Mondays are always bad. But this Monday seemed determined to break all records.
The first thing Ethan saw when he opened his eyes was the black screen of his digital clock. Dead batteries, the alarm hadnāt gone off, and heād overslept.
"Shit!" He jumped out of bed like heād been electrocuted and ran straight to the bathroom.
He turned the knobs, hoping for a warm, comforting shower... Instead, icy water hit his back like an avalanche.
"AAAAAAHH! Itās freezing!"
The boiler was dead. Again.
He rinsed off what little he could, came out dripping, tripped over his own towel, falling headfirst like a sack of potatoes. Painfully, he got up and started dressing in a hurry.
No time for breakfast, so he ran to the door, but just as he was leaving, he turned the doorknob... and it came off in his hand.
"Seriously?! This today too?!"
Now heād have to call a locksmith just to get back into his own room. Great.
He tried not to think about it. He was already late.
He ran to his bike.
One tire was completely flat.
He stood still for a second, looking up at the sky, as if hoping some god would take pity on him.
"GODDAMN IT...!"
And he started running on foot.
Twenty minutes later, chest burning and legs on the verge of striking, he arrived at FixLT HUB Electronics.
He slipped in quietly, his shirt clinging to his body with sweat, hair still damp, and soul utterly destroyed.
He punched his time card, hoping his boss hadnāt noticed his tardiness, then slid to his workbench and sat down, pretending heād been there since dawn.
Sitting at his workbench, surrounded by wires, tools, and the corpse of a smart toaster someone had brought in with a note:
"Doesnāt turn on. Sometimes sparks. Also sings āHappy Birthdayā."
Heād been trying for over an hour to keep the stupid thing from threatening to set the building on fire.
"Who the hell puts Wi-Fi on a toaster?"
He took another swig of his second Red Bull, which tasted like his stomach was already signing its resignation letter.
Bags under his eyes. Greasy fingers. A faint burn on his forearm.
It was Monday. And he already wanted to break a leg... just to get a few days off.
"A simple fracture, nothing serious. Just enough to not come in for a week," he mumbled to himself while checking the motherboard.
A wire sparked. Ethan flinched back.
"Damn it! Who designed this toaster, a psychopath with Bluetooth access?!"
Just at that glorious moment of despair, the workshop door opened with a violent āting!ā
Ray Carter, his boss, stormed in like a hurricane of coffee and testosterone, carrying his military thermos and looking grumpy.
"Blake. What time did you clock in?"
"Uh... seven fifty-niā"
"Liar. It was eight fourteen. You know what else happens at eight fourteen? A piece of toast burned, a client left, and I felt like yelling at someone. Guess who got picked? Unfortunately, your skeletal ass wasnāt in its place, so I didnāt have to go buy myself a damn coffee. One of these days Iām going to get a diabetic coma because of your damn delays."
Ethan hunched in his chair, staring fixedly at the toaster as if he wanted to merge with it.
Ray glared at him but sighed, more tired than angry.
"Look, I know you donāt have a car, I know this place isnāt Harvard, and sometimes life kicks you in the balls... but if you keep being late, something else is going to get kicked: your bank account."
"Yeah, I know. It wonāt happen again," Ethan said in the quietest voice on the planet.
Ray pointed to a box filled with burned motherboards and many other electronic items.
"Get that working. There are lots of components in there, but if it sings āHappy Birthdayā again, weāre putting it in the oven. Literally."
Ethan nodded as Ray walked away, muttering something about "tech idiots" and "customers with toasters who think they work miracles."
And then he saw the box.
The black box.
The one Ray had left on the table last week with a:
"No idea what all this is, if it doesnāt explode, itās yours."
Among all the junk was a strange artifact. It was a metallic cylinder with no ports, no buttons, not even a visible lid. Just a thin blue line that glowed faintly.
"Looks like a battery... or an alien thermos. Why havenāt I seen you before? (sigh) Okay... letās see what secrets you hold," Ethan muttered, frowning.
For the next hour, heād tried everything: light, magnifying glass, gentle heat. Nothing.
Desperate, he took his utility knife to try and make a small incision on the bottom.
"Come on, just a little slit..." he said, pressing carefully.
ZAP.
The utility knife slipped.
"Shit!" he yelped, shaking his hand. A clean cut on his finger, causing blood to flow along the blue line.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, a wave of heat shook the table. The object rose a few centimeters, spinning slowly in the air. Bright blue lights shot out as if scanning him.
"Wait, wait, waitā No no no! WHAT THE HELL?!"
Ethan backed away, knocking over a box of keyboards. The cylinder spun wildly.
A spark jumped, entering directly into his forehead. After the surreal scene, something even more incredible happened: a blue panel floated before his eyes...
[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
"Welcome, Ethan Blake. Your miserable life is about to get... interesting.
System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution) ā Activated."
"SYSTEM WHAT?!"
"Relax, stud. Itās not what you think. Well... it is. But better."
The voice wasnāt robotic; it sounded like a 20-year-old girl, with the tone of your friendly neighborhood neighbor who always greets you with a big smile.
"Youāve been chosen as a compatible host. Because of your biology, your desperate emotional state, and your attractive level of pity. Congratulations."
"Is a system insulting me?"
"No. Iām just describing your reality. But donāt worry, all that can improve... put your dick in my hands."
Ethan choked on his own air, coughing violently. "Put my what?!"
"Main objective: build a network of female Units. Generate Lux: condensed desire energy."
HOST PROFILE: ETHAN BLAKE
ā¢ Technical Skill: 7/10
ā¢ Physical Condition: 0.5/10
ā¢ Social Intelligence: 0/10
ā¢ Confidence: critical
ā¢ Sex Appeal: "Does it even exist in you?"
ā¢ Sexual Experience: HAHAHA!
ā¢ Lux generated: 0.0
ā¢ Units linked: 0
"Oh my god... Iām dreaming. Iām hallucinating. This is from drinking two Red Bulls on an empty stomach. God, if youāre listening, I swear I wonāt do it again..."
"Iām still here, you know?... this isnāt a dream."
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"Hi everyone! If youāre enjoying the novel, Iād really appreciate comments, reviews, Power Stones, Golden Tickets... If I see a lot of interaction, Iāll post pictures of the scenes in the comments. And if I see many people asking for pictures, we can turn up the heat a bitāwithout being too explicit. So, what are you waiting for? Cheer me up!"