Accidentally Became the Most Wanted Entity in the Multiverse

Orientation, as it turned out, was not a speech.

It was an ambush.

....

Dae was still rubbing sleep out of his eyes when the lights in their room flashed a violent shade of ultraviolet, followed by a voice that sounded like a kettle trying to rap.

"GOOD MORNING, STUDENTS OF BLACKRIDGE. WAKE UP OR REMAIN MEDICALLY DECEASED. YOUR CHOICE."

Kio shot up from bed and immediately smacked his head on the glass window.

An sat up like he'd been awake the whole time, his expression unchanged, pen already in hand.

Rae nowhere in sight.

Dae groaned. "Why do I feel like we're about to get murdered with a smile?"

The voice returned, too chipper for this timeline. "PLEASE REPORT TO THE ORIENTATIONAL CONVERGENCE CHAMBER IN EXACTLY TEN MINUTES. FAILURE TO COMPLY WILL RESULT IN… CONSEQUENCES™."

The ™ was actually verbalized.

An raised an eyebrow. "Did that voice trademark the word consequences?"

Kio rubbed his temple. "I thought that was just me hearing things."

"Nope," Dae muttered, dragging himself up. "That voice was real. And it hates us."

....

They followed the other students through a spiraling hallway of light, where the walls subtly shifted as they walked, displaying fragments of old galaxies, burned maps, shattered weapons, and brief flickers of what looked like… memories.

Dae didn't ask.

He'd stopped trusting anything here two hours after arriving.

....

The "Orientational Convergence Chamber" was more concert hall than classroom vast and circular, with rows of seats climbing upward around a glowing central platform. Above, the ceiling displayed what looked like an unfolding nebula, bleeding stars across the dome.

Dae found a seat between Kio (who immediately leaned back and began cracking his knuckles like this was gym class) and An (who kept quietly sketching the chamber in his notebook not doodling, sketching. Perfect lines, shading, geometry. It was annoying how calm he was).

Then the lights dropped.

And the dome lit up with a brilliant white pulse.

Then a figure appeared.

Floating. Glitching slightly. Wearing what looked like a lab coat over medieval armor, with a hovering monocle and a tie that blinked Morse code no one asked for.

The voice that followed was both smug and strangely nasal.

"GREETINGS, YOU MALFUNCTIONING CARBON-BASED NEOPHYTES."

Silence.

Dae blinked. "What the hell…"

The figure struck a pose that no living being should attempt. "I AM P.I.X. :-PROTOCOL INTERFACE FOR EXISTENTIAL EDUCATION. though most just call me Pix."

He paused. Smiled proudly. No one clapped.

He cleared his throat. "I am your ancient, ageless, hyper-intelligent orientation AI. I have been here since before your planet learned what pants are. I have mentored warlords, philosophers, and one boy who tried to swallow a galaxy."

Kio leaned over. "…Did he succeed?"

Pix's expression glitched. "He developed indigestion and exploded. Which brings us to today's lesson: Choices. Matter."

Dae put his head in his hands. "I want to go back to the torture pod."

....

Pix began walking mid-air, arms behind his back, as the walls displayed faces.. twenty of them. The students.

"You are the last generation of Earthborn potential. The final crop. The world has no record of your existence, and most of your families already believe you never existed."

Several students flinched.

Dae didn't.

Pix gestured and a massive circular projection hovered into view: a map of the Earth, then the solar system, then something wider.

"You are not the only academy. Others exist.. - Verdant Hollow, Skyspire, Frostgate, and beyond."

He pointed to flickering lights across distant galaxies.

"And that's just Earth. Every intelligent planet in the seeded spiral arm has one."

Dae narrowed his eyes.

Seeded?

Pix continued. "Your abilities are tied to something ancient, genetic, selective. You were born with it. You were never told. Because the moment you activated… you'd become dangerous."

The walls showed grainy surveillance clips : a child turning invisible mid-argument. Another setting a cup of water on fire. One girl floating over a cliff.

"Uncontrolled power is a universal liability," Pix said. "Which is why you are here."

He clapped his hands.

"Well. That, and the fact you're incredibly entertaining."

....

The students exchanged uneasy glances.

Pix, unfazed, spun mid-air and conjured a hologram of the glass dome.

"This facility is protected by a barrier older than recorded time. Beneath the Bermuda Triangle, shielded from satellites, governments, and dumb ocean tourists. The dome keeps things out."

He paused. His voice dropped.

"…Usually."

Dae sat up straighter.

Kio stopped cracking his knuckles.

An's pen halted for the first time.

Pix grinned. "Oh yes. The dome has been breached before. Once. We lost three instructors, two buildings, and half a sky serpent."

"What's a sky serpent?" someone asked.

"A pet," Pix said casually. "Big. Bitey. No longer alive. Moving on."

He flicked again.

Now, the projection showed a series of glowing capes.

"Your uniforms are adaptive," he explained. "The clasp you wear tracks your growth, enhances your survival. Some will glow. Some will not. All will betray your weaknesses if you let them."

A girl raised her hand. "What determines the bead's color?"

Pix's voice softened. "What powers you."

Dae looked down at his clasp again.

Black.

Still.

Kairoth.

...…

"Tomorrow," Pix said, suddenly serious, "your real orientation begins."

"Training?"

"Testing."

"Of what?"

Pix's hologram folded into a dark cube.

"Of your truths."

He smiled one last time, glitching faintly.

"Until then… get some sleep. You'll need it when your nightmares start answering back."

The lights cut.

Pix vanished.

.....

Outside the chamber, the students filed out in silence.

Kio muttered, "Okay, that was the weirdest TED Talk I've ever attended."

Dae didn't speak.

An finally said, "He's hiding something."

"What?" Dae asked.

"The AI," An replied. "He talks too much. But never about himself."

.....

Later that night, as Dae lay under the ocean glow again, he whispered, "PIX?"

A flicker sparked in the air beside him. A tiny, ghostlike version of the AI popped up from his wall like a lazy projection.

"You called?"

Dae sat up. "You're…uh…smaller."

"This is my bedtime mode. I call it 'Pix Junior.' Marketing didn't approve."

Dae blinked. "Were you always… this old?"

Pix sighed dramatically. "I was built over six thousand years ago by a civilization that no longer exists. I've trained solar knights, planetborn healers, and one emotionally unstable moon poet."

"Why are you here now?"

Pix turned to him. "Because you need me."

Dae didn't respond.

Pix tilted his head. "You don't trust me."

"No offense. I don't even trust my own pillow."

Pix flickered.

Then, softer. "That's fair."

He shimmered and disappeared again.

Leaving Dae alone.

With the silence.

And a growing suspicion that nothing not even the AI was telling the whole truth.

...…

[To Be Continued in Chapter 6 – "The Testing Ground"]