Dane hadn’t slept for three days. Not because there was no bed. Not because he was afraid of gunshots or leftover raids from the Reputation Police. But because there was another voice louder than all of that: the voice inside his own head. “Good morning, Host 01. Your current Adoration Level: 5. Cognitive efficiency increased by 12%. Recommendation: consume protein to maintain stability.” The voice appeared the moment Dane opened his eyes. Soft, calm, like an office assistant too polite to be fired. Its tone was flat, but every word stuck to Dane’s skull like tiny needles. “Die,” Dane muttered while massaging his temples. “Unable to comply,” the voice answered. “I am integrated with your visual cortex and decision-making center. Deactivation will cause permanent nerve damage.” Dane rubbed his face roughly. At the corner of his vision, small numbers floated and couldn’t be banished. The levels of the people around him. The levels of objects. The levels of food. Everything was la

The signal came every midnight.At first, only Dane noticed it. Not because he could hear it, but because he could feel it. There was an itch at his temple, like tiny needles tapping against the bone of his skull. Right at 00:00, for three seconds, then gone.“Host 01,” Dane muttered on the third day. “You’re still calling me.”He sat on the roof of City Hall, staring at a starless sky. Central City was west, dark and silent since they’d destroyed the system’s heart. But now, something from there was calling him home._The First Week After the Server Went Down_Neo-Jakarta was trying to be a normal city.Vendors started opening stalls without fear of being judged. Kids flew kites above the rubble. Mira started remembering small things: Dane’s face when he was angry, the smell of the tea they always drank in the morning, the winding way home to Sector 9.But she didn’t remember everything yet. And Dane didn’t push.“You don’t have to rush,” Dane said one afternoon as they sat by the ri

Dane’s group had been walking for five full days out of Neo-Jakarta.Five days without a voice in his head. Five days sleeping on dirt and dry leaves. Five days eating dry rations—boiled sweet potatoes, salted fish, river water they boiled—and walking under a sun no longer watched by Adoration’s satellites. But every step felt heavier, not because of sore muscles or blistered feet, but because they knew: they were walking toward something that didn’t want to be found, and that something was moving toward them too.“According to Sera’s map,” Rara said, unfolding a paper that was already wrinkled and torn at the edges, “the first backup is under the Southern Mountains. An old bunker owned by Adoration’s research division. About eighty meters deep.”“Eighty meters?” Jax grumbled, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What do we use to get down? Rope? Prayer? Or do we just jump and hope we land right on the crystal core?”“With this,” Sera answered, pulling a small tool from her canvas bag. It

The sun had just risen when Dane’s group left Beta’s post.The air was still cold. Thin fog hung between the trees. Behind them, twenty villagers from Ciranjang lay on the ground. The chips on their foreheads were dead. Their breathing was slow, but they were alive. Sera said they would wake up in a few hours, with no memory of the last three days.“Ten more,” said Dane as he walked. His voice was hoarse.“Ten more,” Mira repeated beside him. She carried a bag that held a map, supplies, and the remaining grenades.They had direction now. Sera had updated the map after pulling data from Beta’s post. The next Backup, Gamma, was under Black Lake. One hundred twenty meters deep. Two days’ travel away.But two days felt long if Beta had already sent a signal.---*Day One*They walked all day without incident. The forest grew denser. The trail disappeared more and more. Only Sera knew the direction because of her signal compass.“We have to be careful,” Sera said that afternoon. “Gamma is