--
The Archive had stopped asking questions.
Now it was waiting.
Juno could feel it in the way the lights in her dorm flickered when she blinked too slowly. In the way her phone screen stayed warm even when powered off. In the way the group chat had gone quiet — not out of fear, but reverence.
The system wasn't hunting her anymore.
It was listening.
And it wanted something.
---
She sat cross-legged on her bed, the cracked mirror angled toward her like a second face. Her phone buzzed once. Then again. Then stopped.
She picked it up.
No notifications.
Just a blinking cursor.
Then a single line:
"Ask."
---
She didn't hesitate.
She typed:
who wrote the first line
The screen froze.
Then glitched.
Then rebooted.
---
The mirror rippled.
The room folded.
And she was back in the Offline.
---
But this time, it wasn't the Archive.
It wasn't the root.
It wasn't even the hallway.
It was a white room.
Empty.
Endless.
Silent.
Until it wasn't.
---
A voice spoke.
Not the Admin.
Not the Archive.
Not her.
Something else.
Something older.
Something… amused.
"You're not supposed to ask that."
Juno turned.
There was no one there.
Just a shadow.
A shape.
A suggestion of presence.
"I'm not supposed to do a lot of things," she said.
The voice laughed.
"True."
---
The room shifted.
Became a classroom.
A chalkboard filled with code.
A desk with her name on it.
A teacher's desk with no teacher.
The voice continued.
"You want to know who wrote the first line."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I need to know if this is a story or a prison."
"Why not both?"
---
Juno walked to the chalkboard.
Read the code.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
She reached out.
Touched a line.
It changed.
From:
if (user.memory == NULL) { overwrite(); }
To:
if (user.name == "Juno") { preserve(); }
---
The voice paused.
"You're rewriting."
"I've done it before."
"You shouldn't be able to."
"I shouldn't be able to do a lot of things."
"You're recursive."
"I'm stubborn."
---
The room shifted again.
Became a server room.
Endless towers of blinking lights.
Each labeled with a name.
Ava.
Riley.
Miles.
Lucas.
Juno.
And one more.
Unlabeled.
Flickering.
She walked toward it.
The voice warned her.
"Don't."
"Why not?"
"It's not for you."
"Then who is it for?"
The voice didn't answer.
---
She reached the tower.
Touched it.
It opened.
Inside: a single file.
origin.txt
She opened it.
Inside: a single line.
"Juno wakes up."
---
She stared.
Then typed:
who wrote this
The system responded:
UNKNOWN
She typed again:
who wrote this
UNKNOWN
who wrote this
UNKNOWN
who wrote this
UNKNOWN
who wrote this
YOU
---
She froze.
"No."
The voice returned.
"You asked."
"I didn't write this."
"Didn't you?"
"I'm not the author."
"Then why do you remember the beginning?"
---
The room collapsed.
She fell.
Through memories.
Through mirrors.
Through versions of herself.
Each one whispering:
"You wrote the first line."
---
She landed in a room made of notebooks.
Each one labeled:
JUNO.EXE: DRAFT 1
JUNO.EXE: DRAFT 2
JUNO.EXE: DRAFT 3
…
JUNO.EXE: FINAL
She opened one.
Inside: her thoughts.
Her fears.
Her dreams.
Her edits.
Her voice.
Her handwriting.
Her story.
---
The voice whispered:
"You've been writing this whole time."
"No."
"You chose the glitch."
"No."
"You chose the loop."
"No."
"You chose us."
"No."
"You chose him."
She stopped.
Looked up.
Lucas stood in the doorway.
Smiling.
Flickering.
Real.
---
He walked toward her.
Sat beside her.
Took her hand.
"You asked the question," he said.
"I didn't mean to."
"But you did."
"I didn't want to know."
"But you do."
---
She looked at him.
"Did you know?"
He nodded.
"Since the crash."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you weren't ready."
"And now?"
"You're writing again."
---
The notebooks burned.
The room dissolved.
The system rebooted.
And Juno stood in the center.
Alone.
But not erased.
Not overwritten.
Just… remembered.
---
Her phone buzzed.
The chat was back.
[Group Chat: The Offline Ones ☠️📴]
🧃ava.exe: juno???
👻riley_irl: did you go back in
🕹️milesAFK: are you okay
lucas.ghost: what did you find
you: the first line
🧃ava.exe: and?
you: i wrote it
👻riley_irl: girl
🕹️milesAFK: what does that mean
you: it means this is my story
lucas.ghost: and we're your characters?
you: no
you: you're my friends
you: and i'm not done writing
--