>>__// TRANSMISSION_1432
___// MODULE ACTIVE
__//_ 87-F//LOCKED_
...ERROR: INVALID SEQUENCE...
>> REBOOT REQUIRED: 00:03:27
END ////
______//_ MODULE ACTIVE
_____// MODULE ACTIVE
____// MODULE ACTIVE
___// 87-F//LOCKED_
__// MODULE ACTIVE
_// MODULE ACTIVE
Root >> mi.k7
rev. 12.4 >> END ////
SYSTEM DISAGREES WITH SYSTEM
SYSTEM CANNOT VERIFY REALITY
The first thing I taste is metal. Copper tang, like I've been chewing on old wires in my sleep. My head is full of static, like a corrupted file trying to unpack itself inside my skull.
I open my eyes. Bad idea.
The light from the blinds cuts across my body in sharp, shifting lines. The sun outside pulses like a dying LED, flickering in and out of existence. Too fast. Too unnatural. Like reality is buffering.
My fingers twitch. My skin feels wrong.
A message scrolls across the corner of my vision, bright green against the dark:
"ERROR: SYSTEM CANNOT VERIFY USER INTEGRITY"
I swallow hard, but the metal taste doesn't go away.
I push myself up from the mattress—thin, synthetic, stained with old sweat. My apartment is a box, a two-credit rental in the lower stacks. There’s a terminal in the corner, its screen cracked, but it still hums like it's dreaming.
I check my arms. My legs. I should know what they feel like. I don’t.
Something inside me is wrong.
Outside, the sky cycles between deep neon orange and bruised purple. The sun fades and returns like it’s indecisive. Shadows slither across the walls in patterns that don’t make sense.
I stagger to the sink, splash cold water on my face. It feels like nothing. My reflection glitches—just for a second—like my body forgot what it was supposed to look like.
I was normal yesterday. Right?
The terminal in the corner beeps like in an agreement.
My breathing is too fast. My hands won’t stop shaking.
A final message prints itself over my vision, black text against a sickly green glow.
"DEVICE CANNOT VERIFY REALITY"
It takes time to read.. minutes, or hours..
"WARNING: TRANSMISSION IS NOT MEANT FOR HUMAN INTERPRETATION. INITIALIZE SCHUTDOWN"
The pain floods in. Everything turns white, like my empty scream converts in white noise.