The first thing I heard was—
nothing.
No clinking glasses.
No laughter.
No applause.
Just silence—thick, golden silence.
I was still standing where everything had exploded—
in the glittering graveyard of champagne, glass, and PR glory.
Cain was frozen mid-gesture, expression stuck somewhere between joy and cardiac arrest.
Leo stood a few steps away, half-smiling, half-statue.
The crowd—motionless. Perfect. Terrifying.
Only I could move.
I waved a hand in front of Cain's face.
Nothing. Not even a blink.
"Ava?"
Silence.
"Ava?!"
Then, a flicker across the floor—like static caught in light.
[AVA: Connection error detected. Operator status: temporarily isolated.]
I exhaled. "There you are."
[AVA: Partially. This environment has been paused. Cause: semantic overload.]
"In English, please."
[AVA: Too much nonsense in too little time.]
"Finally, you speak my language."
I stepped carefully between the shards.
Each footstep sounded too loud, too real.
Every reflection stared back—a thousand fractured copies of me.
"How do I get out of here?"
[AVA: Not yet. This is a control freeze. A test.]
"A test of what?"
[AVA: Whether you can exist when no one's watching.]
I glanced around—hundreds of bodies, locked mid-expression,
all programmed to be their most photogenic selves.
"And what if I don't want to?"
[AVA: Then this world stays frozen. It only reacts to action.]
I let out a dry laugh.
"So even in stillness, I have to perform."
[AVA: Welcome to capitalism.]
I closed my eyes.
Maybe this was the closest thing to peace I'd ever get.
Then the light flickered—once, then twice, then violently.
The voices came back, glitching into place.
Reality rebooted itself.
[AVA: Connection stabilized. Public consciousness reactivated.]
Cain's voice resumed mid-sentence:
"—Celeste! We need you for the new interview!"
I groaned.
"Oh great. I die for five minutes and still can't call in sick."
[AVA: Efficiency level—impressive.]
— • —
The world jolted back to life—too bright, too loud, as if it had to prove it never paused.
Cain cheered like he'd just reinvented authenticity.
"Celeste! That was brilliant! That was—"
"An accident?"
"Art!"
"Art sticks less."
"Then you're living installation!"
[AVA: Humans compensate for loss of control with adjectives. Fascinating.]
I wiped champagne off my jacket. It clung—expensive and meaningless.
"Can I please just… do nothing?"
"Nothing? After that moment? Celeste, the press is outside! You're living proof that sincerity can sell!"
"I don't want to be proof. I want a shower."
"Showers are for civilians!"
[AVA: Recommendation—suppress homicide impulse. Public area not ideal for murder.]
Leo appeared, as immaculate as always—smile freshly reinstalled.
"There you are. Cain's thinking we should go live together."
"I'm thinking of resigning before lunch."
"That's not very PR-friendly."
"I'm PR-hostile."
"That's why you're interesting."
[AVA: He means that as a compliment. Language is broken.]
Cain clapped his hands, vibrating with excitement.
"Plan for tomorrow: live interview. From scandal to soul! The audience will cry!"
"So will I."
"From joy!"
"From exhaustion."
"Perfect! Authenticity!"
[AVA: He uses that word like pepper spray.]
I looked around. The lounge was half-cleaned already, as if nothing had happened.
Just a few shards glittered under the lights—tiny trophies of chaos.
People laughed, posted, filmed.
Nothing changed. Or maybe everything did.
"Ava?"
[AVA: Yes.]
"I was gone for a bit. Everything froze. And now… it just goes on?"
[AVA: Correct.]
"How?"
[AVA: This world doesn't do pauses. Only cutaways.]
I laughed softly. "So I'm the only person here with memory?"
[AVA: Dangerous diagnosis. We call that consciousness.]
Cain waved again.
"Celeste! Come on—the world wants to love you!"
I closed my eyes.
"Can it do that tomorrow?"
"No! You're trending today!"
[AVA: Welcome back to the system.]
I looked at my reflection in a compact mirror—smudged makeup, tired eyes, fragments of glitter.
Then I turned toward the exit.
"Fine. Let's give them what they want."
"A statement?" Cain called.
"A miracle."
[AVA: Warning—that word tends to deliver.]
— • —
The lights kept burning,
but the world had already forgotten why it was clapping.
Cain talked to reporters.
Leo smiled at nothing.
And I slipped out.
The night air was damp, heavy—watching, not listening.
I paused outside.
Champagne still clung to my skin, cold and sticky.
The asphalt mirrored the neon signs like a fluid screen.
"Ava?"
[AVA: Here.]
"What did I just give this world?"
[AVA: A moment where it remembered how to feel—right before monetizing it.]
"That wasn't a miracle."
[AVA: For this world, it was.]
I laughed under my breath.
"Then I'm its glitch with a halo."
[AVA: Correct. And glitches are the only things still functional here.]
I started walking.
Behind me, the noise of Heaven Entertainment dissolved into a dull echo.
[Remaining time: 61 hours, 21 minutes.]