Mark came back to himself on a cold concrete floor, staring up at a ceiling he suddenly understood. Not the cracks. Not the stains. The weight. This place carried memory like gravity.“You’re awake,” Tania said softly, crouched beside him. Her eyes were red, but steady. “Good. Because I was about five seconds away from slapping you.”Mark huffed a weak laugh. “You’d win.”The boy sat cross-legged a few feet away, tapping nervously on his tablet. “For the record, if you die again, I’m quitting. There are limits to unpaid internships.”Mark pushed himself upright, joints protesting. “Did Heaven leave?”The boy snorted. “Oh, no. Heaven doesn’t leave. Heaven recalculates.”Tania frowned. “That doesn’t sound comforting.”“It’s not,” the boy said cheerfully.Mark leaned back against the wall. He could feel it now, the prison responding subtly to his presence. Not obeying. Acknowledging.Like a beast that recognized the hand that once bled for it. “So,” Mark said slowly, “explain the warden

The first thing Mark noticed was the quiet. Not the peaceful kind. The aftershock kind. Like the world itself was waiting to see what would break next.They sat among the ruins of the cathedral while dawn crept in, pale light spilling over scorched stone and twisted iron. The city beyond the fence was waking up, cars passing, people arguing, life continuing like Heaven hadn’t just blinked.Tania hugged her knees, staring at her hands. “I remember everything,” she said softly, as if afraid saying it too loud would tempt fate.Mark crouched in front of her. “Anything missing?”She searched her thoughts, then shook her head. “No. It’s all… solid. Like they tried to pull me apart and failed.”The boy snorted weakly. “Yeah, that tracks. You basically slapped the admin panel.”Mark leaned back against a broken pillar, exhaustion settling into his bones. “They won’t let that go.”“Nope,” the boy agreed. “They’re regrouping. Arguing. Probably blaming each other.”Tania glanced at him. “You so

The first thing Mark noticed was the silence. Not the peaceful kind. Not the calm-after-the-storm quiet. This was the kind of silence that meant systems were working overtime.Cars moved. People walked. Screens glowed. But underneath it all, something had pulled back, like a breath being held across the city.“They’re throttling engagement,” the boy muttered, eyes locked on his tablet as they moved through the alleyways. “Shadow suppression, credibility dilution, redirect loops. Classic containment.”Tania frowned. “In English?”“They’re trying to make today feel forgettable,” Elias said. “Like it never mattered.”Mark flexed his fingers. His body still hummed faintly from the backlash. “Did it work?”The boy shook his head. “Not completely. Too many firsthand stories. You cracked the shell.”They reached an abandoned subway entrance sealed years ago. Elias pried open the rusted gate with a grunt, and they descended into darkness.As soon as Mark’s feet hit the concrete, the pressure