that thing where they spin like loading wheels. I hate when they do that.” Rhett groaned. “I saw something.” “I know. You passed out and every electronic device in the café started screaming. Including the toaster. The toaster called me a slur.”
Before Rhett could respond, the overhead lights flickered again, once, twice, each pulse stronger than the last. This time, when the glitch hit, Rhett felt it. A wave of static rippled through the floor, through his spine, through the air itself, like the city was breathing in short, painful gasps. Link pulled him into a sitting position. “Okay, we’re leaving. Now.” He hauled Rhett to his feet, slinging Rhett’s arm over his shoulder with no hesitation, despite Rhett being six foot seven and made of long limbs and bad choices. Rhett swayed, vision still full of phantom gridlines.
As they stepped outside, Mythica-9 looked wrong. Not in the usual “this city is a neon nightmare” way, but in a deeper, structural way. The streets flickered between two versions, modern Mythica-9 and an older, cracked, pre-rebuild version, overlapping like they were fighting for dominance. A billboard overhead glitched between a toothpaste ad and a warning screen full of corrupted characters. A passing hovertram stuttered through three different decades’ worth of designs in two seconds. Link tightened his grip on Rhett’s waist. “Nope. Nope. Not dealing with that.” Rhett tried to speak, but a sharp pulse hit the back of his skull. His knees buckled. Link caught him.“Rhett!” Rhett squeezed his eyes shut. “Something’s pulling me.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Link muttered. “Stop getting pulled!”“I’m not doing it on purpose!” The ground trembled. A streetlight bent like soft metal, the lamp head twisting toward Rhett like it was listening. Sparks crawled along the pavement in branching lines, straight toward them. Link yanked Rhett backward. “Okay, okay, new plan. We’re going to the Nexus. Or a bunker. Or space. I don’t care which.”
But Rhett planted his feet. “Link… the city’s responding to me.” Link froze. “By trying to murder you?” “No. By recognizing me.” The sparks at their feet synchronized with Rhett’s heartbeat, each pulse brighter, harsher. Rhett shuddered. “I think whatever updated in me…it’s waking something up in Mythica-9.”
“That’s not comforting,” Link snapped, stepping between Rhett and the glowing pavement as if his smaller frame could somehow shield his friend from an entire city.
Rhett’s vision split again, one layer showing the street, another showing a glowing web stretching beneath it, a neural network of energy lines and forgotten data veins. The city was alive. The city was aware.
And the city knew him. RE-HETT, the not-voice whispered again in the edges of his mind. LOCATED. Link stiffened. “Did you hear that?” “You heard it?” Rhett whispered, stunned. “You shouldn’t be able to.”
“Yeah, well, apparently your supernatural city brainwave is loud enough for un-synced people now!” The ground trembled more violently. Rhett clutched Link’s arm, nails digging in. “It wants something. I don’t know what, but, it’s calling me.” Link turned fully toward him, gripping both sides of Rhett’s face. “Then it can leave a voicemail.” “Link…”
“No.” Link shook him, eyes fierce and unwavering. “You are not going anywhere. Not into the network. Not into the void. Not into some ancient techno-spirit calling your name like you’re its long-lost boyfriend. We are going to the Nexus and we are fixing this. Together. You hear me?”
Rhett did. Through the noise, through the static, through the fracturing reality, he heard Link clearer than the city itself. Another pulse hit the ground. The nearest building flickered into its older form, windows shattered, walls covered in digital moss. The sky rippled like a screen about to crash. Link grabbed Rhett’s hand. “Run.” The city roared. And together, they sprinted into the collapsing neon maze as Mythica-9 awakened around them.