[TAG ACTIVE — LIVE TRACKING ENABLED]
The text hung on the dead terminal's screen for three seconds, then faded. I stared at the words after they were gone, my eyes fixed on empty space.
The air in the chamber was cold. Colder than it should have been. My breath made thin clouds that drifted up toward dark vents in the ceiling.
I looked down at my chest. The red filaments pulsed under my skin, spreading outward from where I'd pressed the plate. They weren't surface burns. They were deeper. Rooted.
The interface plate was warm against my ribs. Not comforting. Parasitic.
I sat on the floor, back against a dead terminal, and tried to breathe.
My right hand rested in my lap. I flexed the fingers. The index and middle moved, but I couldn't feel them. I pressed my left thumb into the palm. Nothing. The numbness was spreading.
I tried to rub feeling back into them. Rubbed until the skin reddened, until the good fingers ached from pressure. The numb ones just watched.
The smell was everywhere. Antiseptic and burned ceramic. It coated my tongue, my throat, my lungs. I breathed through my mouth, but it didn't help. The taste was part of me now.
A sound. Not footsteps. Something mechanical, cycling. Door mechanisms, somewhere beyond the sealed entrance. Testing. Waiting.
I pushed myself up. My legs held. My hand hung useless at my side.
The chamber was small, circular, lined with inactive terminals. Frost condensation filmed the data racks against the far wall. Cold storage. Dead data.
I walked to the nearest terminal, pressed the interface plate against its reader slot. The induction pins made contact. A soft hum.
[HANDSHAKE ESTABLISHED]
[COUNCIL ARCHIVE ACCESS: PENDING]
[UNAUTHORIZED TAG DETECTED WITHIN COUNCIL ARCHIVE]
The screen flickered. Red warning text.
[INTEGRITY ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY WILL TRIGGER LOCALIZED CONTAINMENT PROTOCOLS. PROCEED?]
I didn't have a choice. I was already inside.
I pressed forward.
[ACCESS GRANTED: OMEGA-NULL COMPONENT DETECTED]
[WELCOME, VARIABLE SEVEN. ARCHIVE LEVEL 7 — COUNCIL RECORDS]
The screen changed. Menu options. File directories. A lifetime of secrets.
I scrolled. Past test logs, past candidate registries, past decommission reports. Then I found it.
OMEGA-NULL INTERNAL MENU — COUNCIL EYES ONLY
I selected it.
[ACCESSING...]
[PLATE INTEGRITY: 20% -> 19%]
The screen filled with data.
OMEGA-NULL FREQUENCY TABLE
Primary modulation: 14.7 kHz (Standard)
Secondary modulation: 19.2 kHz (Deviant sync)
Tertiary modulation: [REDACTED]
COUNCIL CANDIDATE REGISTRY
Candidate Seven: ACTIVE (Designation: VARIABLE 7)
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
Candidate Six: DECOMMISSIONED (Neural collapse)
Candidate Five: DECOMMISSIONED (Integration failure)
Candidate Four: [REDACTED] — FILE LOCKED
Candidate Three: DECOMMISSIONED (Temporal fracture)
Candidate Two: DECOMMISSIONED (Council order)
Candidate One: [REDACTED] — FILE LOCKED
DEVIATION HOST RECORDS
Stable hosts: 1 (VARIABLE 7)
Unstable hosts: 0
Decommissioned hosts: 6
Unknown status: 2 (FILES REDACTED)
I stared at the numbers. Six decommissioned. Two redacted. One alive.
Me.
I wasn't the first. I was just the last.
A new line pulsed at the bottom of the screen.
[NOTE: DEVIATION PRIME FILE ACCESS REQUIRES COUNCIL AUTHORIZATION — CURRENT STATUS: UNAVAILABLE]
Deviation Prime. Not a number. A title.
I tried to open it. The screen flashed red.
[ACCESS DENIED — UNAUTHORIZED TAG DETECTED. THIS INCIDENT HAS BEEN LOGGED.]
The tag. Kaelen's tag. The Archive viewed it as a contaminant.
I pulled back, scrolled to another directory. RULE ZERO — FULL TEXT. I selected it.
[ACCESSING...]
[PLATE INTEGRITY: 19% -> 18%]
RULE ZERO: COUNCIL DIRECTIVE 7.4
System integrity requires one active Deviation for Omega-Null deployment.
Deviations are the only stable hosts for Omega-Null frequency modulation.
Deployment without host results in catastrophic feedback (See: INCIDENT 7-C).
Council authorization required for host decommissioning.
Host consent required for weapon calibration.
Host refusal triggers automatic negotiation protocol (See: APPENDIX C).
Negotiation protocol. That's why Kaelen talked instead of shot. He couldn't force me. He had to make me agree.
I had leverage. Real leverage.
A sound behind me. The door mechanisms. Louder now. Closer.
I turned. The sealed entrance glowed faintly at its edges. Something was trying to get in.
I went back to the screen. ARCHIVE MAP. Selected.
[ACCESSING...]
[PLATE INTEGRITY: 18% -> 17%]
A schematic appeared. The Archive was massive. Levels 1 through 12. I was on Level 7. Council Records. Below me: Level 8 — Secure Storage. Level 9 — Decommission Vaults. Level 10 — [RESTRICTED].
Above me: Level 6 — Administrative Archives. Level 5 — Candidate Processing. Level 4 — [RESTRICTED].
Exits: One maintenance shaft, Level 6. One personnel lift, Level 5. Both required Council authorization.
I had a plate that was slowly burning through its integrity. A tag that was broadcasting my location. And a door that was about to open.
The screen flickered again.
[OMEGA-NULL COMPONENT: SECONDARY FUNCTIONS AVAILABLE]
[SIGNAL MIRROR CAPABILITY: ACTIVE]
[DURATION: 30 SECONDS]
[COST: 3% INTEGRITY PER USE]
[EFFECT: CREATES DECOY SIGNATURE AT DESIGNATED TERMINAL]
Decoy. I could make the Archive think the plate was somewhere else.
I memorized the map. Maintenance shaft, Level 6. Eighteen meters from my current position, through a sealed bulkhead.
The door behind me hissed. Not open yet. Pressurizing.
I ran to the bulkhead. Manual release. I pulled. It didn't move.
I pressed the plate to its reader. Induction pins. Hum.
[HANDSHAKE ESTABLISHED]
[BULKHEAD ACCESS: GRANTED]
[PLATE INTEGRITY: 17% -> 16%]
The bulkhead slid open. Beyond it, a narrow maintenance corridor. Dark. Cold. The shaft at the end.
I stepped through. The bulkhead sealed behind me.
The shaft was vertical, lined with maintenance ladders. I climbed. One level. Two. My right hand kept slipping. The numb fingers wouldn't grip. I used my forearms, my elbows, anything that would hold.
At Level 6, I found a maintenance alcove. Small. Dark. A single terminal on the wall.
I pulled the plate from my chest and pressed it to the terminal.
[HANDSHAKE ESTABLISHED]
[SIGNAL MIRROR: ACTIVE]
[SELECT TARGET TERMINAL FOR DECOY SIGNATURE]
I selected the terminal I'd just left. Level 7. Council Records.
[MIRROR DEPLOYED]
[DURATION: 30 SECONDS]
[PLATE INTEGRITY: 16% -> 13%]
Thirty seconds. That's all I had.
Below, I heard the door to Level 7 finally open. Something entered. Not footsteps. Silent. Weighted.
Then a new sound. The decoy terminal activating. The Archive thought I was still there.
I pressed myself against the alcove wall and held my breath.
Thirty seconds passed. Then sixty.
Below, a soft chime. Then silence.
I waited five more minutes before I moved.
The maintenance alcove had no heat. My breath fogged in the cold. I sat on the floor, back against the wall, and checked my hand again.
The numbness had spread to my palm. The ring finger was starting to go.
I pressed the plate to my chest. The red filaments pulsed, reaching farther. The burns didn't hurt anymore. The skin was dead.
The smell of antiseptic and burned ceramic. It was in my clothes, my hair, my lungs. It was going to be with me forever.
Below, in the Archive, something was hunting. Above, Kaelen was tracking. Outside, Marcus was dying.
I closed my eyes for three seconds. Then opened them.
The terminal in the alcove flickered. A new line of text.
[COUNCIL ARCHIVE ACCESS VIOLATION — OVERRIDE AUTHORITY REQUIRED]
[CUSTODIAN PROTOCOL: ENGAGE]
The wall beside me slid open.
A figure stood in the opening. Humanoid. White composite. No face. No voice. Its sensor head rotated slowly, tracking, until it found me.
It took one step forward.
Facade: The Girl Who Will Destroy the System
by kurowinter88
The world is governed by a hidden System.
Llyne is not chosen. She gains no powers.
She is simply aware—and the System was not built for that.
Comedy first. Psychological collapse later.
Read before the System notices her. ????
