World of Data

Hi author here, dont worry i wont drop my pokemon fanfic. I just want write other thing. By the time i upload this fanfic.. i already have +9 chapter dor my pokemon fanfic.. so dont worry guys.

Enjoy it ;)

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He awoke or at least, he thought he did.

There was no light, no sound, no sensation.

Only numbers.

Strings of data stretched endlessly around him, forming an infinite landscape of 0s and 1s. They cascaded like waterfalls, shifted like ocean waves, and sometimes pulsed as if they were alive. He tried to move, but there was no body to move. There was no ground, no sky, just endless numbers flowing in all directions.

What is this?

The thought surfaced in his mind, but it felt foreign. As if it wasn't truly his. As if he wasn't truly… anything.

Who am I?

No answer came. There was no memory, no past, only the unrelenting tide of data.

He drifted. Or maybe he wasn't drifting. Maybe he wasn't even there. Was he a consciousness? A fragment of thought? Or just another line of code in this endless void?

Then, amidst the countless 010101010101s, something changed.

A disturbance.

A figure appeared.

Or rather, it approached, though "approach" wasn't the right word. It didn't walk. It didn't move like a living thing. It simply became larger, as if distance itself was a meaningless concept in this place.

At first, it was only another cluster of numbers, a distortion among the patterns. But as it drew near, the data around him began to warp. The endless stream of ones and zeroes flickered and darkened. The bright numbers dimmed, turning into a void of black nothingness, leaving only the figure in front of him.

Now, he could see it, or at least, see something.

The thing was… gray.

Not like a shade of color, but an absence of clarity, a shifting blur that neither solidified nor fully vanished.

It had… limbs? A shape that could be called a body? Perhaps.

Then it moved.

A hand, if it could be called that, reached toward him.

He tried to react. To move. To escape. But how could he? He had no legs. He had no arms. He had no body.

What is a leg?

What is a arm?

What is a body?

The thought entered his mind, but it carried no meaning. A leg. A foot. A hand. Concepts that felt distant, foreign, like remnants of something long lost.

The figure's gray hand made contact.

And he felt.

Something happened. A sensation. A change.

For the first time since his awareness began, something touched him, and he existed.

But it lasted only a moment.

The gray figure suddenly recoiled, its entire form shuddering, as if it had just touched something forbidden. It backed away, not in fear, but in hesitation.

As it retreated, the black void surrounding them shattered.

The world became numbers again. 010101010101. But something was wrong.

Behind him, the data distorted.

A disturbance.

A rupture in the pattern, like a flaw in the code. A glitch.

He couldn't see it, but he could feel it, a force pulling at him, dragging him toward the anomaly. It was as if he were nothing but a scrap of paper, weightless against the current of a storm.

He tried to resist.

Or maybe he didn't.

Could he even try if he had no body to struggle with?

The force pulled him in. The numbers around him warped.

Was this a bug? A corruption in the data?

May force be with you?

The thought came and went, meaningless in the face of inevitability.

Then, as he was consumed by the anomaly, the code around him began to shift.

010101010101 turned into color.

Not numbers. Not data.

Color.

But something was changing within him as well. His form, his existence, was unraveling. The code that made up this place was rewriting him, converting him into the same strings of 0s and 1s that surrounded him.

Or had he always been a number?

Had he ever been anything else?

As he vanished into the disturbance, the world behind him reset. The anomaly sealed.

The numbers continued flowing. The void returned to normal.

Normal.

Or at least, normal for this world—

010101010101.

—A world of endless number.