NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: Pandora system
"Hah… so this is it," John muttered, his voice hollow, as he stared at his reflection in the cracked, fogged-up mirror.
-[PANDORA SYSTEM ONLINE]-
[USER: JOHN ARBUCHER]
[STATUS: COMPATIBLE]
The image staring back at him was both familiar and foreign. Black, pulsing veins webbed across his pale, muscular body, glowing faintly with an otherworldly sheen.
They snaked up his neck, branching toward his sharp, raven-black eyes, which now glimmered faintly with an unnatural light. His jet-black hair, tousled and damp, framed his angular face, making his reflection feel more like a distorted caricature than his own.
"This body... even now, it looks like me," he said to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief. The structure of his face, the curve of his jawline, and even the faint scar under his chin—every detail mirrored his original self.
But this wasn't his body. It couldn't be.
John clenched his fists, watching as the black veins flared slightly in response, pulsing like they had a mind of their own. "Nanomachines," he muttered under his breath. The word felt heavy, tainted with dread.
He wasn't guessing. He knew.
The substance coursing through him was unmistakable—he had read about it countless times in the game's lore.
The same twisted, nanomachines that excited within corrupted goddesses —Demons.
A chill ran down his spine as he recalled what the game's lore said about the transformation, the way a male body couldn't handle the creation process of an Athea.
The Pandora Core, injected directly into the body, acted as both a gift and a curse. It killed its host first, tearing apart their humanity at a cellular level, and then rebuilt them into something... more. Stronger. Faster. But at the cost of their soul, their mind, and their autonomy.
John raised a hand to his chest, pressing his palm against the faint blue glow of the sigil embedded there. It pulsed faintly, syncing with the rhythm of his heart—or whatever was keeping him alive now.
"It killed this "John"," he whispered, his voice trembling. "And then it brought me."
'As if it was a mind switch.'
This wasn't just some game mechanic anymore. The lore he had casually consumed as entertainment had become his grim reality.
He was living through the nightmare that every corrupted goddess had endured—a process that left them hollow, shattered shells of their former selves.
Yet, here he was. Alive. Thinking. Feeling.
For now.
The thought made his stomach churn. How much time did he have? Was he just a ticking time bomb, waiting to lose himself to the same madness that consumed the Demons?
Or was this some sick twist, a loophole in the system that had allowed him to retain his consciousness?
He grits his teeth, anger bubbling beneath his fear. "Of course, it had to be this. This was Genesis Corp we talking about."
John signed and turned away from the mirror, unable to look at himself any longer.
The veins, the glowing core, the inhuman strength he could feel simmering beneath his skin—it wasn't just a curse. It was a reminder. A reminder that he wasn't supposed to be here, that he was a walking anomaly in a world designed to break him.
But anomalies had their own rules.
"This... this doesn't mean I'm done," he muttered, clenching his fists tighter. The black veins pulsed in response, brighter now, as if reacting to his determination.
"If this body's been turned into a weapon, then I'll use it, that bitch is going to regret it," John muttered, his voice low and venomous.
This body wasn't entirely foreign to him. It was him, and yet... it wasn't. There was something disturbingly familiar in the way it moved, the way the muscles responded to his commands as if they were honed by the same habit he'd developed over the years.
This John, the one who had lived and died in the world of Victorious Athea, had been someone, ambitious and driven.
John closed his eyes, trying to grasp at the fragmented memories buried deep within the haze.
Most of them were gone, wiped clean by the Pandora Core, but important flashes of emotions, instincts, and impressions remained.
A deep-seated resolve. A cynical worldview and a thirst for money and power.
"Just like me," he murmured, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This guy—the original owner of this body—had a personality so similar to his own that it was unnerving.
They both shared the same fire, the same hunger to rise above their circumstances. It was no wonder their consciousnesses felt like they were bleeding into one another.
"But you didn't make it, did you?" John whispered, his voice tinged with a rare moment of sympathy. "The Core got you in the end."
The thought sent a chill through him, the weight of the realization pressing on his chest like a vice.
If the body's original owner—a trained commander—couldn't withstand the Pandora Core, what chance did he have? Was it dumb luck that his mind was still intact, or was this some twisted prelude to his eventual erasure?
He clenched his fists, banishing the thought. Dwelling on it wouldn't help.
"Oh well, whatever," he said firmly, shaking his head with a dry chuckle. "If you failed here, then I'll carry on. After all, I wanted to see this world's happy ending too."
John smirked, pulling his clothes back on. His movements were deliberate, and confident, though his mind remained sharp and calculating. The dull, sterile air of the chamber seemed lighter now, almost ignorable as his resolve hardened.
He knew what was next—his assigned mission. And from the moment he read the briefing, it was clear this was a one-way ticket.
"Suicide mission," he muttered to himself, tugging his jacket into place. He let out a sardonic laugh.
The paperwork he'd been forced to sign practically screamed expendable. The language was cold, clinical, designed to strip away any illusion of personal significance.
The body he now occupied was never intended to last. The Pandora Core was a prototype, a tool for gathering combat data.
Once the mission was complete and the host expired—because, of course, they expected him to die—the core would be extracted, its precious data used to refine the system for the real users.
The main character.
"Yeah, just like in the game," John muttered, his smirk widening. "The central government and the corpos are just as corrupted and evil as I remember."
But despite the grim reality, John didn't feel despair. Instead, he felt a flicker of excitement, a challenge he couldn't resist.
"Go ahead and try to use me," he muttered, his sharp black eyes narrowing. "You think I'm just some pawn to throw away? Let's see who really gets played here."
He had an advantage they hadn't accounted for. He knew this system better than they did. The lore, the mechanics, the twists—they were all etched into his memory. If the game had taught him anything, it was that knowledge was power. And in this world, he held the cheat codes.
"Alright," John said, his voice steady and defiant, the weight of the situation pressing on him but not breaking his resolve. "Let's show them what a stepping stone can really do."
His eyes narrowed as he reached for the system embedded in his chest, feeling the hum of energy beneath his skin. The Pandora system—his only real edge in this strange, dangerous world—was his to command. For better or worse, it was all he had.
"Pandora, activated," he commanded.
The blue core inside his chest began to glow brighter, shifting in color until it turned a deep, vibrant red. From the center of his chest, red streaks of lightning arced outward, pulsing and crackling with raw power.
Beneath the surface of his skin, he could feel the black veins of nanomachines stirring, twisting, and assimilating the energy from the core, merging with his body as the system engaged.
[Authorized]
[User: John Arbucher]
[Nanomachine available: 10 units]
[Choose the function]
The options flashed before his eyes, each one offering a potential advantage. His fingers hovered over the list, weighing each choice carefully.
Summon Token.
Assimilate and Fusion Core.
Without hesitation, he chose the first. The Summon Token was what he needed most in this moment—reinforcements that would ensure he didn't meet a bad ending. He wasn't about to gamble with his life without giving himself every advantage he could.
"Summon token," John muttered under his breath, his voice quiet but filled with quiet determination.
The words triggered the system, and a shiver ran through him as the Pandora core inside his chest activated.
He could almost feel the nanomachines inside him humming, shifting, and gathering energy to comply. The red core pulsed, and power surged through his body, thrumming beneath his skin.
The Pandora System—the second gacha system of the game. It had been designed as a "free" system for players. You played through the story, defeated enemies, and gathered nanomachines to feed into the system. In return, it would grant you a token of a character to upgrade your Athea, making them stronger and more capable.
It was supposed to be simple—almost too simple.
But John hadn't been able to try it until now. This was the first time he was activating the system's full power, and with a deep breath, he steeled himself for whatever was about to happen.
The glow in his chest intensified, growing brighter with each passing second until it became almost blinding.
A rainbow of colors burst out, spiraling and swirling through the air, like a dazzling, otherworldly aurora.
Fancy music echoed in the background, upbeat and energetic, its notes ringing in sync with the flashing visuals—just like the absurdly over-the-top gacha animations that every game seemed to have.
The numbers flashed across his mind: 4% for an SSR, and with a ten-pull, the odds weren't exactly in his favor.
Still, there was a part of him that clung to hope, the glimmer of possibility, the slight hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd land something extraordinary. The light around him pulsed, the energy building, until—
It happened.
The moment of truth.
The brilliance peaked. His body hummed with power, and with a sudden rush, the nanomachines inside him shot out like a cascade of glittering stars.
They swirled through the air, gathering at his side in a perfect circle, before materializing into solid forms. There they were—shiny, gleaming tokens, each one emblazoned with the image of a waifu.
The holographic figures shimmered, their colorful designs almost too beautiful to believe, as they floated gently down into his hands.
The world of the game felt closer than ever, the reality of his situation blurring as the familiar sensation of summoning wrapped around him like a warm, electrifying embrace.
He stared at the tokens, each one holding a piece of power, a piece of his new fate.
It seemed the system was drawing data from every source imaginable, collecting bits and bytes from across the vast database of the Hybrid.
The tokens before him shimmered, almost alive with the information they held. He scanned each one, his mind already making the mental connections.
[R-rank: Model111]
[R-rank: T model]
[R-rank: Idol S]
[SR-rank: Tea]
…
…
Disappointing.
Most of the tokens were nothing more than SR and R-level characters—low-tier, disappointing in the grand scheme of things. They had the same generic poses, the same tired designs that everyone had seen a thousand times.
Worthless, in a way. He couldn't help the brief flash of disdain in his eyes as he mentally tossed them aside.
But then... one token caught his attention. It wasn't just a random token or some half-baked character.
[SSR-rank: Annihilator]
A Rambow rained down, the goddess had blessed him.
"Annihilator!"
John couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face. There, glowing brighter than the rest, was his beloved waifu. The one he had adored for so long, the character who had captured his heart, even in this twisted new world.
The digital manifestation of Annihilator, with her lethal grace and fierce determination, was a rare sight—his rare sight. A gift, maybe even a blessing.
She had followed him, or maybe it was fate. Either way, it didn't matter. She was here, and that meant something.
"Well, I guess I've got a good start," he muttered to himself, holding the token close, the weight of it almost comforting in his hand.
He knew one thing for sure now—this world, this strange new reality, had a lot more to offer than he ever expected.
With that, he turned away, ready for his mission.