Heartless

Ryker sat at his desk, engrossed in his phone. He had been maintaining a distant demeanor with Ranna for weeks, strategically keeping her intrigued. Her interest in him was growing, inching him closer to his objective. He aimed to earn her trust, unravel the system's secrets, and then discard her once she fell deeply in love with him.

While scrolling through his phone, Ryker noticed that Ranna had called him. He gave her a smile, seeing this as a chance to get her even more interested. At that point, he decided to give her a call.

He said, "Hey, Ranna," trying to sound casual.

"Hi, Ryker," Ranna responded. "I was hoping we could meet up."

Detecting her eagerness, Ryker confirmed his plan's effectiveness."Sorry, I can't be there. I have a lot going on right now."

Ranna's sadness was clear, but he knew she wouldn't give up quickly. A few hours later, as planned, someone knocked on his door.

Opening it, Ryker discovered Ranna standing there, radiating beauty.

"Hey, Ranna," Ryker acted surprised."Why did you come here?"

"I just wanted to see you," Ranna said as she batted her eyes.

"Is that alright?"

Ryker smiled, aware that she was falling precisely into his hands. Ryker answered, "Of course, it's fine," and moved aside to let her enter.

Ryker followed Ranna into his flat after she got there. After that, he closed the door and joined her in the living room. She found a comfy spot on the couch, and he joined her there.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but quiet and the tension was obvious.

Finally, Ranna broke the silence. "Honestly, Ryker, I've been thinking about you a lot recently."

Ryker beamed as he reflected on the accomplishment of his strategy. "Is that so? And why is that?"

Ranna smiled, inching closer to him. "I don't know. There's just something about you that makes me want to be with you."

Ryker reached out his hand and pulled her closer. He told her, "I feel the same way, Ranna," and they kissed.

As their lips met, Ryker could sense the charm working its enchantment. Ranna was descending deeper into love, just as he desired.They spent the next few hours engaged in passionate kisses and warm embraces, blissfully oblivious to the outside world.

But as the evening progressed, a pang of guilt began to niggle in Ryker's mind.

He recognized that he was using Ranna, devoid of genuine care for her. She had become a mere stepping stone in his quest for knowledge, a tool to manipulate other women.

Lying in bed, Ryker's mind raced, basking in a sense of accomplishment. After being bullied by Ranna all through middle school, he was excited to have his revenge.

Ranna curled up next to him on the bed, her arms around his middle. Because of her apparent love and care, he felt an inkling of remorse.

Yet he swiftly dismissed it. Her feelings for him were not authentic; she was yet another casualty of the system. Therefore, no guilt was warranted.

He abruptly rose from the bed, forcefully disentangling himself from Ranna's embrace. "You must depart immediately," he stated icily.

Ranna's face contorted in shock and bewilderment. "What? Why? Ryker, what is happening?"

Ignoring her inquiries, Ryker stood and made his way to the window, fixating his gaze on the city skyline. His mind pulsed with a surge of dominance.

"Ryker, please," Ranna pleaded, rising from the bed and enfolding him in her arms from behind. "Talk to me. What is the matter?"

Ryker pivoted to face her, his countenance was devoid of warmth or sentiment. "I require rest now. Sleep beckons. You must go now."

Tears welled in Ranna's eyes. "Are we... are we no longer together?"

Ryker smirked, relishing the gratification that surged through him at the anguish in her voice. "No, we are not. I do not seek a relationship right now. It holds no significance to me."

Ranna's face crumpled, and she implored him to reconsider. "Please, Ryker. I am willing to do anything. I will be the most exceptional girlfriend you have ever had. Just grant me an opportunity."

Yet Ryker was already ushering her toward the door. "No, Ranna. It is over. Get out."

Ranna stumbled toward the exit, her tears cascading freely. She sobbed and asked, "Why are you making me go through this? What did I do wrong?"

Ryker didn't say anything and just watched her leave the apartment. The door slammed shut as she stumbled out.

He stayed there for a while, enjoying the excitement that was running through his body. He had caused pain to Ranna, just as she had done to him many years ago. And it felt euphoric.

However, as minutes slipped by, the elation waned, leaving Ryker isolated within his apartment, consumed by emptiness and solitude. He comprehended the cruelty of his actions, the harm he had inflicted upon Ranna. And for what? A fleeting sensation of dominance? It was an insubstantial triumph, causing a nauseating sensation in Ryker's core.

He fell down on the couch and covered his face with his hands. What had he turned into? When had he transformed into such a callous and heartless individual?

While lost in his ruminations, a peculiar sensation tingled in his fingertips—a prickling, electric current akin to static electricity. Suddenly, his digits emanated an ethereal glow.

Ryker gasped in astonishment, withdrawing his hands from his face. The glow intensified, spreading up his arms and across his chest.

Abruptly, the luminescence vanished, leaving Ryker seated there, his hands trembling, bewildered by the inexplicable occurrence.

Then, a voice reverberated within his mind—a whisper, velvety and mellifluous, resonating from all directions simultaneously.

"Well done, Ryker," the voice murmured. "You are beginning to fathom the potency of the system. You possess the potential to become something extraordinary, something commanding. Embrace it, and the world will bow to your desires."

A shudder coursed through Ryker's spine at the sound of the voice. It's the system.

Yet, intertwined with trepidation, he felt a surge of exhilaration. This was it—the culmination of his lifelong pursuit. Power, dominion, the ability to mold the world according to his will. The ability to captivate women.

He rose from the couch, a newfound determination fueling his steps. The world lay before him, ripe for conquest, and he was ready to seize it.

However, as he approached the door of his apartment, a flicker of doubt disrupted his momentum. What was he evolving into? Was the pull of power worth what he would have to give up?

The door swung open, and he ventured out into the cool night air. The city streets lay shrouded in darkness, their stillness broken only by distant murmurs of traffic.

Ryker embarked on a purposeful stride, his mind swirling with boundless possibilities. Boundaries vanished, and he contemplated the freedom to forge any identity, to sculpt his destiny. The world beckoned, inviting him to partake in its endless tapestry.

Yet, with each passing step, his perception sharpened. Shadows morphed into enigmatic shapes lurking within alleys, ethereal forms flitted through the obscurity.

Abruptly, he found himself encircled by these apparitions—otherworldly entities, their eyes aglow in the depths of night.

Panic surged, and Ryker attempted to flee, but their swiftness surpassed his own. They swarmed, rending his flesh, tugging at his garments.

Desperation propelled him to strike back, unleashing his might, but their strength eclipsed his own.

In the throes of despair, a figure materialized—a woman, tall and graceful, with eyes akin to emeralds.

Extending a hand, she commanded the creatures to retreat, their hisses fading into the night.

"Who are you?" Ryker gasped, still grappling with the assault.

The woman's smile radiated warmth and solace. "I am your guide, Ryker. I shall illuminate your path."

"Path to what?"

"To true power, Ryker. Yet, tread with caution. The system possesses peril. Even the purest souls can be tainted."

A chill coursed through Ryker's veins, acknowledging her words. The encroaching corruption had left an indelible mark, transforming him into something dark and treacherous.

Nonetheless, he could not halt his course. He had journeyed too far to turn back.

The woman set forth, and Ryker trailed in her wake, his heart pulsating with anticipation.

Through the labyrinthine streets of the city they ventured, the woman serving as his compass. Reality melded with illusion, casting a world both familiar and alien.

And then, as if summoned by fate, they arrived—the epicenter of the system, the nexus of omnipotent influence.

An electric surge surged through Ryker's being as he crossed the threshold of the chamber. Its walls were adorned with arcane symbols, emanating an aura of raw power.

"This is it, Ryker," the woman murmured, her voice laced with urgency. "This is the font of power. Yet, exercise vigilance. It harbors the potential to obliterate."

A mingling of fear and exhilaration washed over Ryker as he inched closer to the symbols. He comprehended the treacherous game he played, but the allure of supremacy proved irresistible.

His hand reached out, making contact with a single symbol. Darkness enveloped him, and consciousness slipped away into oblivion.