The RV's engine purred quietly as the trio coasted away from the Liaison's building. Rain tapped against the windshield like coded messages—too regular, too deliberate. Rachel stared into the night, her reflection fractured by droplets on the glass.
"You knew she'd be there," Rachel said, her voice low.
Levi didn't respond.
"You knew, and you brought us in blind. Again."
"It was the only way she'd talk to you," he finally muttered.
Rachel turned her head sharply. "She didn't talk, Levi. She monologued like a Bond villain, dropped a mind-bomb, and then practically told us to check our expiration dates."
Skye kicked her boots up onto the dash. "Ten out of ten. Would not recommend."
Rachel folded the file in her lap—hers and Skye's pictures still burned behind her eyelids. "She said I agreed to this. That I wanted my memory wiped."
"Parts of you did," Levi said. "Before the Feedback started. When you were still in the test group."
Rachel laughed without humor. "Yeah? Well, parts of me want to strangle you right now. Can we sync that?"
Levi flinched.
The system remained silent. It was listening. It always was.
They stopped just before dawn in what looked like a public park, overgrown and wild. Vines curled over metal benches. Digital butterflies blinked in and out of existence above cracked walkways. The place shimmered with wrongness.
Rachel stepped out first. The moment her boots hit the ground, her system pulsed.
[Node Gamma: Proximity Confirmed]
[Mem-Anchor Point Located — Access Optional]
[Side Effect: Emotional Displacement Possible]
"Another node?" Skye asked.
Rachel didn't answer. She moved toward the center of the park, past a rusted merry-go-round. At its base sat a bench with a name carved into it.
R. I.
Her initials.
She sat. The moment she did, the world bent.
Children's laughter filled the air. But the park was empty.
The glitch spread—reality warping, then snapping into clarity. She was back. Young. Six? Seven?
And her father—alive. Smiling. Sitting beside her on this same bench, pointing toward a blue kite stuck in the branches above.
"You said it was magic," Rachel whispered. "I believed you."
Her father looked at her. This time, he saw her.
"It was the first lie," he said. "The system started with lies, Rachel. Then it made you forget them."
The memory cracked. Static bled in.
[Emotional Displacement: 83% — Abort Memory? Yes/No]
She hit NO.
The kite snapped loose. It drifted down slowly.
Her younger self caught it.
Then everything shattered.
She was back in the park. Skye knelt beside her.
"You blacked out. Are you okay?"
"No," Rachel whispered. "But I think I just found my first truth."
Back in the RV, Levi opened a new file. This one was digital. Encrypted.
"Phase Two is starting," he said. "The system's shifting its tactics. It won't be content with observing anymore. It'll test you."
Rachel stared. "Test me how?"
"By giving you what you want."
The screen displayed a list. Names. Grades. Opportunities. All tied to Rachel's profile.
"College placements. Dorm assignments. Faculty approvals. All perfect. All manipulated."
"So it's building me a dream life?" Rachel asked.
Levi nodded. "To see if you'll stop resisting."
Skye leaned over. "And if she doesn't?"
Levi's face was grim. "It starts collapsing other subjects to isolate her."
Rachel felt ice run down her spine.
[New Directive: Accept Scenario Integration — Yes/No?]
[Reward: Full Autonomy Simulation Access]
[Warning: Rejection May Trigger Consequence Cascade]
Rachel turned off her screen.
"I want my real life back. Not a perfect lie."
The system paused.
Then it beeped.
[Noted.]
The RV rolled forward.
In the distance, the university gates came into view.
[Welcome Back, Rachel.]
[Your Life Has Been Optimized.]
The university gates yawned open like the jaws of something ancient and indifferent. Rachel stared out from the RV window as the campus rolled into view—a scene so normal it was almost eerie. Birds chirped. Students laughed. Someone jogged past with earbuds in, oblivious to the glitch humming beneath it all.
"Back where it all started," Skye muttered, chewing on a licorice stick like a cigarette.
Rachel stepped out slowly, her boots hitting the pavement like it might shatter. The air smelled too clean. The buildings looked too polished.
[System Reintegration: In Progress]
[Persona: RACHEL_IRVINE — Status: Reinforced]
"So... what now?" she asked.
Levi handed her a manila envelope. Inside were fake class schedules, new credentials, even a resume she didn't write.
"Now, you blend in," he said. "Play the role. Smile for the cameras. The system wants you comfortable. We let it think it's working."
Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Until?"
"Until we break it from the inside."
Rachel's new dorm room was too nice. Too tailored. The bedspread matched her childhood favorite color. Posters lined the walls—movies she couldn't remember loving but felt right somehow. A desk with exactly three pens, a plant named Howard, and a framed photo of her and her parents.
Only problem? She'd never seen that photo before.
[Environment Optimization Complete]
[Emotional Calibration: Stable]
[Social Simulations Activated]
There was a knock. A girl with bright eyes and sugar-cookie energy bounced in. "Hi! I'm Marla, your roommate! Unless you hate people, in which case I'll fake my own death and haunt the third floor. Your call."
Rachel blinked. "Hi... Marla. I'm Rachel."
"Duh. Everyone knows you. Star GPA, community leader, basically the reason they made scholarships. You're kind of a legend."
Rachel forced a smile. "Oh, great."
Marla handed her a welcome cupcake. "Don't eat it though. Someone said they're 3D-printed and taste like existential regret."
Rachel set it aside.
Outside, the system pulsed.
[Peer Surveillance Active]
[Deviation Index: 2% — Within Tolerance]
Rachel looked around.
This wasn't a room.
It was a glass box.
Night fell. Campus lights buzzed like wasps. Rachel snuck out with Skye, crossing a courtyard designed like a hex grid. Every fifth tile hummed beneath their feet.
They reached the library. The back entrance still had Levi's override code etched into the keylock.
Inside, the place was empty. Or so it seemed.
Rows of books. Automated shelves. Drones buzzing faintly overhead.
Rachel moved to the restricted archives. She reached for a ledger.
The moment her fingers touched it—
[Unauthorized Data Contact — Logging Attempt]
A rush of static filled her vision. Images. Her as a toddler. Her mother, stern. Her father, pleading.
And a voice.
"You weren't supposed to survive the calibration."
The system jolted.
[Alert: User Proximity Breach — Enabling Memory Dampener]
Rachel reeled back.
Skye caught her.
But the damage was done. Another piece of her cracked open.
"I think I saw... my first shutdown," she whispered.
"Shutdown?" Skye asked.
Rachel nodded, heart hammering. "A time I disobeyed the system. And it turned me off."
They stared at each other.
Then the fire alarm went off.
A warning?
Or a trap?
[Warning: Rachel Irvine has exceeded Memory Reclamation Threshold]
[System Protocol Shifting — Glass House Reinforcement In Progress]
[Next Milestone: Obedience or Collapse?]