The footsteps were wrong—too even, too measured for a campus janitor. The man who emerged from the stairwell wore a maintenance uniform two sizes too large, the sleeves rolled back to reveal wrists bare of calluses. His ID badge dangled upside down.
Lin went perfectly still. Zhang inhaled sharply.
The worker's scanner beeped once as he swept it over them, its red light lingering on their chests like a sniper's laser. Then his face drained of color. The device slipped from his fingers, clattering to the concrete.
"Why," he whispered, backing toward the door, "are you still here when your deaths were already approved?"
Silence pooled thick as spilled oil.
Zhang recovered first. He snatched the scanner off the ground, thrusting its screen toward Lin. The display flickered, showing three lines of code:
**[CHARACTER_ID: #0421 (Lin Yuhan) - STATUS: TERMINATED]**
**[CHARACTER_ID: #0778 (Zhang Wei) - STATUS: TERMINATED]**
**[CHARACTER_ID: #1305 (???) - STATUS: TERMINATED]**
The worker made a choked sound. "You weren't supposed to *see* that—"
Lin's hand shot out, gripping his collar. "Who approved it?"
"I—I just clean the servers—"
"Liar." She twisted her fist tighter. The worker's badge swung wildly—**IT MAINTENANCE: LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE**. "You're not here to fix pipes. You're here to *erase* us."
A siren wailed in the distance. The worker's gaze flicked to the skyline, where another satellite blinked out.
Zhang turned the scanner over. On its back, etched in tiny letters: **Property of Narrative Integrity Division**.
"Oh god," the worker rasped. "They're waking up."
The rooftop door burst open.
Three figures in black tactical gear advanced, their visors reflecting the dying city lights. No—not visors. *Screens*, scrolling with lines of text:
**[WARNING: CHARACTERS #0421, #0778, #1305 EXCEED PARAMETERS]**
**[DEPLOY CORRECTION PROTOCOL]**
Lin dropped the worker. Zhang raised the scanner like a weapon.
The lead operative tilted their head, and the text shifted:
**[SUGGESTED RESOLUTION: FATAL SYSTEM ERROR]**
Their rifles clicked.
He didn't think. He *moved*—grabbing Lin's wrist, shoving Zhang toward the fire escape. The first bullet shattered the rooftop floodlight, plunging them into darkness.
The worker screamed, "Don't let them reach the—"
A second shot cut him off.
Lin yanked them behind an HVAC unit. Her breath was ragged against his ear. "They'll purge the entire scene."
Zhang clutched the scanner, its screen now flashing **[LOCALIZED NARRATIVE COLLAPSE DETECTED]**. "What does that *mean*?"
A grenade rolled toward their hiding spot.
Not a grenade. A *device*, its display counting down: **[REWRITE IN PROGRESS: 00:05… 00:04…]**
Lin's nails dug into his arm. "It means we're about to stop existing."
The world dissolved into white noise.
And the last thing he saw was Lin's mouth shaping two words—*find me*—before the light swallowed them whole.