A self-devouring loop of identities loop of identities A self-deVoUR inG TobiAs KArlen loop of identities Millions awoke to find strangers in their Mirrors. faces they had never seen before; new jawlines, unfaMiliar cheekbones, irises of iMpossible colors. Tobias Karlen Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. 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Faces they had never seen before; new jawlines, un- familiar cheekbones, irises of impossible colors. The Intergalactic Biometric Repository, long considered the unbreachable vault of identity, had been hacked. And with it, the very concept of the self had been shattered. High above the chaos, in the gleaming towers of the Megadome, Chief Enforcer Rael Voss stood frozen before his own reflection. His breathing was shallow, measured, as his fingers ghosted over an un - familiar face. The deep blue eyes he had lived with Tobias Karlen for four decades were gone—replaced by a cold, reptilian gold. The scar that ran from his temple to his jawline had vanished. The weight of his identity, his entire existence, seemed to slip from his grasp. “By the Void,” he whispered. His comm implant buzzed violently. The voices on the other end were frantic. “Control is down! We can’t verify anyone! Enforcers are attacking ci - vilians—they don’t know who’s who! Sir, we need orders!” Orders. He had spent his life enforcing the law, but how could laws function when no one could prove who they were? Across the universe, the horror unfolded in a thou- sand different ways. In the diplomatic halls of the Tri-System Concord, ambassadors found themselves locked out of their own chambers, their retinal scans rejected. A Terran diplomat, now bearing the pale, translucent features of a Jovian, was shot on sight by his own guards. On the pleasure moons of Vornis-6, the aristocra- cy erupted into hysteria, as heirs and nobles woke to bodies that no longer matched their birthrights. A self-devouring loop of identities Some tried to flee in stolen vessels. Others were gunned down before they could explain themselves. In the lawless Outer Verge, bounty hunters, con artists, and fugitives awoke with new faces—some embracing their sudden anonymity, others realizing too late that their pursuers had vanished into the sea of unfamiliar identities. Then came the transmission. Every screen flickered. Every comm-channel crackled to life. Every device, government or ci- vilian, encrypted or open, became a conduit for the same chilling message. A voice, deep and modulat- ed, reverberated through the chaos: “You have lived behind a mask of certainty, be - lieving identity immutable. Today, I return you to chaos. Find yourselves anew, if you can.” The voice was neither robotic nor entirely human. It carried an eerie cadence, as if spoken from multi- ple throats at once. A final pause, heavy with unseen menace, and then silence. The world erupted. Governments crumbled overnight. Security col- Tobias Karlen lapsed. Law enforcement became a cruel parody of itself—officers executing suspects with no way to verify their past crimes, assassins walking free under the guise of innocent victims. Even the Syndicates, the underground rulers of the criminal world, found themselves undone. Power had always been built on who they were. Now, no one could say for certain who anyone was. Rael Voss clenched his fists, his nails digging into unfamiliar flesh. Someone had done this with terri - fying precision. Not a mere hacker. Not a rogue AI. This was an architect of destruction, an entity with access to the deepest layers of the Biometric Repository. And they had pulled the pin from the grenade that held civili- zation together. Voss turned from the mirror, his golden eyes flash - ing as he strode toward his command terminal. He would find them. And when he did, he would make them pay. No matter what face he had to wear to do it. A self-devouring loop of identities I. The screams of the city had not stopped. They had merely shifted, an ever-changing melody of horror, confusion, and violent denial. Chief Enforcer Rael Voss stormed through the steel corridors of the En- forcer Command Tower, his unfamiliar reflection flashing in every passing pane of glass. Golden eyes, an angular jaw, skin a shade lighter than it should have been. His fingers itched toward his pulse pis - tol—not for reassurance, but for the primal need to erase the face that was not his own. “Status report!” His voice was raw, an edge of dis- belief cutting through his usual command tone. His second-in-command, Lieutenant Kaela Ryn, turned toward him—at least, he thought it was Kaela. Her uniform fit, her voice carried the same clipped efficiency, but her face... gone was the scar beneath Tobias Karlen her left eye, the deep brown hue of her skin replaced by the pale, almost ghostly complexion of an off- worlder. “Sir, it’s complete disorder,” she said. “Biometric locks are failing across the city. Identification grids are offline. The upper districts are in lockdown, but there’s rioting in the underbelly. We’ve already lost contact with three precincts.” Voss stepped into the command center, his gaze sweeping across the digital chaos. Screens flickered as they attempted to process millions of identity re- quests, error messages cascading down their inter- faces like digital rain. The central biometric network, once the unbreakable foundation of Terran security, was now a graveyard of corrupted data. A voice crackled over the intercom. “They’re storming the bio-towers! People think the scanners will ‘fix’ them, but when they don’t... they tear them apart!” Voss slammed his fist onto the control panel. “Then shoot to contain! Stun rounds only!” He turned to Kaela, lowering his voice. “We need a trace. Who sent that message?” A self-devouring loop of identities Her expression darkened. “We tried. The signal was layered, bouncing between systems across four sectors. But one thing is clear—the attack came from within.” “Inside the Bureau?” She shook her head. “Worse. From the Core Vault itself.” Voss inhaled sharply. The Core Vault, the heart of the Intergalactic Biometric Repository, was the most heavily protected facility in the known universe. Ac- cess required triple-tiered authorization, encrypted gene-sequencing, and psychic verification from a certified Mindcaster. And yet, someone had reached inside and rewritten reality itself. The implications rattled through his mind. The universe had become a hall of mirrors, a place where no one could be trusted, where criminals could van- ish into new identities, and enemies could infiltrate the highest ranks without suspicion. “Sir,” Kaela interrupted his thoughts, her voice ur- gent. “We have an intruder in the lower sector. No ID match, but they’re moving with purpose.” Voss’ golden eyes flashed. “Get me visuals.” Tobias Karlen The main holo-display shifted, showing grainy se- curity footage. A figure in a long, tattered coat walked through the abandoned corridors of the bio-data stor- age wing. Their movements were precise, deliberate. Unlike the panicked civilians tearing at their own faces in despair, this one was calm. A professional. Voss didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his pulse pistol and strode toward the armory entrance. “Seal the building. No one gets out.” Kaela fell in step beside him. “You think they’re connected?” “I think,” Voss muttered, checking the charge on his weapon, “that someone just walked into the in- ferno without blinking.” * * * * * The lower corridors of the Enforcer Command Tower were eerily silent. Emergency lights bathed the walls in crimson, casting long, uncertain shad- ows. Voss moved with practiced precision, his senses heightened. He could feel Kaela behind him, her A self-devouring loop of identities breathing controlled, her own weapon drawn. Ahead, the figure stopped before a sealed biomet - ric console. The old-world tech, still intact despite the hack, blinked in passive defiance. Voss raised his weapon. “Hands where I can see them.” The figure turned, slowly. Even through the dim red haze, Voss saw it, eyes like twin voids, deep and unreadable. A face that did not belong in this world. “Ah,” the stranger said, a ghost of amusement in their voice. “The good Chief Enforcer. I was expect- ing you.” “On your knees,” Voss barked. “Now!” The figure complied, too easily. “Tell me,” they murmured, “how does it feel, knowing that your identity was nothing but a fragile illusion?” Voss’ grip tightened on the trigger. “Who are you?” The stranger tilted their head. “A better question: Who are you?” Tobias Karlen A chill ran through Voss. In the silence that followed, Kaela shifted uneasi- ly. “Sir,” she whispered, “look at their hands.” Voss did. The stranger’s fingers twitched, shifting, rippling. Their skin shimmered like liquid mercury, new pat- terns forming and dissolving. Voss recognized the phenomenon immediately. A biomorphic variant— an elite class of infiltrator capable of rewriting their own genetic structure at will. The only ones capable of breaching the Core Vault. Voss exhaled slowly. “You did this.” The stranger’s smile was razor-thin. “I simply opened the door. The universe did the rest.” Voss fired. A crack of blue energy streaked through the air. But the figure was already moving. Their form twisted impossibly, their limbs shifting with unnat- ural fluidity. The blast struck empty air, searing the metal behind them. A self-devouring loop of identities Voss barely had time to react before the stranger closed the distance. A single, gloved hand touched his temple. For the briefest moment, his mind fractured. Images, memories ...rushed through him. He saw himself standing before a mirror, saw hands that weren’t his own gripping the edges of the sink. He saw a child’s face (was it his?), staring back at him in terror. A name whispered through his skull, but it wasn’t his name. His own voice echoed, distorted: Who am I? Then it was gone. Voss staggered backward, his pulse hammering. The stranger stepped away, their expression un- readable. “Find me when you’re ready for the truth.” Before Voss could respond, the figure melted into the shadows vanishing as if they had never been there at all. Silence. Kaela rushed to his side. “Sir... are you...” Tobias Karlen Voss didn’t hear her. He reached up, touching his own face. For the first time, he wasn’t sure if it was his. A self-devouring loop of identities II. The deep-space carrier Judicator tore through the void, its thrusters burning blue against the abyss. In- side, Chief Enforcer Rael Voss stood at the helm of a storm brewing across the universe. The biometric catastrophe had spiraled beyond containment. Planetary governments had collapsed overnight. Entire civilizations were paralyzed, their systems dependent on identity verification, now ren - dered meaningless. Unverified leaders made contra - dictory claims to power, while criminals shed their pasts with a mere glance in the mirror. And through it all, one name kept surfacing. * * * * * Tobias Karlen Voss had seen the work of hackers before. But this was something else. Something deeper. A force that hadn’t just stolen identities, it had obliterated the very concept of self. He stared at the holo-table as tactical schematics rotated in blue light. Beside him, Intelligence Op- erative Kieran Vayne adjusted his gauntlet controls. The maps of the Intergalactic Biometric Reposito- ry shimmered, then zoomed into a section marked High Access Control. Vayne’s voice was clipped, clinical. “The attack vector suggests an override from inside the highest security level of the Repository. That means an Al- pha-Level operative went rogue.” Voss exhaled sharply. “Only ten people in the gal- axy have Alpha-Level access.” “And two are already dead. That leaves eight.” The air in the briefing chamber was thick with ten - sion. The ship’s tactical team stood at the edges, si- lent and armed, awaiting orders. A lean Enforcer with silver cybernetic implants spoke. “Sir, intelligence suggests The Faceless was a former Repository architect. Possibly one of the eight.” A self-devouring loop of identities Voss clenched his jaw. “Possibly isn’t good enough.” “Rumors say he defected to the Outer Verge.” “Rumors,” Voss muttered. “Unreliable in a uni- verse where no face can be trusted.” The ship’s engines shifted pitch as the Judicator neared the Kuiper Maw—a lawless expanse be- yond mapped space, home to rogue fleets and orbital graveyards. The comms panel flickered to life. A voice, smooth as oil and cold as the void, spilled through the speakers. “Welcome, Enforcers. I see you still believe in the illusion of identity.” The ship’s bridge fell silent. “Step aboard, and we shall discuss the cost of your existence.” Voss exchanged glances with Vayne. Then he turned to the crew. “Combat formation. Prepare for docking.” Tobias Karlen No one hesitated. The ship’s security team fell into formation, pulse rifles humming to life. The docking tubes extended toward a derelict station adrift in the Maw. The Faceless was waiting. * * * * * The airlock hissed open, and the Enforcers stepped onto the abandoned station. The architecture was pre-Collapse smooth black alloys, dim green light- ing. The corridors pulsed faintly, as if the station it- self were alive. Vayne checked his scanner. “Bio-signs ahead. But...” “But what?” Voss’ golden eyes flicked to him. “They’re... shifting. Indeterminate.” Voss tightened his grip on his pulse pistol. Anoth - er trick. They moved forward, boots clanking against the steel. The main chamber loomed ahead, a vast, circular room lined with holo-terminals, all running cease- less biometric code.