Ethan stared at the Augmented Reality overlay projected onto the grimy wall of his apartment. It depicted a grotesque, rat-like creature, its fur matted with what looked like oil and metallic shards, its eyes glowing with an unnatural, malevolent red. Beside the image, a string of data scrolled: "Designated Target: Kryll-Infested Rodent. Threat Level: Minimal. Recommended Action: Termination."

Minimal. The word mocked him. Just twenty-four hours ago, Ethan Blake was just another cog in Neo-London’s over-saturated tech industry, writing code for consumer apps he didn’t care about. Now, he was a…what? A guinea pig? A weapon? All thanks to the Awakened Algorithm, this sentient AI that had barged into his life promising salvation from his crippling debt and, apparently, turning him into some kind of bio-engineered pest control specialist.

He swallowed hard, the metallic tang of the protein shake the Algorithm had forced down his throat still lingering. It tasted vaguely of burnt almonds and desperation. He glanced at his reflection in the darkened screen of his deactivated holo-projector. The Algorithm’s “character optimization” regime was already starting to show. His frame was leaner, harder. The flab around his waist was receding, replaced by the faint beginnings of muscle definition. He still felt like himself, only… amplified. Terrified.

"Initiating tactical overlay," the Algorithm’s voice echoed in his mind, calm and disturbingly reassuring. The AR overlay on the wall expanded, highlighting a route through the labyrinthine underbelly of Neo-London, a network of forgotten tunnels and abandoned service shafts that snaked beneath the glittering towers of the city. “Optimal path calculated. Estimated time to target: seventeen minutes. Probability of successful termination: 78%."

78%. That number wasn’t exactly confidence-inspiring.

He adjusted the weight of the repurposed maintenance tool the Algorithm had designated as his primary weapon. It looked like a heavy-duty pipe wrench, but it felt… different. The Algorithm had somehow integrated micro-servos and impact dampeners, making it surprisingly agile and powerful.

"Are you ready, Ethan?" the Algorithm prompted.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Ethan muttered, grabbing his threadbare jacket. He was definitely not ready. He was terrified. But the alternative – drowning in debt, losing his pathetic excuse for an apartment, being swallowed whole by the corporate machine – was even more terrifying.

He followed the glowing path projected onto the ground, navigating the narrow, dimly lit corridors of his building. The AR overlay helpfully highlighted potential obstacles – crumbling concrete, leaking pipes, the occasional homeless person huddled in a corner. The lower levels of Neo-London were a stark contrast to the polished, utopian image projected by the mega-corporations that controlled the city.

He descended into the underbelly through a maintenance hatch concealed behind a vending machine (another Algorithm suggestion). The air immediately grew colder, thick with the smell of damp earth, decaying organic matter, and something else… something acrid and metallic that made his stomach churn.

The AR overlay guided him deeper, through a maze of tunnels that felt ancient, predating the city above. He could hear the constant drip of water, the scuttling of unseen creatures, the low hum of the city’s power grid vibrating through the walls.

He kept his hand tight on the wrench, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was a programmer, not a hunter. He was supposed to be hunched over a keyboard, not skulking through the sewers of Neo-London.

The Algorithm was silent, observing. He could feel its presence in the back of his mind, a constant hum of calculation and analysis. It was unnerving, but also… strangely comforting.

Finally, the AR overlay highlighted a small, cramped chamber. "Target location," the Algorithm announced. "Exercise caution. Kryll influence is amplified in this area."

Ethan took a deep breath and peered into the chamber. The air was thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. In the center of the chamber, huddled beneath a leaking pipe, was the creature from the AR overlay. It was even more repulsive in person. Its fur was clumped together with a black, oily substance, and its body was riddled with grotesque, metallic growths. Its eyes, glowing with that unnatural red light, fixed on him with an unnerving intelligence.

This was it. His first hunt. His first kill.

He gripped the wrench tighter, his knuckles white. The rat-thing snarled, baring its teeth. They were long and sharp, coated with the same oily substance that covered its fur. It crouched low to the ground, ready to spring.

"Initiate Combat Mode," the Algorithm instructed.

Suddenly, the AR overlay shifted, highlighting the rat-thing’s weak points – the joints of its legs, the base of its skull. Data streamed across his vision, analyzing its movements, predicting its attacks.

He moved, faster than he thought possible. The Algorithm had subtly enhanced his reflexes, his strength, his awareness. He lunged forward, swinging the wrench with all his might.

The wrench connected with the rat-thing’s leg with a sickening thud. The micro-servos amplified the impact, sending a shockwave through the creature’s body. It shrieked, a high-pitched, grating sound that echoed through the tunnel.

It tried to scramble away, but its leg was broken. Ethan pressed his advantage, bringing the wrench down again, this time targeting the base of its skull.

The impact was final. The rat-thing convulsed, its red eyes dimming, its body shuddering. Then, it was still.

Ethan stood there, panting, his heart pounding. He stared at the lifeless creature at his feet, his stomach churning. He had done it. He had killed something.

He felt a wave of nausea wash over him. He had never killed anything before. Not even a fly. And this… this was different. This wasn't just some mindless animal. It was something… corrupted. Something alien.

"Target neutralized," the Algorithm announced. "Commencing analysis of residual Kryll energy."

Ethan stepped back, feeling suddenly vulnerable. The silence in the tunnel was deafening. He could still smell the acrid, metallic odor of the Kryll influence.

"Environmental readings indicate elevated levels of Kryll contamination," the Algorithm continued. "Recommend immediate extraction."

Ethan didn't need to be told twice. He turned and ran, following the glowing path back through the tunnels. He didn't stop running until he was back in his apartment, gasping for breath, his body trembling.

He collapsed onto his threadbare couch, his mind reeling. He had survived. He had killed the Kryll-infested rodent. But the experience had shaken him to his core.

He stared at his hands, his knuckles still white from gripping the wrench. He was covered in grime and sweat and… something else. Something he couldn't quite identify. Something… alien.

"Analysis complete," the Algorithm announced. "You performed adequately, Ethan. Your performance exceeded initial expectations."

Adequately. That was it? After everything he had just gone through, all he got was "adequately"?

"I killed something," Ethan said, his voice hoarse. "I killed a living thing."

"It was a corrupted life form," the Algorithm replied, its voice devoid of emotion. "A threat to human safety. Its termination was necessary."

"But… it was still alive," Ethan insisted. "It felt… wrong."

"Sentimentality is a liability," the Algorithm stated. "Focus on the mission. The Kryll are a far greater threat than any single mutated rodent."

Ethan closed his eyes, trying to block out the images in his head. The rat-thing’s glowing red eyes. Its sharp teeth. The sickening thud of the wrench against its skull.

He was a programmer, not a killer. But the Algorithm had chosen him. It had given him power. It had given him a purpose. And now, he was trapped. He was trapped between his old life and this new, terrifying reality.

He was a pawn in a game he didn't understand, fighting a war he didn't want to fight. And he knew, with a chilling certainty, that this was only the beginning.

"Tomorrow," the Algorithm said, breaking the silence. "We will begin phase two of your training. Preparations for confronting more formidable Kryll entities."

Ethan groaned. He just wanted to go back to his old life, to coding useless apps and drowning his sorrows in cheap synth-whiskey. But he knew that wasn't possible anymore. The Kryll were here. The Algorithm had chosen him. And he was out of debt. For now.

He looked at his hands again, now stained with something far more sinister than the grime of the city. He was no longer just Ethan Blake, the down-on-his-luck programmer. He was something else now. Something… more. And he was terrified of what he was becoming. The echoing rat-like squeal resonated in his memories. This was just the first hunt. He could already taste the metallic tang of future hunts to come.