Mu Ying forced herself to breathe, trying to regain composure. The neural dampeners on her wrist buzzed, reading her erratic vitals. "Calm down," she muttered to herself. "You're still in control. The network can be rebuilt. The backups.."
Then she froze.
Every backup drive she tried to open returned the same message:
[DATA CORRUPT. ACCESS DENIED.]
Her last safeguard was gone.
The room suddenly felt too small, the air too heavy. The walls seemed to close in, their smooth surfaces reflecting countless versions of her panicked face.
She staggered backward, bumping into the edge of her workstation. "It can't be… I was so close," she whispered.
For years, she had manipulated governments and corporations, turning leaders into obedient husks under the guise of "cognitive enhancement." The world had been one step away from complete synchronization. Her synchronization. She would have been the unseen goddess behind the perfect human civilization.
Now it was gone.
