The Lazy Genius With 999x System

> Location: Deep within the glitched sector of the academy's underground archive

Time: Post-reconstruction ripple, moments after Alicia and Jay entered again

Rei sat in a hallway that no longer had a name. It did not belong to Vija Academy anymore. Not really. It was a corridor patched together from corrupted fragments stone walls overgrown with ivy that pulsed like veins, doors leading to nowhere, windows that flickered between dusk and code.

His palm rested on the smooth surface of a terminal that didn't hum anymore. Dead system. Half-formed commands. And yet, he could still feel it breathing beneath the wires— what was left of the real academy, whispering in lost languages he half remembered.

> "You were not supposed to be awake."

That voice again. Not the Observer. Not the system. Something else. Something... older. It came to him like a memory filtered through fog, like echoes of a conversation from a life not fully his own. Every time he tried to grasp it, it slipped between his fingers.

Rei looked at his reflection in the fractured glass.

His eyes glitched, just for a second, blue one moment, silver the next. His own face staring back… overlaid with someone else's.

He wasn't supposed to remember. But he did.

> Fragments. Futures. Falsities. Failsafes.

The words spiraled in his mind like sacred code unraveling.

Jay had always been the anomaly. But what did that make Rei?

He remembered the first reset— not clearly, but sharply. Like a blade across the mind. A moment when the world had collapsed inward, and he had chosen to bear the weight no one else could. Not a hero. Not a savior.

Just... someone who stayed behind.

"If I can carry it… maybe they do not have to."

That was the thought that had once driven him. But now?

Now, Jay was returning stronger— shattered, but defiant. Alicia was rising— heart unshaken, purpose unbending. And Rei...

He had to stop pretending he was just support.

There was something still buried beneath the layers. A final fragment locked behind code only he could read. The Observer had known. It had hidden the truth from all of them— except maybe from Jay, who always knew more than he said.

Rei stood up slowly. The hallway groaned in protest, walls distorting like waves.

He walked forward, one step at a time.

> If this world is rewriting itself again…

Then I shall be the one to write the ending I never got.

He didn't know what awaited him beyond the door at the end of the corridor.

But for once, he wasn't afraid.

_____

> Location: Somewhere inside the dorm ruins

Time: Between simulated day resets, post-Alicia encounter

Jay sat on the remains of a sun-drenched bench that hadn't existed ten minutes ago.

It was warm, artificially so. The kind of warmth that belonged to memories rather than moments. His fingers brushed against the wooden seat, and he could feel the inconsistencies in texture. One side was rough. The other felt like smooth metal, disguised as wood. The simulation was fraying again.

A smile tugged at his lips. Dry. Tired.

"I get it now. I'm the contradiction."

He leaned back and stared up at the fake sky, too perfect, too still. Not even a single wandering cloud. Like the world was trying to paint serenity but forgot that life required motion.

The sky was the kind of thing a machine might design when told what "peace" looks like… by someone who never knew what it meant.

Jay exhaled, the silence stretching long.

He felt like a missing person in his own mind.

There were too many gaps, too many pieces that did not quite fit. His childhood was real. The boredom. The apathy. The academy, the classes, the moments with Alicia and Rei. All of it happened.

But at the edges? At the corners of memory? There were static lines.

Questions he never asked before now rang loud:

Why did he never question the system?

Why did he never notice time looping in the smallest ways?

Why did the dreams never feel like dreams?

He remembered walking into the museum.

He remembered touching that exhibit "The Lonely Core."

He remembered laughing it off. Making a joke about cursed items and ancient tech.

He remembered the voice.

"You are not chosen. You are simply the last variable."

Jay chuckled. "Well, screw you too, narrator."

He stood up and stretched. Even that motion felt too fluid. No ache in his joints, no soreness in his muscles. This world was a script now, running on weakened code. He was both player and played.

Was this what Rei always carried? Was this what Alicia was trying to protect?

Jay didn't want to be the center of the world.

He just wanted to be left alone.

But here he was again, forced into the spotlight, not by choice but by necessity. Because the world was collapsing, and the only thing keeping it stitched together was the glitch inside him.

He could feel it now.

The 999x System, once a joke, once a godsend… now felt like a curse. A ghost fused to his identity. It whispered suggestions, numbers, power boosts but behind it, there was a hunger.

A void that wanted more than victory.

It wanted compliance.

Jay clenched his fists.

Not this time.

He wouldn't be just another puppet.

He'd find Rei. He'd fix what he could. Or destroy what he couldn't.

But he'd do it his way.

Not the system's.

Not the Observer's.

Not even the world's.

Just his.

"Let's see what happens when the lazy one refuses to sleep through the ending."

He smiled, cracked his knuckles, and walked back toward the fading dorm.

Time to start pulling at the final thread.

_____

Jay stood still, his feet sunk an inch into the obsidian tiles of the fractured corridor. The air crackled — not with electricity, but with memories, flickering like faulty neon signs along the walls. The academy's halls were collapsing, not physically, but chronologically, different time signatures bleeding into one another.

He didn't speak, not yet. Not until the ticking slowed.

Click.

Clack.

Clutch.

Silence.

Behind him, Alicia emerged from the distortion veil, brushing strands of silver-blonde hair behind her ear, eyes alert. "It's worse than before," she said, her voice as soft as snowfall. "The layer is decaying faster. Whatever the Observer left here… it's trying to bury itself."