Aftermath of the Simulation
The VR lab was quiet. Almost too quiet. The kind of stillness that followed after something too strange to process had just happened. The kind of quiet that made Klic feel like he was standing in the aftermath of a storm, with nothing but the echoes of the chaos to keep him company.
He tugged at the collar of his standard-issue uniform and stepped out of the simulation chamber, blinking against the harsh artificial light of the reentry lounge. The walls flickered with faint glimmers, as if the building itself wasn’t sure if it wanted to stay awake.
Sirius, his only companion through the simulation, walked beside him with his usual calm composure. Klic noticed the slight strain in the older boy’s posture, but it was nothing compared to the internal mess Klic was trying to piece together.
His chest felt tight, like he was still caught between layers of code—every pulse, every breath, a reminder of the glitch he’d been pulled through.
In the corner of the room, Dan, Jennifer, Ty, and Reya were gathered. They were laughing, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Well, except for the fact that they had just dived into a simulated world full of corrupted data, where Klic nearly lost control of the simulation.
“You guys recover any of the corrupted data shards?” Dan asked, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Shards, you mean the literal ones or the metaphorical ones?” Ty asked, eyes glinting with mischief.
Reya slapped Ty on the back. “You’re such a dork. Of course, we mean the literal ones. How much did you get?”
“I don’t know,” Dan said, flicking a hand dismissively. “I lost track. Everything was a mess. But I think I got a couple hundred gigabytes of something.”
Klic stood to the side, his gaze shifting between the group and the digital readout on the wall. Shards of corrupted data? Was that really what they were all celebrating?
Jennifer glanced over at him for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. There was something in her eyes, something Klic couldn’t quite place—like she was considering something but didn’t know how to say it. For a second, the world felt small, like everyone else had found their rhythm in this weird game of digital scavenging, and Klic… didn’t belong here.
Before he could walk off, though, Ms. Hexley emerged from behind one of the partitions. Her presence immediately shifted the air in the room, like someone had just pressed pause on the simulation. She was dressed in her usual black and white uniform, her glasses reflecting the dim light.
“Klic, can I speak with you for a moment?” she asked, her voice low but firm.
Klic froze, his mind still swirling with confusion and disjointed thoughts. What now?
“You okay?” Sirius asked quietly, almost too quietly, like he was trying to gauge Klic’s emotional temperature. But the words felt… off. Like he already knew something.
“I’m fine,” Klic muttered, trying to shake the unease crawling up his spine. He nodded toward Ms. Hexley. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Jennifer watched him as he followed Ms. Hexley out, but Klic couldn’t read the look on her face.
Ms. Hexley led Klic down the quiet, humming hallway. They passed the VR modules, the hum of the machines vibrating beneath their feet. Klic’s stomach was tight, but not because of the usual anxiousness he’d feel before a class. This was something different. “Are you sure you’re alright, Klic?” Ms. Hexley asked again as they reached her office. She gestured for him to sit, and Klic reluctantly complied. She sat across from him, tapping a few keys on the console next to her.
A holographic display flickered to life, showing lines of code, snippets of data fragments… and then something odd—a block of alien-looking symbols, twisted and angular. Klic had never seen anything like it.
“This… is the corrupted data I found attached to your sim profile,” Ms. Hexley said. Her tone was strange—too neutral for something so serious. “It wasn’t part of the simulation’s programming. It’s… foreign. Outside of the Infiniverse’s system protocols.”
Klic leaned in, studying the code. He didn’t understand all of it, but he knew it wasn’t something that was supposed to be there. “You think someone hacked me?” Klic asked, his voice low. His thoughts rushed like a train in his head. If he’d been hacked, it could mean anything. Anything. Maybe there were other people who had seen the glitch. Maybe someone was watching him. Or maybe he was losing his mind.
Ms. Hexley’s eyes flickered to him, her expression unreadable. “I can’t say for certain, but I think what you experienced was more than a simple hack. You may have triggered something… something ancient. Something that shouldn’t exist anymore.”
Before Klic could ask more, the lights above them flickered violently, then died completely. The room plunged into darkness. Klic held his breath. He wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him or if something else was really happening, but he heard a brief, almost imperceptible sound—like a whisper in the air. He looked around frantically, but all he saw were the shadows. Then, with a soft pop, the lights returned, casting long shadows in every direction. The holographic display had vanished. The alien symbols were gone.
“It’s gone,” Klic whispered, his heart racing.
“Not entirely,” Ms. Hexley said, her voice low. “It’s still in the system somewhere. But it’s like it’s… hiding.” Klic’s throat tightened.
“What did I trigger?” Before Ms. Hexley could answer, a figure appeared in the doorway. Sirius. He stood there, his eyes narrowed, watching them both. Klic’s pulse quickened. There was something off about the way Sirius was standing, as though he knew something they didn’t.
Klic needed air. He bolted from Ms. Hexley’s office, leaving the faint hum of the lab behind him. He made it out into the hallway and found himself staring up at the skyrails through the massive glass windows. The stars beyond the glass glowed, but all Klic could see was the feeling of something wrong crawling under his skin.
And then he saw Sirius, standing by the glass door to the skyrail terminal, watching him. Klic approached, his fists clenched, but Sirius didn’t move.
“What do you want from me?” Klic asked, the frustration in his voice clear. Sirius tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.
“It’s not what I want. It’s what’s already inside you.” Klic blinked, taken aback.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius stepped forward, his eyes darkening with something that Klic couldn’t quite place.
“You’re one of them. One of the anomalies. I’ve been tracking these disturbances across the Infiniverse for months now. You… you triggered something. Something ancient. And it’s starting to awaken.”
Klic frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m just a kid. I don’t even understand half the stuff that’s going on around here.”
Sirius shook his head, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
“That’s the problem. You don’t even know who you really are, do you? There are forces out there looking for you. And trust me, they’re far worse than any glitching wolf you’ve encountered.”
Klic shuddered involuntarily. “I don’t—” But Sirius was already walking away, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
“You will soon enough.” Klic stood there, staring after him, his mind a swirling mess of fear and confusion.
Klic was back in the dorm commons. He didn’t know why, but he’d ended up in the quiet, dimly lit space by the windows, brooding. The glow from the screens felt far too bright, and the soft hum of conversations seemed so distant. He wanted to shut it all out. Then he heard footsteps. Jennifer. She stood in front of him, her hands in her pockets, her expression concerned but still warm. “Hey,” she said softly. “You’ve been… kind of distant.” Klic didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t. His thoughts were tangled in a thousand ways. “I—” Klic started but faltered, unsure of how to even begin. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. Things feel different. Like I’m… shifting.” Jennifer sat down next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, but not enough to make things feel too personal. “I think… something happened in the simulation. Something… strange,” Jennifer admitted quietly. “At first, I thought it was just the system glitching, but then… I saw Sirius. He did something. I don’t trust him, Klic.” Klic finally looked at her, his heart softening. “I don’t know what to believe. I feel like I’m losing myself.” Jennifer nodded. “I’m here for you, alright? Whatever happens, you’re not alone.”
Klic swallowed hard. That meant more than he could say. He wanted to tell her everything—about the symbols, the glitch, Sirius’s cryptic warning—but the words were heavy, like trying to explain a dream that didn’t follow the rules of the waking world.
Instead, he just said, “Thanks.”
She nudged him gently with her shoulder. “You’ve got that look again.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I’m-about-to-go-sneak-into-a-restricted-lab-alone-at-night’ look.”
He chuckled, despite himself. “You know me too well.”
Jennifer’s smile turned serious. “Promise me something, Klic.”
“What?”
“If you’re going to go rogue and do something incredibly dumb and dangerous… let me come with you.”
Klic gave her a long look. “You’d really do that?”
“In a heartbeat,” she said. “You’ve always stood up for the rest of us—even when you didn’t have to. You don’t have to carry this weight alone.”
A pause lingered between them. Not uncomfortable—just real.
Klic finally nodded. “Okay. If I go… you go.”
Jennifer smiled. “Good. Because you’re definitely going. I can see it in your glitchy little brain.”
They both laughed quietly.
But underneath it, something heavier lingered. Something that didn’t laugh.