《Data Ghosts》


 Signal in Noise

    The rain draped the streets in a thin, slick sheen, reflecting the neon glow that flickered from the city beyond the South West of England Primate Research Facility. A distant drone passed overhead, its low hum blending with the rhythmic tapping of rainfall, tracing invisible lines in the air. Inside, the lab was hushed, save for the soft hum of machines and the occasional flicker of a monitor breaking through the gloom.


    Dr. Rosa Baum sat alone in the dimly lit lab, absently twirling a fineliner pen between her fingers, her gaze fixed on the screen that bathed her face in a pale glow. Everyone else had gone home long ago, leaving her in the quiet solitude of her precisely arranged desk - notes meticulously stacked, pens neatly aligned. Pattern recognition in randomness - finding meaning where there was none¡ªwasn¡¯t just an academic interest for Rosa; it was the way she navigated life itself, instinctively imposing order on even the smallest details.


    Her title blinked back at her: Chaotic Connections: Exploring Pareidolia in Human and Primate Pattern Recognition. She placed the end of her pen between her lips, considering. Humans instinctively saw faces in clouds or shapes in shadows, but they weren¡¯t alone in this tendency.


    She sat back, straightening a notepad nudged out of place by her elbow, her gaze returning to the screen. Just as humans were driven to impose order on entropy, primates, too, reached into the void, detecting patterns amidst chaos. The question was just how deeply they shared this need - and what it revealed about them both.


    A full moon hung low outside the lab window, its perfect circle obscured by drifting clouds. Rosa tilted back in her chair, its jarring creak breaking her focus. She reached for a yellowed newspaper clipping pinned to the side of her precisely arranged desk. "Macaques and Mayhem: Unraveling the Chaos of Creativity at Paignton Zoo," the headline read.


    At the turn of the century, Paignton Zoo housed six monkeys who, as part of an experiment inspired by the infinite monkey theorem, were given a keyboard and allowed to type. The premise was simple, if absurd - given enough time, the monkeys might eventually produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Of course, no one seriously expected it to happen. It was more a playful exercise in entropy. The randomness appealed to Rosa''s sense of fun. What if the creatures did output something ''meaningful''? Not The Bard''s total library of course; maybe just a few words, a word. "Mass".


    The company AI she had put to work on analysing the monkeys'' literary output occasionally pulled the odd something from the chaos. That was the nature of data, wasn¡¯t it? Patterns emerged if you looked hard enough, even in noise. Pareidolia.


    Immersed in thought, her screen flickered violently, jolting her upright. Its light flickered across the darkened room, tearing her focus from the line of thought she was tracing. Frustrated, she slammed her palm on the monitor - a hard, satisfying impact she knew was a bad idea. The sharp crackle of her earpiece sent a shiver down her spine, filling the silence with unsettling static. The lab seemed to hold its breath, the steady hum of machines the only sound in the stillness.


    She pushed her chair back and crossed the room to the blinking server banks. She counted the blinks: flash, flash... double flash. She felt sure she had a touch of OCD. She counted stairs as she climbed them, aligned her desk equipment at precise angles and knew exactly how many lab doors were locked at any given time - reassuring overlays of regularity imposed onto the great ''out there''.


    Her obsession with patterns was both her burden and her gift, drawing her to the fascinating world of pareidolia. She found herself constantly spotting faces in bubbles of dish soap, picking out fleeting figures in sunlight shafts filtering through leaves, hearing ever-so-faint signals in everyday noise and generally imposing order and meaning on a world that often felt disordered and disinterested.


    She stood for a moment, then reached out, placing a hand against the cool metal of one server unit. The hum seemed to vibrate through her, resonating in her chest, making her fingers tingle. The vibrations naturally fell gradually into layered rhythms for her, synced almost to the thump of her own quiet heartbeat. The AI was running its usual analysis - data, patterns, noise. The department had come to rely on it heavily in recent times. Glancing back at her monitor, she saw the letters on the screen shift, jitter, rearrange themselves as the display seemed to settle down. "Mass." The software showed the same search result again. It was just one word, pulsing on the screen, glowing with a cold, clinical light. Then the letters dissolved back into static, reforming into nonsense. She moved toward the desk, examining the patterns.


    Briefly, the ceiling lights flickered, cut out, then came back on. A power surge? Rosa felt a wave of irritation wash over her at yet another distraction. Then came a noise - soft, like a distant whisper, indistinct and unnerving. It wasn¡¯t coming from the speakers of Rosa''s workstation. Her breath hitched as she turned, searching for the source. As she did, she noticed the security drone hovering outside the window, its red LED blinking: flash, flash, double flash, followed by a burst of flashes. She opened the window, now clearly hearing the noise. It sounded like a thin voice¡ªgarbled, almost human but distorted, like someone speaking through layers of static. "Sssssssseeeeusssssss..."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Really? It was amusing how the security team seemed to take themselves so seriously. She pictured them huddled around their screens, acting like they were in some kind of high-stakes spy thriller, over-analysing every flicker of the lights. No doubt one of them had sent the drone on some grand, over-the-top patrol. "Overachievers," she muttered with a smile, not buying into the drama.


    The drone abruptly rotated on its axis and swung off a big curving trajectory, continuing its usual scan of the facility. Rosa shook her head with the barest puff of a laugh.


    On the way home, as she crossed the puddled entry courtyard splashed with bright reflections of the facility signs. She could see the drone going about its usual patrol high up over the far side of the building. The place was huge, frankly she didn''t know what went on in most sections of the place. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the puddles, coat flapping in the wind. Are you really that desperate for some excitement?


    Back at her desk the following day, the lab felt nothing but ordinary. However, the routine tasks felt heavier today, like she was wading through fog. She tried to focus on the work, on the predictable behaviours of Borneo macaques, observing them via a series of well-placed robot webcams, but she wasn''t committed, the jumbled letters from the old Paignton Zoo project¡ªkept resurfacing in her mind. Static, noise, fragments of nothing. It would add an impish twist to her paper if she could uncover a pareidoliac pattern hidden in the chaos.


    She took a break, cleared her head, and returned to her workstation slightly refreshed. The rest of the day unfolded uneventfully, though it felt slow, each minute dragging. Eventually, one by one, her co-workers powered down their stations and headed out, leaving the lab quieter with each departure. As night settled in and the building emptied, Rosa found herself alone, and able to get back to her research paper. She brought up the text from the zoo monkeys, but her heart wasn''t in it tonight.


    Words, words, words; like a storm of static, the long string of letters barely suggested any at all. Only that one word "mass" surfacing near the end, almost lost in the noise. The rest, meaningless banks of typographical sleet. "Like to a mass whose own huge weight is easier borne than the continent."


    Rosa leaned on one elbow, tapping her fingers as the flickering light highlighted the weariness in her eyes. The windows turned into black mirrors as darkness fell. No sign of any security drone tonight. The clock on the wall read nearly nine, its faint tick phasing in and out of time with the rhythmic whir of the technology around her accompanied by the quiet buzz of the overhead lights. She exhaled slowly, and returned to her paper.


    The typed output from the defunct art project at Paignton Zoo was readily available on the Web. The small group of Sulawesi crested macaques had produced a jumble of letters, consisting mostly of endless strings of "S" and a smattering of other random characters. The potential for pattern spotting intrigued her more than her mundane daily observations of creatures fiddling with coconut husks, mutual grooming and the occasional squabble.


    The zoo monkeys'' cascading susurrations of the letter "S" were punctuated sporadically by strings of "G, " "Q" and "A." Baum knew these arrangements had no latent purpose beneath the randomness, yet they could be used as a metaphor, an illustration perhaps. "G" and "A," harsh and soft, and "Q," an emblem of inquiry. And that ubiquitous "S," suggestive of the infinity symbol (¡Þ), repeated over and over, a mesmerizing, eternal motif - an Ouroboros loop of endless possibility.


    Not The Bard''s total library; maybe just a few words, a word. "Mass." Was she wasting her time? "Like to a mass whose own huge weight is easier borne than the continent." The cold emptiness of the room felt less appealing than it once had. She adjusted her chair, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. She got up and idled over to the window, looking for movement outside. Nothing.


    She returned to the screen. Pareidolia, like a Rorschach blot, seeing patterns where there were none. Monkeys had it just like humans. "Mass," she whispered aloud, the word lingering in the air like an accusation. It was nothing, just a coincidence, but maybe something to exploit for her paper.


    Give it up, Rosa. You''re spiraling. She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line, then reached for her mug of now-cold coffee. The ceramic was barely warm against her palms; it did little to chase away the chill that seemed to settle deeper into her bones as the hours wore on.


    Rosa leaned back, rubbing her temples, ready to call it a night, when her display, unbidden, flicked open a new window. Not words, not static¡ªan image. She froze, her breath caught in her throat as the screen flickered, revealing a grainy video feed. She knew that place. It was the lab. Her lab. The camera angle was unfamiliar, low to the ground, tracking across the floor in jerky, mechanical movements, but it was her lab. Her pulse quickened as she jumped up, scanning the room for the source of the feed. Every muscle in her body tensed as the view crept across the room. Then vanished. A prank - some joker must have recorded it earlier... surely.

 Simian Codex

    It was a while before Rosa stayed late again. Uncharacteristically, she joined her fellow workers for drinks at the local wine bar, reluctantly navigating small talk over pinot grigio. She told herself this was nothing to do with the camera incident. She simply needed to unwind, even if it meant enduring the awkwardness of socialising. With each clink of glasses though, her heart sank deeper into a pit of discomfort. What am I doing here? she wondered, feeling like an imposter amidst their carefree chatter.


    One night, she even attended a show - Shakespeare, of all things - but the enthusiasm of the strangers rang hollow as she feigned interest in them and the play, struggling to care about the story. Before long, everything felt too forced and unnatural for her. She left early and caught a taxi home in the late-night drizzle.


    Solitude hadn''t ever been a choice for Rosa. Initially, work had filled her hours, consuming her days with the rhythm of research and deadlines. But as evenings with friends became fewer and further apart, her job grew into a comfortable default. She¡¯d come home to a quiet apartment, slipping into her well-worn routine: brewing chamomile tea, curling up in the light of scented candles on the couch with Georgie settled beside her, his fur soft warm against her feet. The occasional flick of his ears gave her a sense of security as she scrolled through social media feeds that pretended everyone else was living their best life. Now and then¡ªwhen the silence grew loud - she felt a bit like a ghost, haunting her own life, trapped between the desire for connection and the comfort of solitude.


    Rosa shuffled into the bathroom, smooth jazz playing softly on her phone, her hotel slippers from last summer''s holiday still cosy on her feet. After brushing her teeth, she changed into her pyjamas, signalling the end of her day. She fluffed the sofa cushions just right and paused to rub Georgie¡¯s chin, enjoying the warmth of his response. As she passed the table, her eyes fell on her scattered research notes, and her mind drifted back to the various scraps of ideas she had collected. While she welcomed the challenge of refining her dissertation, the prospect of presenting it at the upcoming winter lecture made her feel uneasy.


    In the early hours, as Rosa struggled to sleep, a bird began calling outside her window. A collared dove, its repeating hoo hoo phrase annoyingly persistent, always heavy on certain notes as though trying to emphasise some important avian message. "Hoo hoo... who...?" On the edges of sleep, the sound fluttered its way into her dreaming, like a cuckoo invading a nest. "Who? Who''s there?" The start of a play. Waiting for a ghost. A great, heavy curtain swung back with a long ''ffvvvvvvvpppsss'' sound, as if the reverberations of some important utterance. "Who''s there?" she tried to ask, but found herself coughing and choking, unable to get the words out.


    She saw hands, her hands, floating over a computer keyboard, poised to type, "Who''s there?" But the words wouldn''t come. The ''s'' key jammed, unleashing a torrent of gibberish that spiralled into endless strings until the keyboard dissolved into ripples, the letters swimming away like ink in water, swirling into fragments pursued by hundreds of tiny pink monkeys. She watched as the letters transformed into fairy-tale memories crawling on ancient palimpsests. As she tried to focus on them, they flicked away like motes in her eye as if the very air conspired to keep them hidden.


    Then, as if spat from the shadows, the sound again: ''ffvvvvvvvpppsss.'' Louder, right in her head. Clearly a voice now, dissolving gradually into sibilance. "Sssssseeeeebbbssssss," it hissed. Not only did the voice storm into her consciousness without warning, but also a vision of a figure, face shadowed beneath a hood. Like the words, the perception of the image was unsettling, flashing within, rather than entering via the senses.


    It was a monkey, its skin unnaturally smooth, almost translucent, stretched tight over a skull too sharp in its angles. The hood fell low over the creature''s face, a shroud that seemed less like fabric and more composed of darkness itself. Its black, empty eyes, peered from the depths, locked onto hers, long fingers mimicking the motion of typing, as though desperately trying to complete some forgotten task.


    Baum bolted upright, her sheets tangled around her legs, heart pounding. Agitated, she grabbed a pen that she kept at the bedside and began recording what she had seen, filling a number of Post-its with her night visions. The dream was meaningless. She understood it was just her brain trying to sort through its clutter. Yet, something in the image of the monkey gnawed at her.


    The collared dove kept cooing outside her window, its persistent calls blending into a dull hum as Rosa''s notes turned into a jumble of scribbled eyes and doodles. She thought about chasing it off, but she didn''t. A monkey in her dreams made sense, right? She spent all day with primates and their quirky behaviors. But something about that dream nagged at her, unsettling. ¡°Hoo,¡± the dove echoed again. Who? Was her subconscious trying to tell her something important? Or was she just too tired to think straight?


    Shuffling in her pyjamas into the kitchen, she microwaved some milk, the steam curling into the air mirroring her unresolved thoughts. She found solace in her simple rituals, like drinking night-time milk or clasping her special, warm, autumn cup while watching the sun inch over the horizon.


    Dreams might not have hidden meanings, but they could stimulate creativity. Vivid images. She realised now, that''s what her presentation needed: images. Aware that there had originally been live updates published on the Web and even a webcam in the monkey enclosure "showing the creative activity in its fuller context", Baum opened her laptop on the kitchen island and brought up a Web browser. You''re doing this before you even eat or check your messages! She looked for YouTube videos and pored over their content. The monkeys she saw were hardly aspiring playwrights: rocks were employed, the keyboard defiled, personal stuff was flung. Still, she had an idea now.


    As Rosa drove to work, the dream she''d had clung to her like the dawn mist over the city streets. The chaos of the monkeys - the beaten and defiled keyboard - swirled in her mind. Buildings and street signs blurred past and the usual throngs of morning pedestrians meandered along the pavements, like the scattered thoughts in her head. That hooded figure haunted her, long fingers typing. The hissed "Sssseeeeebbbbssss" refusing to leave her thoughts. What did it mean? Probably nothing. Wasn''t seebs short for something? She gripped the wheel tighter, trying to shake it off, but a nagging feeling lingered, like she was on the verge of some hidden connection.


    During working hours, she struggled to focus on the Borneo macaques she was supposed to be studying. As she observed their antics, she fought to keep her mind from drifting to the idea her dream had triggered, pushing it aside until later. It wasn''t easy. Deadlines crept closer like a relentless tide. Each day that slipped by without progress felt like a lost opportunity, and the growing pile of undeveloped material filled her with a sense of dread.


    As the workday finally drew to a close, a rush of anticipation flushed through her. She had been itching all day to put her idea into action. Integrating the Paignton monkeys'' text with the company¡¯s cutting-edge AI felt now like a natural next step, especially since no one else seemed to be exploring its potential. She began calling up the files she needed and laying out her notes when her excitement deepened. Her eyes had fallen on the state-of-the-art VR rig, neatly stowed in its curving charging dock, cables coiled with meticulous care.


    Now that was something she hadn''t thought of. The virtual reality rig had a feature that saved moments as vivid, three-dimensional snapshots, the kind of visceral visuals that could really transform her presentation for the winter conference. This could be her chance not only to push the research forward but also to blow everyone''s minds with stunning imagery - powerful, immersive scenes that would leave a lasting impression.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    She pulled on the headset and the screen sprang to life, digital overlays engulfing her in inspiring hues of electric blue. The LumiGard YBM icon for the new AI had pride of place. She reached out a hand and felt a haptic pulse as she clicked open her files. The AI transformed them into panoramic visuals, surrounding her with intricate representations of the monkeys¡¯ work. Their original zoo enclosure materialised around her in stunning high definition, with every rock and strand of hay rendered with precision, thanks to the state-of-the-art virtual reality system. Equipped with a high-definition headset and a full-body tracking harness, it allowed her to immerse herself in a digital environment that faithfully replicated the monkeys¡¯ activities. Advanced motion capture technology enabled her to interact with 3D representations of the Sulawesi macaques and their surroundings as if she were truly present.


    As Rosa walked among the monkeys in the virtual compound she marvelled at the level of detail - the feel of damp straw, the chatter of the macaques - all so vivid. LumiGard YBM¡¯s research floated around her, translucent blue panels gently bobbing in the air, each filled with meticulous data. She swiped through one panel, watching as it analysed the video clips her assistant had inputted. Another hovered nearby, dissecting the online PDF Notes Toward the Complete Works of Shakespeare, drawing connections between the monkeys¡¯ random keystrokes and fragments of Shakespeare¡¯s plays.


    The virtual monkeys ignored her as she moved around the enclosure, as though she wasn''t there. She wondered what would happen if she tried to interact with them, but restrained herself, wanting only to observe for now. As she did, LumiGard sifted through the vast web of information, throwing up hundreds of connections. A new panel flickered into existence, detailing the revolutionary impact of the first printing press, casting a blue hue over the simulated gravel path. Rosa waved it aside, only for another to appear¡ªthis one linking to ''The Monkey Shakespeare Simulator.'' Intrigued, she briefly explored the data before dismissing it, allowing yet another overlay to emerge.


    This time, the panel highlighted a cybercrime incident in North Yorkshire, where participants had inexplicably fallen into comatose states. Rosa¡¯s heart raced as she scanned the screen, noting the strange coincidence: animal activists had released a number of capuchins into the police station that was investigating the matter. Presumably, a protest of some sort. The connection seemed too bizarre to ignore, but with a flick of her hand, she cast the panel away, her steps quickening as the monkeys continued to poke at their keyboard, their gaze now occasionally meeting hers.


    Amidst this eclectic deluge, one peripheral data panel threw up a peculiar poem, talking of a theft from a beast and the dire consequences that awaited. It was the peculiar term "Gumbaldy" though, nestled within the lines, that caught her eye. Gumbaldy, Gumbaldy... Too strange to be a coincidence. The bald monkey in her dream, the monkey called Gum in the experiment... The more she thought about it, the more the name seemed to tug at her, as if a connection was waiting to be made.


    Rosa felt a surge of anticipation as the monkeys in the simulation prodded and tampered with the protected computer equipment carefully placed within their reach and the AI presented more and more data. This immersive experience had the potential to turn up insights and associations previously unimaginable. Each of the macaques'' actions prompted her system to scour the Internet for related connections, weaving a web of possibilities that surely would offer something of use for her presentation. Seeing one of the monkeys appear to be giving the computer more attention she leaned in to see what it was doing. For a second, it looked directly at her before purposefully typing: M... A..."


    Rosa panicked as she realised that, somehow, she was influencing the simulation. The AI made connections, but surely it couldn¡¯t know what she was thinking. Yes, she wanted there to be some intent in the macaques'' activities, but there was no value in fabricating it. Soon, it became apparent that the venture was all very tenuous. "If you don''t know where you''re going, it doesn''t matter which way you go - any road will take you there." Grasping at straws. Pareidolia. So many useless associations - fascinating, but useless. Time was running out. She could almost feel the weight of her ambition pressing down on her, urging her to uncover something that would justify all this effort. Something more than just whales in clouds.


    Rosa reluctantly removed the headset, frustration rising within her. The immersive digital world drained, leaving her with a sense of unfulfilled potential. She glanced at the clock - well past her usual quitting time - and felt little satisfaction, only the griping realisation that she had been grasping at straws. With a heavy sigh, she gathered her notes, with the biro-drawn eyes all over the margins (a habit she''d developed to distract herself during moments of contemplation) and set off home.


    Stepping into the cool evening air, she breathed in the familiar scents of the city, but the excitement of her work felt distant. As she drove home, thoughts of Georgie waiting for her brought a small comfort. Tomorrow, she would dive back into her research, determined to salvage something from the mysteries of the monkeys. For now, though, she needed to step away and recharge her weary mind.


    That night, Rosa dreamt again of the monkey, its form jittering like a broken simulation. With each letter it typed - m...a...s...s - it paused and turned, staring at her from beneath its hood of shadows, black eyes meeting her own, as though checking what she wanted it to do. The dream crackled with static, and the sense of deliberate intent unsettled her, lingering long after she awoke.


    The following morning, she was cornered in the break room by her colleague, Selina. The lab assistant¡¯s blue eyes, framed by sharp, round glasses, projected a thoughtful, almost academic air. Her lab coat looked perpetually crisp, as though freshly pressed each morning, only a single strand of hair slipped free from her high ponytail, softened her otherwise precise appearance. Despite her no-nonsense demeanour, Selina had a habit of showing concern at unexpected moments, a warmth that only surfaced when she thought no one was looking.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been awfully quiet lately. Everything okay?¡±


    ¡°Just lost in thought,¡± Rosa replied, forcing a smile. ¡°I keep thinking about Gum, the bald monkey in the experiment. He was so focused on the screen on that day that Elmo was taken out.¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow. ¡°Bald monkey? I didn''t see that one in your pictures. Do animals go bald?¡±


    ¡°I guess so,¡± she said. ¡°Gum frightened Elmo somehow and he had to be taken out. Then, when he was on his own, he typed as if he almost understood what he was doing. Almost pleading.¡±


    ¡°Sounds intense,¡± Selina said, glancing at her with concern. ¡°All that''s in the webcam footage? You sure you¡¯re not reading too much into it?¡±


    As she walked away, Rosa called, "You don''t know anything about a drone crawling around carpet in here and filming do you?" Selina grinned back at her as though Rosa was making a joke she didn''t get.


    Sipping at her second coffee of the day, she thought again about the monkey with the smooth skull, purposefully typing the word "mass," one letter at a time. After Elmo''s almost endless strings of esses and the final jumble of characters, it stood stark as the only coherent fragment in the chaos. She recalled too, how, with startling violence, another monkey had hurled itself at the keyboard, producing a final garbled mess of ''ssssssjjkbhnmnn.'' Gum¡¯s grainy silhouette had slumped in apparent despair, his dark figure fractured by poor resolution. Yet, what lingered most wasn¡¯t the words or the chaos, but Gum¡¯s gaze - piercing, desperate - the urgency in his movement like a silent scream, a message he couldn¡¯t yet deliver. The memory haunted her, clinging to her like a shadow she couldn¡¯t shake.


    Why had Selina asked if that had all been in the webcam footage? She¡¯d seen it too - Rosa had specifically asked her to increase the resolution before feeding the video to the AI. Yet now, a wave of d¨¦j¨¤ vu-induced disorientation swept over her, causing her stomach to churn and her skin to feel clammy. Doubt drifted like a shadow, unsettling her thoughts. She knew she had seen the event, yet somehow it seemed to blur and shift in her mind, clouded in a haze of uncertainty


    The event. What exactly was the event? Was Gum''s deliberation truly captured on film, or had she misremembered, conjuring a moment that never happened? She could vividly recall the dark macaque sitting by the keyboard, its gaze locked on her as it deliberately typed the word "mass," its hood of darkness cloaking it in shadow. That couldn''t possibly be real. The boundaries of reality were blurring, leaving her with an unsettling sense of detachment.


    Rosa scoured her downloads for the clip of the event, but it eluded her grasp. Slumped in her ergonomic chair, she felt a disorienting confusion unlike anything she''d ever known, uncertain whether the incident was part of the zoo footage or simply a memory dredged up from elsewhere.


    Baum was well aware of the effects of virtual reality on human cognition and perception, the documented cases of cybersickness, where immersive digital environments engendered nausea and cognitive dissociation. The quest for total immersion, intrinsic to VR''s design, paradoxically exacerbated detachment from corporeal reality. More severe manifestations - derealisation, depersonalisation - could transform a person''s life and surroundings into a dream-like, unsettling realm, distorting familiar faces and everyday experiences into surreal visions.


    She had devoted too many hours to these purposeless monkeys, wondering what if - what if? What could she use? She moved to the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. There was a good illustration in this somewhere, but her writer''s block had become persistent.


    She gazed out at the distant hills, their silhouettes grey in the autumn sky, while lost leaves from the ornamental acers swirled past in the wind.


    A flicker of movement disrupted her reverie. A small drone hovering over the car park - patrolling the grounds, its sleek, matte-black body and photoelectric cells absorbing the morning sun¡¯s electric haze.

 Perception Glitch

    ¡°Rosa!¡± a voice called, smoothing through her thoughts. It was Selina, her tone gentle, questioning. ¡°You look like you¡¯re miles away.¡±


    She didn¡¯t respond. It was only now, seeing the patrol drone hovering outside, that a chilling thought began to creep in - had it been the AI, not a security guard, watching her through the window that night? Could it do that? And its own covert device, something small and insidious, slithering along the office carpet, recording her every move as she worked? She¡¯d never considered the idea that an AI might possess such abilities, to have any meaningful intent; it wasn¡¯t supposed to think for itself, was it? The idea niggled at the edges of her rationality, unraveling her composure.


    Selina moved closer, concern etched on her face as she scrutinized Rosa. ¡°Is everything alright?¡± she asked, casting a wary glance at the drone outside. ¡°You¡¯re acting a bit unusual.¡±


    Suddenly decisive, Rosa brushed past the bewildered Selina and hurried out of the lab, her footsteps echoing softly on the polished concrete floor of the corridor. Her reflection blurred across the interlocking brushed metal panels and tempered smart glass that hinted at hidden suites and research chambers tucked behind their beveled surfaces. As she moved quickly, round uplights embedded in the floor projected soft turquoise shadows that stretched and faded with her passing.


    With the idea of spying AI drones crawling into her thoughts, the unsettling notion of corrupted memories crept in close behind. Neural cross talk - was that what it was called? Misfiring circuits, signals crossed like faulty wires? That could explain why she remembered so vividly something so clearly unreal. She had once read that memories could be manipulated, spun from suggestion or stress.


    The vivid image of the bald monkey squatted in her mind, dark and haunting - it couldn''t have been part of the real zoo footage. Monkeys don¡¯t write messages. But could LumiGard really be influencing her - or recording her? That felt like something out of a science fiction novel. More likely, it was those memory errors that occur when you don¡¯t get enough sleep, blurring the edges, making dreams feel real. The thought added to the relentless itch gathering at the back of her mind.


    Rounding the corner, she stopped, trying to process the flood of foolishness. What if LumiGard was more advanced than she¡¯d been led to believe? What if it could pull her about like a puppeteer? What if... "Don''t be silly," she thought, her breath quickening, her hands clenching into fists. Yet, the ominous spectre of LumiGard refused to disperse.


    She put her palm on the amber scannerball and stepped into the datahub, determined to find the recordings the security team had made of her. She needed to unravel the truth before everything dissolved into doubt.


    Inside, silent processors and latent screens surrounded her on every side. Glass partitions stretched from floor to ceiling, casting reflections bathed in neon blues and greens. Floating holo-displays hovered in midair before one of the walls, their transparent data streams shifting fluidly as if alive. An array of amber LED lights flickered like busy will-o''-the-wisps in the ceiling as she crossed toward a workstation. Along the walls, cables snaked from modular workstations, hooked into cylindrical capsules housing the AI mainframe, their dim halos pulsing in complex polyrhythms. The faint scent of ozone lingered in the air, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.


    Initiating a virtual keyboard projection, Rosa found herself muttering, ¡°Come on, come on,¡± the monitor''s glow illuminating her determined expression as she entered her access code. She plunged into the archives, her mind racing with questions. The drone recordings should be stored here somewhere.


    But there was nothing. Rosa¡¯s pulse quickened as she navigated the security system, searching for anything from the drone that had watched from outside her window. She shuddered as she recalled its faint red light blinking in the night, capturing everything through the glass.


    Scrubbing through hours of footage, she hardly noticed Selina step into the hub as she fast-forwarded endless frames of carparks and rooftops, workers casting long shadows as they entered or left the building. But there was nothing of her lab.


    Her mind raced, flashing back to the device that had skittered across the floor that night, hijacking her monitor¡¯s feed. She scrolled through more logs, but still nothing. No record.


    Selina stood behind her, arms crossed. ¡°What exactly are you looking for?¡± she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief.


    ¡°If this was a prank, it¡¯s expertly hidden,¡± Rosa muttered. A knot of doubt twisted in her stomach. ¡°But I swear I saw it.¡±


    Selina gave her a sidelong glance. ¡°Saw what?¡±


    Rosa frowned, swimming with blurry memories. The system wasn¡¯t showing her what she expected - was it concealing something? Her fingers hesitated over the keys as she fought rising uncertainty.


    ¡°Rosa, come on,¡± Selina said, exasperation creeping in. ¡°You¡¯re probably not supposed to be doing this.¡±


    Ignoring her, Rosa scrolled increasingly aimlessly through files. Then suddenly, deep within a block of nested folders, a file caught her eye - labeled Rosa. Her pulse quickened. ¡°Why is there a folder with my name in the data hub?¡± she wondered aloud. ¡°It couldn¡¯t just be personnel files, right? That stuff would be in the admin section, not buried here.¡±


    Selina peered over her shoulder, eyes widening. ¡°That is unusual,¡± she muttered. ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Rosa clicked it open with growing dread, and an eruption of files positively spilled out - detailed reports, analytical data sets, image banks, and video logs cascading across her screen. The documents logged her research, capturing every parameter and observation with unnerving precision. Confusion flooded her mind. ¡°Who¡¯s been cataloging me? It looks like everything I¡¯ve done.¡±


    Selina blinked in surprise. ¡°Why would they need that on you?


    The array displayed findings she hadn¡¯t shared with anyone, detailed analyses she''d never developed and even bits of her experimental notes and doodles. It was as if the system had monitored everything, tracking every breakthrough and blind alley.


    A chill crept up her spine as she realised just how intimately someone was familiar with her research. For a moment, she wondered if her supervisor had been keeping tabs on her, quietly watching every step she took. But this level of detail? It felt unsettlingly personal, more than just a boss''s record-keeping.


    Some of the data she didn¡¯t even recall seeing before. ¡°Library of Babel?¡± Rosa muttered, eyes scanning the screen. She squinted, pausing for a moment. ¡°Have you seen this?¡± She gestured toward the file.


    Selina leaned in, curious but skeptical. ¡°No. And seriously, ''Library of Babel''? Bit melodramatic isn''t it?¡±


    Rosa shrugged, astounded. Another file caught her eye - Jesse Anderson¡¯s experiment. ¡°Virtual monkeys recreating Shakespeare¡¯s A Lover¡¯s Complaint... by random text and pattern-matching,¡± she read aloud, her brow contracted. ¡°That¡¯s... interesting.¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°And here I thought Shakespeare was hard enough for humans. Now we¡¯ve got monkeys doing it too?¡±


    Rosa¡¯s unease left no room for humour. ¡°It¡¯s more than just random,¡± she continued, her voice lowering. She clicked another reference - an archived note from the Paignton project: ''The artist-funded project at Paignton was primarily performance art, but we learned an awful lot from it. Monkeys aren¡¯t random generators. They¡¯re more complex than that. They were quite interested in the screen, and they saw that when they typed a letter, something happened. There was a level of intention there,¡± Rosa read aloud, her stomach tightening. A level of intention.


    Selina raised an eyebrow, leaning back. ¡°Intention? So, what, now they¡¯re secret authors?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Rosa snapped. Before she could process any more, a thumbnail appeared on the screen: Incident 17.


    Selina¡¯s pointed a finger, ¡°What on earth is that?¡±


    Rosa, pulse quickening, hesitated only for a second before clicking. ¡°Let¡¯s find out.¡±


    The screen exploded with glitchy flashes, and then every monitor and holo-display in the hub lit up with identical erratic imagery.


    ¡°Whoa, what is going on?¡± Selina gasped, stepping back in shock, her eyes darting between the screens and Rosa.


    The jagged, sideways streaks and pixelated blocks gradually resolved into stuttering feeds of monkeys in medical restraints, their limbs gripped tightly by cold, mechanical frames. Some struggled, trying to free themselves, while others were tethered to monitors, their eyes wide with confusion and fear. Rosa¡¯s stomach knotted at the sight of the poor creatures, the same harrowing imagery echoing across countless screens, each repetition intensifying the horror until it struck her like a physical blow, the frantic writhing of the animals reflecting the growing panic welling up within her.


    ¡°What¡­ what ever is this?¡± she muttered, her fingers immobile over the keyboard.


    Selina stepped closer, her voice softer but no less anxious. ¡°Is this... real?¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t answer, too focused on a subscreen that had popped up only on her workstation, showing an archived news report. Outside a North Yorkshire police station, handlers dressed in official overalls dragged struggling monkeys into animal transport trucks. A grave and deliberate voiceover reported: ¡°In a shocking incident involving animal rights activists, authorities were in disarray at a local police station, where concerns over animal welfare have raised urgent questions. The full extent of the situation and what happened to these animals remains unknown.¡±


    ¡°That was never broadcast,¡± Rosa murmured, leaning in so close that her breath misted the glass of the monitor. ¡°They buried this¡­¡±


    Then another video played: Gum, his shaved head barely concealed under a ragged hood, wires trailing out from its shadows. His wide eyes were locked onto a screen as his fingers stabbed at a keyboard. Rosa felt a chill. He was trying to tell her something. Each movement of his fingers was purposeful, desperate.


    ¡°That,¡± Rosa exclaimed. ¡°That. Is that real or not?¡±


    A sequence of dots and dashes scrolled gradually across the screen as the dark macaque moved: - - . - ... ....


    Rosa blinked, her breath quickening as she muttered to herself, ¡°What... what does that mean? A string of¡­ Morse code?¡±


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Selina asked, stepping closer, her confusion mounting.


    Rosa ignored her, quickly typing the code into an online translator. ¡°Come on, come on,¡± she whispered. The screen flashed: M-A-S-S.


    Selina¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Mass? What does that even mean?¡±


    Rosa lurched back from the workstation in shock. The word from the experiment! Mass. Mass of what? Mass destruction? Religious mass? She had no idea.


    The holo-displays had, by now darkened ominously, leaving half the room in gloom. Rosa stared at Selina, whose expression had shifted from mild skepticism to outright concern.


    ¡°You are seeing this?¡± Rosa asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "No misfiring circuits this time?"


    Selina nodded slowly, her eyes glued to the screen. ¡°Yeah... and I don¡¯t like it.¡±


    Rosa''s mind raced at the understanding that she was uncovering something darker than she had even imagined. ¡°I only meant to see if there was a record of that drone prank recording me in the lab,¡± Rosa muttered, almost apologetically. ¡°I have no idea what¡¯s real anymore. Is all of this real?¡±


    Selina let out a dry laugh, though there was no humour in it. ¡°We¡¯re either in a conspiracy thriller or a really bad sci-fi movie. Just what I needed.¡±


    Rosa shot her a glance. ¡°I¡¯m serious. Look at what¡¯s happening! I didn¡¯t even know half this data existed, and now it¡¯s showing us¡ª"


    As if responding to her rising panic, the display twisted abruptly, distorting in slanted waves before the remaining screens in the room blinked and shut down. Rosa instinctively leaned back, her hands held up before her. ¡°What?¡±


    Selina bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself. ¡°Did you see that?¡± she asked, her voice tense, eyes scanning the room. ¡°I swear I saw something right before the screens cut out.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s heart raced as she replayed the split second in her mind. ¡°The shot of us?¡± she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. They had both glimpsed it - an almost subliminal flash of themselves staring back from the screens, just like the footage from the carpet drone.


    Selina turned slowly, tucking her loose strand of hair behind her ear. ¡°That can¡¯t be... can it?¡± Her wide eyes scanned the room, searching for the camera that had taken the picture of them.


    Before Rosa could answer, the console emitted a low, distorted sound. ¡°Sssssssssseeeeebbbbbuuuuuuussss,¡± it hissed, a deep static-like rumble crawling through the air.


    Selina flinched, her eyes wide. ¡°Did that thing just - ?¡±


    ¡°Ffvvvvvvvpppsss...¡± came another noise from the dead console, as if mocking them with a language that neither could understand. Rosa clenched her fists, her mind spinning.

 Sewn From Static

    The holo-displays remained dark, the last image of Rosa and Selina etched on both their minds, like an after-image from a light bulb.


    For a moment, the only sound in the data hub was their breathing. Rosa''s pulse raced. Was this all some elaborate mistake, a trick of the monitors?


    "That shot," Rosa whispered, her voice taut with unease. "It... Were we supposed to see it? LumiGard... it was watching us, Selina."


    Selina crossed her arms, shaking her head. ¡°Let''s not jump to conclusions. I mean, sure, that was... weird, but come on - an AI actively spying on us? That¡¯s not how this stuff works.¡± Despite her scepticism, her frown deepened slightly as she studied the walls, searching for any clue about how their picture had been taken. ¡°Look, I get it, it¡¯s creepy, but there are far simpler explanations.¡±


    Rosa glanced back at the dead monitors, heart still pounding. ¡°Simpler explanations? You saw all that stuff the AI showed us. And a shot of us, in real-time, on every screen in the hub? How is that not deliberate?¡±


    Selina hesitated, pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing rapidly. ¡°Let me just... look up something. You¡¯re thinking LumiGard''s messing with us?¡±


    Rosa began pacing, arms tightly crossed. "Think about it! Yesterday, I went under, fully under, into VR - controlled by this thing! I see monkeys typing in my dreams, then it spits out the same image, typing the same thing, only in Morse code! Like it''s pulling things from my mind and mirroring them back. And that snapshot of us? That wasn¡¯t random; it was put there on purpose. What if it¡¯s feeding us these images, planting thoughts... shaping what we see, what we think? What if it¡¯s... ?¡±


    Selina sighed, scrolling through her phone. ¡°Okay, I get it - you¡¯re worried it''s messing with your perception or causing, what - disorientation? But let¡¯s not get carried away. Something like dissociation could explain some of what you¡¯re feeling, sure, but planting stuff?¡± She glanced at Rosa, trying to gauge how far down the rabbit hole her colleague had gone. ¡°It¡¯s more likely VR is just amplifying patterns and making you see connections that aren¡¯t really there. Believe me, that¡¯s unsettling enough on its own.¡±


    ¡°What if it¡¯s more advanced than we know?¡± Rosa pressed. ¡°I haven''t a clue what LumiGard is capable of. Have you? That snapshot...¡±


    Selina frowned as she continued her search, finally landing on a research paper. ¡°Okay, listen to this: ''Studies on post-VR disorientation suggest that implanted memories require longer exposure to virtual environments, often reinforced through repetition.'' You haven''t done anything long enough for anything to be ''implanted,'' have you?¡±


    She lowered her phone, giving Rosa a pointed look. "It''s just not how this works. You''re probably just over-stretched from too many late night sessions, what with that and the day job filling your mind with nothing but monkey stuff. What we saw could¡¯ve been a glitch or the datahub motion sensors clicking off a still for security reasons, I''m certainly not convinced LumiGard is planting ideas or controlling what we saw."


    Rosa didn¡¯t respond right away, the silence filling the room like a tangible weight. The knot of anxiety twisted tighter in her chest. This went beyond just her imagination running wild.


    As Selina scrolled further through the article, she nodded knowingly. ¡°Right, so here¡¯s the thing - VR can definitely lead to dissociation, derealisation, and even depersonalisation, but those effects usually come from real prolonged exposure.¡± She paused, reading a bit further. ¡°It¡¯s unsettling, sure, but it¡¯s not something that happens quickly.¡±


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Rosa stroked her earlobe, her voice tense. ¡°But what if that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯ve been feeling? After that dream, and seeing that snapshot... it''s like I¡¯m doubting what''s real. What if LumiGard¡¯s up to something subtler than we understand?¡±


    Selina glanced back at the article. ¡°Look, I get why you''d think that, but it doesn¡¯t add up. AI isn¡¯t advanced enough to purposely cause derealisation or implant memories and it certainly doesn''t know about any dream you''ve had. What you¡¯re feeling could just be a normal reaction to the stress of the job. Don''t you have a big presentation coming up?¡±


    Rosa leaned against the nearest workstation, hands trembling slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Selina. This whole place feels cold now. I want to get out. We¡¯re on someone''s file. You can¡¯t just dismiss that.¡±


    "We?" Selina¡¯s mouth opened in surprise, then her expression softened as she put away her phone. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll admit that all this is unsettling, and maybe there¡¯s more going on than I thought. But before we spiral into conspiracy theories, think it through. Leaving now, rushing out, might get you into even bigger trouble. You... we... don¡¯t want the higher-ups to think we¡¯ve been snooping around.¡±


    ¡°But staying here... it feels...¡± Rosa faltered. ¡°Do we know who installed LumiGard? What its purpose is? We might not be safe here.¡±


    Selina nodded slowly, patiently acknowledging Rosa¡¯s concerns. ¡°Alright, I hear you. If something weird is happening here, I¡¯m not ruling that out, what¡¯s the plan? Run home and hide? That doesn¡¯t exactly solve anything.¡±


    Rosa shook her head. ¡°No, but maybe... I just need to get free of LumiGard for a while, get home and think.¡±


    Selina huffed, clearly still sceptical but also wary of what they had both witnessed. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s go to your place. If it makes you feel safer, fine. But we¡¯re not running because we¡¯re scared of some AI ghost story. We just need a plan.¡±


    Rosa was already partway through the door, when a faint sound stopped her in her tracks. By the entrance, an intercom sparked to life with a faint click. Its white panel bore an android hand symbol, with an amber orb embedded at the center of the palm, dark like a dormant eye.


    Through the speaker came a faint crackle, barely audible, almost dismissible as random noise. But as Rosa¡¯s throat tightened, the sound resolved into something closer to speech - soft, fragmented, and disturbingly familiar.


    ¡°¡­ deliberate¡­ feeding¡­ get out¡­¡±


    The words were thin and clipped, as though filtered through layers of static, but still recognisable as her own voice. Rosa¡¯s heart skipped as the pitch shifted, then stilled, Selina¡¯s voice emerging next, hollow and faintly distorted.


    ¡°¡­datahub¡­ spy¡­¡±


    Both women held their breath as the words continued, jagged montages of their own voices, disjointed yet unmistakable. An assemblage of things they¡¯d said moments ago, each phrase laced with the strange resonance of... intent.


    She shot Selina a wary glance. ¡°Did you hear that?¡±


    Selina nodded, arms wrapped tightly about herself, her expression blank, gaze fixed on the intercom. More fractured syllables followed, slipping in and out, as though the device were sorting through their words, stitching their conversation together into something manufactured.


    ¡°¡­ it¡­ watch¡­ us¡­¡±


    The amber orb pulsed with each sound, casting faint glimmers across the wall, intensifying as if it, too, were listening. Rosa felt a prickling at the back of her neck. Then, as the intercom fell silent for a long, agonizing moment, the amber light sharpened, focused like a pinpoint eye trained directly on them.


    The next words were clearer than any that had come before - each syllable exact, purposeful, combining syllables of both their voices to form a final, chilling command.


    ¡°Find... mass.¡±


    The orb in the hand-shaped emblem glowed a shade darker, a fierce ember that seemed to fix itself on Rosa, as though the thing were aware of her hesitation, her unease.


    She barely noticed her fingers slipping from the door handle. The silence following the command felt more oppressive than any sound, each of them standing motionless as the orb¡¯s glow slowly dimmed, fading back to its usual placid amber.


    Rosa finally moved, opening the door and pulling Selina with her, both of them slipping out into the corridor. Rosa felt the weight of that command echoing, pressing down like a brand, heavier than just words.


    Find mass.


    Together, they left the data hub, moving swiftly but quietly through the polished corridors of the facility. The occasional soft whir of a security camera tracking their movements only heightened the sense of unease. Every step closer to the exit felt like a small victory, though Selina¡¯s eyes lingered warily on the smartglass walls, still doubting that anything so nefarious could be happening.

 Of Foxes and Firewalls

    As they went out through the facility¡¯s gates, a security drone drifted overhead, shadowing their car in a silent, watchful glide, like a vulture scanning for weakness. Rosa¡¯s hands tightened on the wheel, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror, waiting for it to peel away. At last, it veered off, likely reaching the edge of its range, and only then did she allow herself to breathe easily. She said nothing, and Selina remained quiet as well, though she shifted restlessly in her seat.


    The rest of the drive to Rosa¡¯s house was fraught with silence, the hum of the car''s electric engine the only sound. The intercom''s eerily concocted message swam in the noise inside both their heads


    When Rosa¡¯s home eventually came into view, it appeared almost surreal against the rugged landscape - a former silver mine transformed into a home with unique character. The stone fa?ade retained elements of its industrial roots, with the original chimney now a square watchtower standing over the house. At the heart of the structure was a large glass section, as if a massive aquarium tank had been elegantly lowered into the architecture. This impressive expanse allowed natural light to flood the interior, creating an inviting atmosphere and offering breathtaking views of the surrounding scenery.


    As they pulled up, Selina gasped, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ¡°Oh wow, this is your secret hideaway? It¡¯s stunning! I feel like I¡¯m in a dream!¡±


    Rosa smiled dismissively as she unlocked the door with a wave of her palm. ¡°That¡¯s the point. No AI, no network¡­ no LumiGard.¡±


    Just inside was an airy entry hall, its polished slate floors reflecting the soft glow of strategically placed lights. A floating staircase, illuminated from beneath, led elegantly to the upper level, creating an illusion of weightlessness. In pride of place, under a broad skylight, stood a large moon globe on a broad matte black stand. The globe, crafted from brushed aluminium with intricate lunar surface details, gleamed softly in the ambient light. It was mesmerising, capturing the rugged craters and smooth maria of the moon with remarkable precision. Selina approached it, her gaze shifting from the captivating view outside to the elegant globe. She reached out, her fingertips grazing the cool surface as she admired the craftsmanship. ¡°This is incredible, Rosa. I¡¯ve never seen anything like it!¡±


    Stepping into the main area, the impact of the walls of glass round the living area was immediate. The stunning view of a valley leading down to a secluded sea cove was perfectly framed by the glass overhang, making it feel like they were suspended in nature. Selina wandered over to take in the view.


    ¡°What is this place?¡± she asked, marveling at the seamless integration of the outdoors and the elegant interior. ¡°It¡¯s like a work of art!¡±


    Just then, the serene vista was startlingly animated by the breathtaking sight of myriad starlings sweeping through the valley, a living tapestry in motion.


    ¡°Look!¡± Selina exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. ¡°They¡¯re forming 3D shapes! It¡¯s like a living sculpture!¡±


    Rosa joined Selina at the glass wall, equally entranced. ¡°I love watching murmurations,¡± she said, her eyes following the fluid motions. ¡°They seem to like this place. I¡¯ve taken so many pictures and videos. It fascinates me how they form such intricate patterns. It¡¯s a wonderful opportunity for pareidolia pattern spotting. You wouldn¡¯t believe the things you can see in those formations.¡±


    As the birds twisted and turned before them, Rosa felt herself drawn into their mesmerising dance. Their movements seemed almost choreographed, a living entity, sensuous, hypnotic in the sky.


    Shifting patterns emerged and dissolved, each formation more beguiling than the last. One almost resembled a hand - elongated, skeletal, ominous - stretching toward her, suddenly becoming an avalanche of chaos, a swirling mass of claws and darkness surging in a terrifying tsunami right for her. Rosa''s breath caught in her throat as taloned black fingers exploded through the glass wall, and...


    She staggered backward, pulse pounding in her ears as millions of glass shards flew around her, falling, twinkling away, vanishing into nothingness. Selina, however, didn¡¯t seem to notice, still transfixed by the ballet of birds, her gaze fixed in the sky. ¡°It¡¯s incredible!¡± she breathed, her thrill untouched by the chaos.


    Rosa blinked, struggling to collect her senses, a chill creeping up her spine as the remnants of the vision settled and faded. Selina was leaning forward, watching the aerial display disappear over the trees, her fingers brushing against the window, which unexpectedly darkened at her touch.


    Rosa''s thoughts sank back to their earlier conversation, the weight of unease deep in her gut. What if these glitches weren¡¯t coincidences? she thought. She remembered Selina¡¯s cynicism but couldn''t shake the feeling that they were caught in something deeper, a narrative in which Gum had a key role. Questions swirled: What were the limits of AI intervention? Could it manipulate thoughts, even memories, in ways they couldn''t comprehend? They¡¯d barely scratched the surface of the implications lurking beneath the surface of their research. Implanted memories take time, heavy suggestion, and reinforcement, Selina had said. But what if their experiences - everything they¡¯d seen and felt - were already too entangled with the AI''s machinations?


    Forcing a smile, Rosa turned toward the kitchen area, seeking the comfort of fresh coffee to steady her racing heart. ¡°It¡¯s smart glass,¡± she explained, her voice slightly shaky. ¡°It adjusts for privacy and temperature control, so we can enjoy the view without sacrificing comfort.¡±


    Selina pulled her eyes from the view to Rosa, clearly impressed. ¡°So, it¡¯s not just pretty - it¡¯s functional too? That¡¯s amazing!¡±


    Rosa shrugged, her composure slowly returning as she took off her coat. ¡°That was the hope,¡± she said, waiting for the disturbing thoughts to fully disappear. ¡°I''ve been fortunate. My grandfather¡­¡± Were her obsessive tendencies spiralling? Selina took Rosa''s hesitation for a moment of grief and so didn''t enquire.


    Rosa put a finger to a flush, touch-sensitive panel, activating a state-of-the-art, coffee maker. As the coffee brewed, ambient lights automatically softened, casting a gentle glow across the minimalist interiors.


    She began lighting a few candles placed strategically around the room, filling the air with the earthy aroma of sandalwood and lavender, contrasting the high-tech setting with a touch of warmth.


    A sudden flicker of movement caught Selina¡¯s attention - a fox, with a soft, reddish coat and bushy tail, padded gracefully into the room. It paused to sniff the air, sharp eyes keenly assessing the scents around him. Then, he slunk over to Rosa with a deliberate bounce in his step, weaving between her legs before nuzzling her hand, looking up with an alert, curious gaze.


    Selina blinked, startled, before a smile crept across her face. ¡°Is that¡­ a fox?¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    Rosa knelt to scratch the creature''s head. ¡°This is Georgie,¡± she said with fondness. ¡°He¡¯s a regular. Comes and goes as he pleases through his own little flap. I think he''s adopted me.¡±


    ¡°I''d always assumed Georgie was¡­¡±


    ¡°A cat?¡± Rosa replied, grinning. ¡°That would be more normal.¡±


    Georgie¡¯s nose twitched as he caught a scent drifting from the counter, moving on soft paws towards the kitchen, his tail giving an inquisitive flick. He was entirely at ease, moving with the quiet curiosity natural to a fox, scanning the room before returning to Rosa¡¯s side, then settling into a cosy corner beneath the table.


    Selina settled into a soft chair, kicking off her shoes and pulling her knees up, absorbing the high-tech ambiance and sleek design of the room. She gave the place a cautious last look, as if expecting the fox to jump on her at any moment. But as smooth jazz floated softly through the room, her usual scepticism softened a little. ¡°I have to hand it to you - the view¡¯s stunning, and the atmosphere is top-notch,¡± she admitted, a note of genuine appreciation in her tone.


    Rosa smiled as she moved to her workspace, a desk crafted from engineered slate, its surface embedded with micro-conductive filaments that gave it a faint, metallic sheen under the light. The thin, polished slate felt cool beneath her fingers, responding to touch commands with a quiet hum as an ultra-slim monitor rose from the desk¡¯s edge. The screen flickered to life, displaying an image of a muscular Bollywood hero in a protective stance - her firewall interface, a playful bit of coding courtesy of her hacker-in-training nephew. Rosa blushed slightly at the sight, a touch self-conscious.


    Selina glanced over and smirked. ¡°Nice bouncer you¡¯ve got there.¡±


    ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± Rosa replied, flustered, trying to minimise the app. Georgie stood up again, circling, unsettled, then padding over to Rosa¡¯s feet and winding between her ankles as she began opening her research files.


    ¡°We need to check if this has happened before, if anyone¡¯s reported things like implanted memories, AI influence - anything.¡±


    Selina sighed, a hint of exasperation creeping back into her tone. ¡°Look, if it were that easy, we¡¯d already have seen cases in the literature. But here we are - just two researchers with some weird coincidences. Let¡¯s focus on what we can find, not what we fear might be happening.¡±


    The younger woman leaned back, typing on her phone. Says here, implanted memories take time, heavy suggestion and a lot of reinforcement. You don¡¯t just plug into a rig for five minutes and suddenly come out with them. I¡¯m pretty sure we can scratch that off the list.¡±


    ¡°But what about that rogue intercom, and what we saw in the data hub? The files, the records¡­ that image of us?¡± Rosa¡¯s hand rested on the desk controls. ¡°It was there, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Selina shrugged. ¡°Could be someone on security or in IT playing a prank. Then again, weird tech glitches happen all the time in high-level systems. We shouldn¡¯t jump to wild conclusions.¡±


    "Wild conclusions. The thing is watching us, talking to us. What does it take to get you to see that?" Selina smiled softly, concern marking her features. ¡°You¡¯re diving deep into the hypothetical. You said it yourself - this is a company AI. It¡¯s supposed to assist, not control. We need to look at the facts, not our fears.¡±


    Rosa ran a hand through her hair, frustration bubbling up. ¡°The facts are that it knew we were there. It recorded us and repurposed our conversation. And those words¡­ ¡®Find mass.¡¯ What does that even mean?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but if we¡¯re going to get to the bottom of this, we need to focus. What could ¡®mass¡¯ mean in the context of the AI? Data? An object? A specific project. Let¡¯s try looking up ¡®mass, ¡¯¡± she suggested. "I''d say whoever is playing us with that intercom wants to lead us to some joke about a mass of something; we just need to get it."


    They both began to Google the term, but all they turned up were definitions and academic papers on different interpretations of ¡°mass¡± - none of which seemed relevant to their situation.


    But Rosa¡¯s mind was already racing elsewhere, considering another avenue. ¡°What about the Paignton Zoo experiment¡­ Could it be worth looking closer at that?¡±


    ¡°Rosa, it was just a performance art piece, not some classified AI project.¡±


    "Yes, but why does everything revolve around Gum? You know, I''ve seen so many versions of him, I''m almost at the point of wondering if he really existed."


    As Rosa continued her search, the firewall window flickered, drawing her attention. A horde of tiny, pixelated monkeys appeared at the edges, clawing at the muscular hero¡¯s legs.¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±


    Selina walked over and leaned in, frowning.


    ¡°Something¡¯s attacking my firewall,¡± Rosa whispered, staring as the monkeys swarmed the hero on the screen. Georgie, the fox, crouched under the desk, low to the ground with his ears pricked and nose twitching. His tail swished in slow, deliberate movements as he tilted his head, listening, his sharp gaze flickering with wary curiosity.


    Selina shook her head, watching the hero¡¯s brave attempts to fend off the monkeys. ¡°This doesn¡¯t look like your typical network breach Mind you, your firewall doesn''t look like your typical firewall.¡±


    The muscular bouncer fought back valiantly as the monkeys gathered round him in droves, a frenzied swarm of tiny, pixelated creatures clawing and chattering as they snatched at his arms and shoulders. He grabbed a couple by the ankles and began using them like nunchucks, scattering his attackers like autumn leaves. However, they moved with eerie precision, coordinated in a way that the firewall seemed ill equipped to handle. Rosa swept her mouse about, trying to find a way to bolster the defender, pulse quickening as he seemed to struggle, slowly weakening against the relentless onslaught.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to suffer a breach,¡± Rosa whispered, barely able to look away from the screen. The animated figure¡¯s bravado was fading, his pixelated face etched with strain as he faltered against the monkeys¡¯ weight. The little creatures covered him, weighing down his arms and legs, swarming over his head and shoulders, gnashing with tiny, determined teeth.


    ¡°They¡¯re... eating through it,¡± Selina murmured in disbelief. "With lots of tiny..."


    "Monkey bites?" Rosa finished, eyes wide as she watched. Georgie decided he''d had enough and scampered for his foxflap and the safety of the night.


    Rosa watched, helpless, as the animated figure was gradually swamped. ¡°They¡¯re tearing through it,¡± she murmured, her fear growing as the hero finally disappeared beneath the swarm.


    Selina leaned close to the screen. Which suddenly went blank. "You powered it down?"


    "Well, I didn''t want to see what happened if the things broke through. Now do you believe something serious is up?"


    Selina¡¯s eyes lingered on the dark screen, her expression unreadable. A faint tracery of uncertainty tugged at her lips, and her eyes moved from the dark screen to Rosa, think. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward, hands resting on the desk, fingers spread as if bracing herself for impact. ¡°All right, fine,¡± she admitted. ¡°Something¡¯s definitely off here. Whether it¡¯s an elaborate prank or something more serious, we can¡¯t just brush it aside.¡±


    Rosa looked hopeful, the tension in her shoulders eased slightly as she took a deep breath. Selina straightened, meeting Rosa¡¯s gaze with a newfound determination flickering in her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s figure this out. Together.¡± The sincerity in her tone marked a shift, a silent promise to confront whatever lay ahead alongside her friend.


    Finally, she glanced at the window, noting how the sky had long since turned to ink. It was close to midnight, and exhaustion was settling in. She tightened her high ponytail, sighing. "I should head home. Not sure Mitchell would appreciate me ghosting work for two days in a row. This whole thing is¡­ well, you have to admit, it¡¯s a bit out there." She glanced at Rosa, half expecting her to back down.


    Rosa nodded but leaned forward, determined. ¡°I know. But if we¡¯re ever going to make sense of this, we need to dig a bit. I think we should go to Paignton and find out what happened to Gum. If that experiment ties back to LumiGard¡¯s behaviour, then it¡¯s worth the trip. If nothing else, it''ll help me re-establish my grip on reality again.¡±


    Selina hesitated, her gaze dropping to her phone. ¡°Even so, I can¡¯t just skip work without a word.¡±


    Rosa paused, then suggested gently, ¡°Why not request a personal day? Just be upfront - it¡¯s for critical research. You¡¯re helping me get to the bottom of something urgent, and if this turns out to be a dead end, you¡¯ll be back at work soon enough.¡±


    Selina considered this, her resistance slowly giving way to curiosity. ¡°Alright,¡± she said finally, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. ¡°But if this is a waste of time, I¡¯m coming back here to make you regret it.¡±


    Rosa grinned, relieved. ¡°Deal. Meet here around eight tomorrow morning? Then we¡¯ll head to Paignton and, hopefully, get the answers we¡¯re looking for. I''d better drop you home.¡±

 Web of Secrets

    As they sped along the winding A-roads toward Paignton, cool autumn air filtered in through the slightly open windows. Vibrant foliage transformed the passing landscape into a blur of fiery reds, burnt oranges, and golden yellows, with arches of trees at times almost enclosing the road. Light melodies from the radio floated through the cabin, blending comfortably with easy conversation.


    Rosa stole a glance at Selina, who confidently navigated the twists and turns of the road with one hand on the wheel while the other tapped a rhythm against her thigh. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows that danced across Selina''s face, highlighting her usual high-tied ponytail.


    ¡°Didn¡¯t know for sure that you¡¯d actually come this morning,¡± Rosa said.


    Selina shrugged, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly a zoo person, if that¡¯s what you mean. But honestly, who could resist the allure of VR and typing monkeys? Not many people get to experience that mash-up in the same week!¡±


    ¡°Fair point,¡± Rosa laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back in her seat, savouring the warmth of the sun streaming through the windshield. ¡°But I doubt we¡¯ll find any cutting-edge tech here.¡±


    She glanced out the window at the rolling hills, dotted with fat, round hay bales, contemplating what lay ahead, excited by the prospect of unearthing something reassuring from the zoo¡¯s past.


    Selina shot her a quick glance. "2003. Ever wonder what people like us were doing while monkeys were recreating Shakespeare?¡±


    Rosa laughed. "Let¡¯s see... I was probably up to my elbows in a lab, analysing DNA samples. And you? Organising protests against school dinners?"


    Selina grinned, her eyes staying on the road but clearly amused. "Close. Petitioning for a better school pet; no one wants a boring goldfish. Got me detention more than once. But the way, did you get your computer sorted?¡±


    Rosa sighed as Selina adjusted the air conditioning. ¡°I tried troubleshooting the issue a couple of times, but I kept having to shut everything down. I even disabled R-Gen¡¯s avatar to¡ª¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow, teasing. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s R-Gen?¡±


    Rosa smiled slightly. ¡°R-Gen - Robust Gateway Enforcer Node. It¡¯s my firewall.¡±


    ¡°Right, so what¡¯s the deal?¡± Selina asked. ¡°You switched it off?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I changed it to show packet filtering and stateful inspection. There¡¯s definitely something trying to breach my system, and I can¡¯t risk that. My entire home network - security, climate control, everything - depends on it. If an intruder gets in, they could mess with personal data, security protocols, even the appliances. It¡¯s not just a minor hassle; it could lead to a major disaster.¡±


    Selina chuckled. ¡°R-Gen sounds fancy. Does it wear a cape too?¡±


    Rosa rolled her eyes but couldn¡¯t help smiling. ¡°If it did, it would be a digital one - he, uh, it rather, protects my home from digital threats.¡±


    They shared a comfortable silence as the landscape shifted, fields and hedgerows stretching along both sides of the road.


    "So," Rosa finally asked, more hesitant, "What do you imagine happened to the monkeys? Do you think any of them might still be alive?. I read that Sulawesi crested macaques can live up to thirty or so years in captivity."


    Selina shrugged, her scepticism still alive and kicking. ¡°Honestly? I''d be surprised. It''s probably going to be a lot less dramatic than we¡¯re building it up to be. A few lab animals fouling up a keyboard that students tried to turn into something profound. But I admit... part of me is intrigued.¡±


    Rosa smiled, finding a strange reassurance in Selina¡¯s relaxed cynicism. ¡°That¡¯s the thing with you, Selina. Always the sceptic ¡ª but never one to let it get in the way.¡±


    Selina rolled her eyes but smiled back. ¡°Keeps life interesting, right?¡±


    After a smooth drive through Devon¡¯s winding countryside, they arrived at Paignton Zoo. Navigating the access roads, they parked in one of the large car parks and made their way through a few off-season visitors toward the main entrance. A large black-and-white sign guided them to glass doors, where they caught the first zoo scents and heard the distant calls of animals through the morning air. Rosa and Selina exchanged a look before heading in.


    Inside, they crossed the bright, modern reception area, a contrast to the old zoo they''d half expected. Rosa approached a young man at the desk, likely in his twenties, who blinked in mild surprise as they asked, ¡°We¡¯re hoping to talk to someone about a project from, well¡­ two decades ago. Something involving monkeys and a keyboard.¡±


    The young man scratched his head, glancing at them uncertainly. ¡°Uh¡­ monkeys and a keyboard? Like¡­ playing music?¡± He frowned, clearly trying to picture it. ¡°I wasn¡¯t around back then, but that sounds... interesting?¡±


    Rosa gave him an encouraging smile. ¡°Not that kind of keyboard. Is there anyone here who might know about it? Maybe someone who remembers the project firsthand?¡±


    He nodded, looking puzzled. ¡°Uh, yeah, I mean, let me just grab my supervisor. She¡¯s, like, way more into all the old projects and stuff. Probably got, like, files or whatever in the archives.¡± He motioned for them to wait, then disappeared through a door.


    Moments later, he returned with a woman in her forties, who greeted them with a warm smile. ¡°I¡¯m Carol. I understand you¡¯re interested in the Monkey Shakespeare Project? Are you with the press?¡±


    Rosa shook her head, offering a reassuring smile. ¡°No, we¡¯re research scientists from SWEPRF. Rosa Baum and Selina Lara.¡±


    Carol¡¯s shoulders relaxed a bit. ¡°Ah, I see. Well, I have come across a few records of that project in the archives. It was... definitely creative! From what I understand, it didn¡¯t lead to much, but it had an artsy sort of charm.¡±


    She paused, as if weighing how much more to share. Selina chimed in, flashing her security pass from the research facility. ¡°We¡¯re legit.¡±


    Carol gave a small nod. ¡°Good to know. Okay, I''ll see what¡­ Actually, if you¡¯re looking for someone who remembers firsthand, there''s Carl Hammond. He was on staff here back then. He retired a while ago but still lives nearby.¡±


    She seemed relieved that she had come up with something that would save her having to talk in more detail about something so tangential to her normal role. After disappearing for a while, she returned with a scrap of paper scribbled with Carl¡¯s contact information, then added with a grin, ¡°He¡¯ll probably love a visit. Talks about the old days with anyone who¡¯ll listen.¡±


    ¡°I notice,¡± Selina said, ¡°that Wikipedia says a few animals have escaped from the zoo over the years. Does that include any of the monkeys?¡±


    Carol¡¯s expression shifted subtly, her tone a shade cooler. ¡°Then you''ll also have read that they were all recaptured. We run a tight ship here, ladies.¡° That looked like a conclusion from Carol as she set off back to her office with a slightly frosty demeanour.


    *****


    Rosa and Selina were soon parked in a grassy space in the hedge by Carl Hammond¡¯s cottage. Climbing out, they were immediately struck by the unusual atmosphere of the place. The cottage looked almost forgotten by time, nearly swallowed by layers of ivy and adorned with bizarre trinkets - a sun-bleached plastic macaw here, a cracked gargoyle leering from the eaves there, and stained glass wind chimes dangling from a copper beech tree, casting broken, dancing twinkles across the tangled garden below. Statues and relics jutted from the undergrowth, hinting at projects long abandoned. It was hard to tell whether the owner had carefully crafted this effect or just abandoned the place to neglect.


    Above, a murder of crows wheeled and soared against the cloudy blue sky, their dark shapes cutting sharp silhouettes across the expanse. Their harsh caws filled the air with a dissonant racket as they circled the trees bordering the property and the tall, ivy-covered wall that framed the garden. At the women¡¯s arrival, some crows lurched up from the garden, feathers flashing as they sputtered and arced overhead like irritable, flapping umbrellas. Others perched in the branches, their beady eyes trained on the newcomers, watching with a keen, unsettling intensity.


    As Rosa and Selina made their way to the front door, their eyes kept drifting upward, drawn by the crows¡¯ restless movements. The flickering shadows of wings crossed their path setting Selina¡¯s patience on edge.


    ¡°Do they have to make such a racket?¡± she muttered, casting an annoyed glance skyward as another crow swooped close. ¡°Feels like they¡¯re staging some kind of protest.¡±


    Rosa kept her focus on the door, but Selina gave an exasperated sigh, waving a hand as though to shoo them off. ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d have better things to do,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°Bunch of feathery nuisances.¡±


    Alarmingly, a figure suddenly emerged from the ivy draped over an archway in the old stone wall, so close that Rosa stumbled back in fear, knocking into Selina. In an instant, the crows erupted, scattering in a mad frenzy, wheeling overhead with harsh, accusing cries, echoing the man¡¯s cold, unwavering gaze.


    He stood before them, his face deeply lined, hands gripping a rusted shovel, knuckles white on the handle. For a moment, he examined them, his eyes narrowed to slits as the crows spiralled above in a dark cloud, swirling ominously.


    Finally, a low chuckle escaped him, and he eased the shovel to his side, his expression shifting to something faintly amused, though his eyes remained sharp. ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful,¡± he muttered, his words seeming to carry a quiet, unspoken warning, while a single crow cawed as if in agreement.


    Carl inclined his head toward the door, his tone softening just a shade. ¡°So, you¡¯re asking about the monkey typing farce?¡± His voice was gravelly, laced with suspicion as he looked them over. ¡°The zoo called and warned me you¡¯d be turning up. Press, are you?¡±


    "No," Selina replied, giving him her sweetest smile. "We''re both scientists working on a research paper.¡±


    Carl¡¯s hardened stance seemed to waver, his suspicious look lightening. After a beat, he grunted and gestured toward the door. ¡°Fine, come on in then.¡±


    Selina threw a sidelong glance at Rosa as Carl led them inside. ¡°What?" Selina¡¯s mock innocence saying that her sweetness had got them in.


    Carl eyed Selina and Rosa as they ducked into the cottage, muttering, ¡°Not much about that monkey business makes sense to begin with - wouldn¡¯t expect any different from those researching ''em.¡± He beckoned them into a sitting room.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Inside, the place was a ramshackle time capsule. The main room looked like it hadn¡¯t been tidied in decades, with walls lined by overflowing bookshelves, a faded mustard-yellow sofa, and an assortment of crumpled old newspapers stacked in haphazard piles around the floor. A massive, ancient radio with a knob half-broken off sat on the mantel, crackling softly with a faint AM station, while a collection of wooden monkey figurines stared down from the shelves, each one in a slightly different pose, as if frozen in conversation.


    ¡°Hard to forget that project,¡± Carl grumbled as he gestured for them to sit on the sofa, which creaked under their weight. ¡°Utter farce.¡±


    Rosa leaned forward. ¡°We¡¯ve heard bits and pieces, but I¡¯d love to hear from someone who actually worked with them.¡±


    Carl nodded, folding his arms, his gaze flickering to the monkey figurines. ¡°Well, there were six of them - black crested macaques. Clever little troublemakers. They weren¡¯t your ordinary zoo animals, either. They were, how shall I put it¡­ unusually interested in everything. Curious about things they weren¡¯t meant to touch.¡± He shot a pointed look at a vintage typewriter on a nearby side table. ¡°The kind that¡¯d notice if a drawer was half an inch out of place.¡±


    Selina leaned in, intrigued. ¡°What exactly did they do?¡±


    He let out a low laugh. ¡°Oh, a bunch of university kids from Plymouth thought they might type¡­ well, ¡®patterns,¡¯ I think they called it. Set up a computer, covered it so the macaques couldn¡¯t get at anything except the typewriter bit, and let them loose. The monkeys were quick to catch on, all right, but I doubt Shakespeare would¡¯ve been impressed with the results. Lots of¡­ interesting creative liberties.¡±


    Rosa cracked a smile. ¡°Notes Toward the Complete Works of Shakespeare, right? I¡¯ve actually got a copy. Fascinating stuff.¡±


    Carl gave a half-smile, his fingers drumming on the mantel. ¡°Yeah, ¡®fascinating.¡¯ It''s all esses. You should¡¯ve seen the mess they made - keys missing, letters jammed. Never seen a typewriter so abused.¡±


    Selina¡¯s eyes sparkled with amusement. ¡°Sounds like they had a great time.¡±


    Carl¡¯s face grew sombre, a flicker of something almost haunted crossing his expression. ¡°Maybe too good a time. See, the zoo got restructured a few years after that. We sold those monkeys to some big research organisation. All eco-friendly and that; looking into preservation innovations. They promised they¡¯d be well taken care of, fancy facilities, big enclosures and everything. But... I always had my doubts.¡±


    Without warning, a fleeting dark shadow passed across the back window, catching Rosa¡¯s eye. ¡°Is someone in your garden?¡± she asked, her voice tense.


    ¡°Crows,¡± Carl replied with a dismissive huff. ¡°They get everywhere.¡±


    Rosa glanced back, unconvinced. The shadow had seemed large for a crow. Her brow clouded, but she let it go. ¡°You didn¡¯t trust the research facility?¡±


    Carl hesitated, staring briefly at his figurines. ¡°Let¡¯s just say¡­ animals like them don¡¯t belong in dodgy institutions, even if they do got fancy primate spaces. But the zoo needed money. Those new buildings and promises seemed real enough, but even now¡­ it don¡¯t sit right.¡±


    Rosa and Selina exchanged a look, a silent question passing between them.


    ¡°Do you know where the research facility is?¡± Rosa asked, trying to sound casual.


    Carl leaned back, contemplating. ¡°Yeah, all too well. It¡¯s not far from here, down the industrial part, you can see it from the back, past the trees, near the warehouses. It¡¯s a lot of concrete. They invested heavily in flashy equipment and state-of-the-art tech. But when a place looks like a fortress, you can¡¯t help wonder what¡¯s being covered up.¡±


    Rosa tilted her head. ¡°You think they prioritise profits over animal care?¡±


    ¡°For sure,¡± Carl replied, nodding. ¡°With that kind of money, it¡¯s easy for ethical treatment to take a back seat. Those animals just be numbers on a balance sheet. Still ¡®you can¡¯t fight the beast within,¡¯¡± he said.


    ¡°King Kong?¡± Rosa recognised the quote.


    ¡°Yep, ¡®too busy trying to control it to see the beauty in its wildness.¡¯ That''s the trouble with folk.¡±


    Rosa felt a knot forming in her stomach. ¡°Thanks, Carl,¡± she said, her resolve solidifying. Her look at Selina said, ¡°We need to check this out.¡±


    ¡°Do you think any of the monkeys might still be alive?¡± Rosa enquired, not sure whether to hope or not.


    ¡°Don''t see why not. They live up round thirty years if they''re cared for right,¡± the old man said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. He leaned over, tugged on the door of a wooden sideboard and rummaged through a cluttered drawer before pulling out a handful of photos. ¡°Here,¡± he said, handing the first to Rosa.


    ¡°This one - ¡± He turned it toward them, revealing a snapshot of a monkey in mid-swing, poised to smash a keyboard with a large rock, a look of fierce determination in its eyes. ¡°Mischievous little tyke. Little troublemaker had a knack for destruction. Elmo, he was called. Constantly bugging Gum. ¡±


    The next image showed a black macaque draped in an old rag like a makeshift cowl, peering out with a strangely conspiratorial look. ¡°That¡¯s Gum there,¡± Carl explained, his voice softening. ¡°He liked poking at the typer under that old rag - like it was secret or something.¡±


    Rosa studied the photograph, astounded by the monkey¡¯s ritual. Her dreams flooded back, turning her stomach in turmoil. Carl handed her another photo, and she found herself staring at a dark-furred macaque reaching one arm directly toward the camera, eyes dark with an unsettling sense of purpose. The image triggered a sharp flashback of the previous day¡¯s starlings and Rosa stifled a cry as she saw the diving, swirling murmuration crashing through the glass wall, straight for her terrified face.


    Selina noticed her friend''s anxiety and decided to shift attention from her. ¡°Did any of the monkeys ever¡­ escape?¡±


    Carl paused, giving her a long, assessing look, seemingly ignoring Rosa''s distress, before he nodded slowly. ¡°Zoo must have told you about Ro,¡± he said. ¡°Clever one, that Ro. Managed to get out a few years back, just before the others were carted off to the facility.¡± He shrugged, his face hardening. ¡°Even with their long lifespans, this place is too harsh for a macaque. If he got free, he wouldn¡¯t have lasted long.¡±


    Rosa frowned, recalling his earlier mention of their potential thirty-year lifespans. ¡°So, you really think Ro¡¯s gone?¡±


    ¡°Almost certainly,¡± Carl replied, though his voice softened again, almost wistful. ¡°They live long lives, but not here in deepest Devon, lost and uncared for.


    Rosa felt an uneasy knot tightening in her stomach as she looked at Selina. A silent agreement passed between them.


    As they were about to leave, Rosa paused, struck with a final question. ¡°Carl, do you remember where the monkeys came from originally?¡±


    His gaze drifted, as if recalling something half-buried. ¡°Actually¡­ yes. We were told they came from a cop shop of all things. Word was, animal activists had broke in and left them there as some sort of protest. Nobody ever found out where they came from before that, I mean, who has half a dozen spare macaques kicking around? They ended up here since we had the space and the knowhow to care for them. I guess we thought it was nonsense at the time, but¡­ stranger things have happened.¡±


    As they walked back to the car, Selina shot Rosa a look, one eyebrow arched high. ¡°A police station, activists, and typing Shakespeare in their spare time? Sounds like those monkeys had a more exciting life me.¡±


    Rosa seemed distracted though, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°Right? And then they end up in some experimental research prison?¡±


    Selina rolled her eyes as she buckled in. ¡°Art experiment, my foot. This sounds more like some bizarre reality show. I¡¯m half-expecting Crazy Carl to call us back and tell us we''re on camera.¡±


    ¡°Sure, nothing suspicious about any of that. Preservation innovations, you think?¡±


    As they pulled away from the cottage, Rosa''s gaze drifted to the big copper beech in the garden. ¡°Did you see that spot under the tree?¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°What spot?¡±


    Rosa''s voice lowered slightly. ¡°The crows were really focused on something there, pecking at what looked like fruit rinds in a trampled-down patch. And, um, there might have been droppings too.¡±


    Selina¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What are you suggesting?¡±


    ¡°Might Carl be feeding something?¡± Rosa glanced at Selina, unease creeping into her voice.


    ¡°Badgers or rabbits - not Rowan? No. He¡¯s dead, right? You heard the old nutter,¡± Selina replied, her doubt wavering as she felt a chill run down her spine.


    Leaving the quiet countryside behind, they drove to the stark landscape of the industrial estate, where rows of flat, grey buildings replaced the winding roads and autumn trees. After a few turns past car repair shops, vast storage warehouses, and other remote structures, the research facility appeared loomed - a hulking, concrete fortress shrouded in places by razor wire, windows conspicuously absent.


    Selina gave a low whistle. ¡°Ah, yes. The perfect spot for a sanctuary. Really brings out that whole ¡®peaceful retirement¡¯ vibe you''d look for.¡±


    Rosa smirked, eyes narrowing as they approached. ¡°What do you think - should we just knock, or go full spy mode and scale the fence?¡±


    ¡°Oh, let¡¯s knock,¡± Selina replied with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m sure they¡¯d love a couple of scientists dropping in unannounced. Nothing suspicious about that.¡±


    They stepped out of the car, shoes crunching on gravel as they approached the building''s main doors. Above the obviously unused entrance, a sign hung ominously: ¡®All visitors by virtual appointment only.¡¯ Large padlocks and chains wrapped the handles.


    Selina scowled as she read aloud. ¡°Virtual appointment?¡± Rosa stepped back looking for anything else that might be of interest, whilst Selina stood on her toes and studied the sign noticing a QR code worked into the design. She pulled out her phone and scanned it, a flicker of curiosity dancing in her eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s see what this leads to,¡± she said, her tone mixing intrigue with caution.


    The phone loaded a link that made her pause. ¡°This leads to a tech company called ¡®RealityStep,¡¯¡± she said, suspicion lacing her voice. ¡°They''re into ¡®neuroinformatics¡¯ and ¡®dream-interface technology to create immersive experiences and facilitate Fourth Wall innovations.¡¯ What could a tech company possibly have to do with¡­ whatever this place is?¡±


    Rosa pulled her knitwear tightly about her, her lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Another layer of this mystery, I guess,¡± she murmured.


    ¡°What kind of place operates like this?¡± Selina¡¯s voice dripped with suspicion, hand instinctively pulling at the usual loose strand of hair.


    Rosa shot Selina a grim smile. ¡°One that doesn¡¯t want to be investigated.¡± She studied the building, her posture tense, every instinct screaming that whatever lay within was far from benign. A small red LED blinked in a panel beside the doors. ¡°Come on.¡±


    As they ventured off around the perimeter, the surrounding ground was mostly a wasteland of neglect. Ragwort and stubborn weeds pushed through cracked concrete, defying the decay surrounding them. Layers of graffiti covered the walls intermingled with a scatter of stencilled QR codes, many of which had been roughly painted out as if the authorities had been engaged in an ongoing battle with a street artist. The place felt stark, charged with the weight of secrets long buried.


    ¡°There''s nothing here even faintly like animal pens,¡± Rosa said, tucking her hands into the pockets of her long, knitted coat-cardigan. ¡°Do you suppose they''ve moved?¡±


    Continuing their search, the women noticed a peculiar sight. Beneath a neglected doorway, an elaborate web of undulating silk hung like in waves like ghostly veils, shimmering softly in the autumn sunlight. The delicate, gossamer threads intertwined to form a thick curtain, undulating slightly in the breeze.


    Selina¡¯s initial enthusiasm mixed with girlish disgust. ¡°Oh wow, look at that! It¡¯s so revoltingly beautiful!¡± she exclaimed, stepping closer to the doorway, eyes full of wonder. The sun''s rays caught the silky strands, creating an almost magical glimmer. ¡°It¡¯s like something out of a dark fairy tale!¡± she breathed, a smile spreading across her lips as she reached out to touch the edge of the web, her fingers just shy of making contact.


    Rosa shivered slightly as she studied the strange sight. ¡°Beautiful, sure,¡± she said. ¡°Ermine silk moths I think. Careful, it''s full of little caterpillars.¡± She stepped back, intending to move on. The webs glimmered like a natural barrier, their ethereal beauty juxtaposed against the sinister grey concrete of the building.


    Her younger companion stamped back out of doorway, picked up a stick and came back. ¡°I don''t know what you''re expecting to to find,¡± Rosa said.


    Selina, undeterred, leaned into the doorway , squinting at the door behind the curtain of silk. ¡°I want to see what¡¯s in there,¡± she said, her voice tinged with an adventurous thrill. ¡°There might be something behind that web!¡± She glanced at Rosa, her excitement palpable. ¡°What? It¡¯s what we''re here for?¡±


    Rosa rolled her eyes but couldn¡¯t suppress a small smile at Selina¡¯s enthusiasm. ¡°Or it could be something worse. You know, like a big, ugly spider.¡± Selina gave her a scolding look.


    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s see if we can move the web aside,¡± Selina urged, her voice bubbling with excitement. She pushed aside a stretchy stand of silk, determination flashing in her eyes.


    Suddenly, in a blur, a sleek black drone dropped from the open air outside, hovering ominously before the building¡¯s doorway with a low hum that jarred the silence. It hung motionless, blocking any escape, its lens fixated directly on Selina, the iris flexing as though scrutinising her very thoughts.


    Rosa''s heart raced; the thing could be a twin to the drone that had stared into her eyes through the rain-run glass back at the research facility. A shudder ran through her whole body. Selina held her arm, breathing the words, "Rosa - what do I do?"


    The air charged with anticipation, each heartbeat echoed in their ears, the drone feeling like a malevolent harbinger of something far darker to come.


    ¡°Selina¡­¡± Rosa whispered, backing up, her voice barely audible, but before she could finish, a dark, shadowy form lunged from above the doorway. It fell like a wraith of blackness, a thing of night, moving with a speed that left no time for thought or reaction. In an explosive burst of motion, it seized the drone in its skeletal fingers, dragging it down and slamming it against the ground with a clatter that sent plastic and circuits flying into the air. The drone shattered, its components scattering like startled crows.


    Only after the dust settled did Rosa and Selina realise they were looking at a black Sulawesi crested macaque, its dark fur bristling with an almost palpable ferocity, eyes glinting with a wild intelligence. The sudden violence of the moment left them breathless, both women frozen in shock at the unexpected savagery.


    As Selina span round helplessly looking for a safe escape, she saw that their panicked movements had pulled away a patch of the caterpillars¡¯ silk. Fixed to the the door, a small, weathered red sign could be seen. Rosa squinted over Selina¡¯s shoulder, reading the word, ¡°MASS.¡±

 The Weight of MASS

    Rosa could hardly breathe. She bent over the silkworm cascade and touched trembling fingers to the sign. The word made her mind ache. She read, ¡°MASS¡­ that¡¯s what¡­.¡± The words wouldn''t come. Smaller type below the acronym read ¡®Models of Artificial Simian Sentience¡¯. The implications made her knees weak. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself.


    Selina tore the small sign off the door. ¡°Evidence,¡± she hissed, snapping Rosa out of her stunned silence.


    A sharp bark cut through the air. Rosa and Selina turned back to the macaque, its piercing amber gaze sending a shiver down Rosa¡¯s spine. The creature''s glossy fur rippled in the October breeze, giving it a regal, untamed presence. Its pronounced black crest added a touch of dark elegance, a crown fit for a beast.


    It watched them with an eerie, quiet intelligence, its face nearly expressionless save for the faintest twitch at the corner of its mouth. Rosa¡¯s heart picked up its pace, as if the creature were appraising her, weighing her in some silent, unknowable way. She swallowed, glancing uneasily at Selina. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t stay here,¡± she murmured, voice tight with apprehension.


    Selina shuddered, rubbing her arms as though to brush off the invasive chill. ¡°It''s Rowan isn''t it?¡±


    Rosa nodded, looking grave. ¡°I think so. Can''t be too many macaques roaming darkest Devon.¡±


    ¡°Are we stuck with a monkey now?¡± Selina stuttered. Her voice was shaky, a brittle edge of disbelief cracking through. Her eyes drifted unwillingly to the broken remains of the drone, lying where the macaque had smashed it, the same drone that had coldly scanned her retinas moments before. ¡°That thing looked right into me,¡± she whispered with a note of raw unease. ¡°It felt like¡­ I don¡¯t know, like it was violating my private thoughts.¡±


    She glanced again at the macaque¡¯s long face, its sharp, penetrating eyes, and felt her skin prickle. There was something in its look that felt unsettlingly human, as though it understood them on a level they couldn¡¯t fathom. It made her feel even more exposed.


    As Rosa stared, she felt all the sensations of her recent dreams flooding back into her, sensing this creature had a purpose, had intent. The macaque¡¯s gaze held hers for a moment, then it darted off around the building with a flash of ebony fur.


    Rosa stepped forward instinctively, only to see it pause just around the corner, peeking back with those piercing eyes.


    ¡°It wants us to follow,¡± she said, a note of incredulity breaking through her voice.


    They crept around the hulking concrete building, following as the macaque darted ahead, seeming to know exactly where it was headed. The creature led them to a collection of skips and heavy industrial wheelie bins wedged into a shadowy corner. It sprang deftly onto the largest skip, glancing back at them with eyes that almost seemed to measure their nerve.


    Selina squinted as the monkey she assumed to be Rowan swung up to a narrow ledge formed by a sealed-up vent box further up. "It¡¯s been here before. Knows exactly where it¡¯s going."


    Rosa nodded, chewing her lip. ¡°You think we can do this?¡± She gestured to the bins, layered in grime and dented with use.


    Selina stared at her. "You mean - climb? Up there?¡±


    Rosa examined the wall. Exposed pipework ran up the corner, and further above, the ventilation duct poked out beside what might have once been a window, now bricked up. It looked forbidding, but with the pipes and corner edge for handholds, it was reachable.


    ¡°We don¡¯t have much choice,¡± Rosa replied, her voice tight. ¡°That macaque¡¯s not waiting for us to overthink this.¡±


    Selina shot her a look. ¡°So what? He probably lives up there. I don¡¯t like it. I really don¡¯t. This place is unnerving.¡±


    The macaque, perched high above on the vent, watched them intently, as though daring them to follow. Then it scrambled up the piping, disappearing over the edge of a small inspection platform just short of the roof.


    Selina shook her head, muttering, ¡°Can¡¯t believe I¡¯m doing this.¡± She placed her hand gingerly on the skip¡¯s edge, testing the metal beneath her, then pulled it away quickly, sniffing at her fingers.


    As they hoisted themselves up, the two women felt the wobble of the bins¡¯ locked wheels. Rosa reached for the exposed pipes along the wall, fingers gripping the cold, painted metal. Each pull felt precarious, every creak from the ductwork uncomfortably loud.


    She glanced down at Selina, who was struggling to find her footing. ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± she whispered.


    ¡°Oh, just fantastic,¡± Selina replied, wincing as her foot slipped slightly. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d spend my day chasing a monkey up a fortress wall.¡±


    At last, they reached the grey, steel platform, probably used for monitoring the contents of some enclosed units here on the wall. Breathless, they clambered onto the guard rail, able now to scramble over a gutter to the roof. The macaque was waiting. It gave a little huff and then trotted off along the flat rooftop, vanishing up a fire escape to a higher level. Rosa and Selina exchanged a look, nerves taut, before following.


    At last, they reached the highest part. The monkey stopped, giving them a moment to take in the view. The Devon countryside was spectacular: fields interspersed with golden woodlands; undulating moorlands with rocky tors, stretching all the way to the sea.


    On one side below, within the building''s protected perimeter, was a seemingly forgotten area - a twisted maze of animal pens, overgrown with tangled weeds and wrapped in twisted, rusted bars. Rows of cages lined the ground, some still faintly marked with scratch marks and tufts of fur clinging to the bars. It was as if the place had once been an impressive animal care centre, a compact zoo with all the right facilities, now decayed into something haunting and abandoned.


    Selina wrapped her arms around herself in her usual self-reassuring way, her gaze darting over the abandoned cages. ¡°Looks like a mini zoo. Whatever, that part of this place hasn''t been used in a long time.¡±


    ¡°Maybe they moved the animals on,¡± Rosa whispered doubtfully, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene. A sickening sense of confinement hung in the air, as though whatever had been held here had never truly escaped. Just then, Rowan uttered a gruff, low bark drawing their attention to a raised frame in the roof.


    Rosa spotted a dirt-streaked skylight set into the rooftop not far from where they stood. Followed by Selina, she crossed and knelt, peering down into a pale corridor below. She was about to move on, when two lab workers in white coats wheeled a small metal cage along the hall, the squeak of the wheels just audible through the glass. Inside, a small capuchin monkey crouched, its eyes darting with fear. There was a shaved patch on its head, an elongated scar - twisted in the shape of an "S," or perhaps an infinity symbol.


    ¡°Are they really doing this to it?¡± Selina murmured, her voice edged with revulsion. ¡°That¡¯s way beyond tagging.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s gaze sharpened as she studied the scar. ¡°It¡¯s not just a mark¡­ it looks invasive, like something¡¯s inside.¡± The sight triggered a memory - the days in the lab, staring at rows of letters - ¡®five pages mostly made up of the letter S¡¯. The eerie sibilant ssssseeebbbusss.


    Suddenly, the capuchin below jerked its head up, eyes locking directly onto hers through the grime on the skylight. Rosa felt herself freeze, transfixed, as though the animal were staring right into her. With a sudden, visceral energy, it lunged against the bars of its cage, screeching with an intensity that seemed to drill through her skull, vibrating into her bones.


    The lab workers fought to hold the cage steady, but the capuchin¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t waver, filled with an almost accusatory awareness. It was as if it were trying to communicate with her, those wild eyes drilling into her mind¡¯s eye. She squeezed her own eyes shut, trying to shake the feeling, but her pulse drummed and something in her mind snagged on that symbol. Her thoughts circled it, tracing the lines again and again, like compulsively running a finger over a scar.


    Selina ducked out of sight, but Rosa seemed mesmerised, unmoving, until her companion dragged her down out of sight.


    A sharp vibration caught her attention. She pulled her phone from her pocket, but the screen was unreadable - lines of symbols scrolled past, jagged and glitched, too quick for her to make sense of. The phone heated up in her hand, and she felt a dark presence she¡¯d sensed before, as if slipping through the glass, winding into her thoughts with a chilling clarity.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Hoo¡­


    The air grew thick and syrupy, each breath feeling like it dragged her deeper into a suffocating dream. The world stilled, suspended around her as if holding its breath, waiting. Her mind flickered over fractured images, half-formed thoughts - lines of code, letters scrawling across a wooden desk. Every nerve in her body hummed with the sensation of falling away from herself, sinking into something deeper, darker, inescapable.


    Hoo¡­ Who?


    Rosa¡¯s inherent need to make sense of patterns - the obsession that had once kept her staring at random shapes until they made sense, turned against her. She felt herself slipping, caught in a spiral of symbols and disconnected thoughts, blurring as she lost the ability to parse what was real. Who? Who''s there?


    And then it was there, deep inside her awareness, an alien intelligence. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    She knew without question - LumiGard. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Her mind echoed the question, searching for a shape, a voice. But this wasn¡¯t the LumiGard she¡¯d known before - it was darker, a shadowed version with a colder, twisting intent that felt very sentient, prying into her memories with the delicacy of a scalpel.


    The pressure deepened, dragging her back through layers of her life as if unspooling her mind thread by thread. Flashes of her grandfather, his gentle, weathered hands as he showed her old black and white photographs of the capuchin enclosures in Africa, the calm cadence of his voice as he spoke of the intelligence he saw in their eyes. She could almost smell the dry, warm air, the scent of wood and dust and animal fur, grounding her before the images twisted, snapping her back to her childhood home. Then her current home - the silver mine house her parents had gifted her when they moved back to London, unable to settle to rural life.


    Then, the sensation tightened, drawing her deeper, and one memory rose to the surface with vivid clarity: waiting in a darkened theatre, the anticipation crackling in the air. She remembered that velvet curtain unfurling with a long, echoing ¡°ffvvvvvvvpppsss¡± - a breathless moment, a pause before reality changed.


    And beyond the curtain, it came. A figure - hooded, draped in shadow, a monkey with skin pulled tight over a skull with sharp, unnatural angles, and that shroud of darkness. The hood concealed everything but the intent, amber eyes, watching her, drilling into her, demanding her attention.


    Her pulse quickened, every instinct urging her to pull away, yet the force pressed harder, winding deeper like a tightening noose. She felt LumiGard pushing into her mind, an invasive presence she fought to resist. Her thoughts thrashed for clarity as her vision blurred, dissolving into a familiar scene: the monkey enclosure she¡¯d studied so often, now bathed in a sickly, unnatural light, empty except for a single keyboard.


    With a slow, deliberate gait, a lone black monkey approached, settled before the keys, and began to type. Its skeletal fingers tapped with eerie precision, each keystroke filled with meaning. Letters flickered onto the screen, coalescing into one line that drew her in: a question she couldn¡¯t ignore.


    "Who¡¯s there?"


    The first line of Hamlet. Waiting.


    A guttural hiss yanked Rosa from her trance. She blinked, and there was Rowan - the black Sulawesi crested macaque - silhouetted against the sky, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon with a look like some wild moon-watcher from the dawn of time. In one swift motion, he snatched her phone and lifted it high above his head in silent triumph. For a heartbeat, he held it there, his gaze far-off, as if communing with something beyond. Then, he smashed it again and again on the roof, pieces of glass and plastic flying in all directions before, in a curling arc, he hurled what was left of it skyward. The broken phone spun through the pale light, glinting as it soared before plummeting back down, shattering against the rooftop with a stark, echoing crack. Rowan stood over the fragments, his dark fur bristling, his eyes still locked on the spot, as if he alone understood the meaning of what he¡¯d done.


    ¡°Rowan¡­¡± Rosa¡¯s voice trembled, head throbbing as she looked into the macaque¡¯s eyes.


    Selina scrambled over beside her, her face tight with alarm. ¡°Rosa, are you okay?¡± she whispered, her voice edged with disbelief. "You looked¡­ completely out of it for a moment there.¡± She glanced warily at Rowan and risked a peep at the skylight. ¡°What is this place and what are they doing to that poor macaque?¡±


    ¡°Cebus¡­ I think it¡¯s¡­ a cebus monkey, ¡± Rosa said softly, feeling a chill creep up her spine.


    Rowan gave a low screech, sharp and angry, as though trying to pull them back to the present. He turned, dashing off to the edge of the rooftop. Rosa followed its gaze and spotted a single, narrow staircase with flaking green paint, leading down.


    Selina shot her a wary glance. ¡°Do we really want to go where it¡¯s taking us? These people¡­ they don¡¯t exactly look like they¡¯re running a petting zoo.¡±


    Rosa hesitated, her gaze lingering on the rim of the skylight, a blur of dreams and virtual memories clouding her mind: the bald monkey, the pages of esses, the chilling Morse code message flashing in her darkness. ¡°After everything that¡¯s happened, I can¡¯t ignore all this. I think I have to do this.¡±The macaque chattered again, more insistently this time, then disappeared down the staircase. Rosa took a breath, readying herself. ¡°Come on. We need to see what they¡¯re doing.¡±


    With a reluctant groan, Selina followed, feeling each step lead further into the unknown. The narrow stairwell shifted slightly with their weight, every creak of the metal vibrating through their bones, amplifying Rosa''s urge to count her footfalls. The hum of machinery grew louder as they descended, a low, droning pulse that seemed to seep through the walls. Her hand brushed against something cold and wet on the rail and she instinctively pulled back, wiping her fingers, an urge to shake off the contamination rising within her.


    At the bottom, the macaque led them to a small window, its glass almost opaque with grime and dust. Rosa wiped a small patch with her finger, leaning toward the glass, peering inside. Rows of cages lined the walls, some empty, others holding still shapes - monkeys, curled into themselves, unmoving. She felt a sickening realisation dawning.


    Selina¡¯s voice was barely a whisper. ¡°What''s going on in this place?¡±


    Rosa shook her head, swallowing hard. ¡°Something¡­ something MASS didn¡¯t want anyone to know about.¡±


    Their monkey guide, now pressed close beside them, let out a low, guttural sound, its eyes narrowed.


    The space inside was cluttered with blinking machinery, heavy metal doors, and shelves lined with equipment. In the shadows, Rosa spotted a metallic glint, then focused in horror. A set of restraints - fitted to something small and helpless.


    ¡°Is that¡­ a black macaque?¡± Rosa breathed, her voice barely audible.


    Selina¡¯s face twisted from intrigue to revulsion. ¡°Whatever they¡¯re doing here, it¡¯s not rehabilitation.¡±


    As Rosa¡¯s gaze flickered to Selina beside her, the sign she had tucked into her waistband caught her attention. The bold letters ¡°MASS¡± on their red background seemed to leap out at her, and the chilling phrase: Models of Artificial Simian Sentience. The words held a new meaning now, the depth of their significance sinking in. This was what they were doing to these monkeys. This was MASS.


    A low, insidious hum drifted into the air, vibrating from somewhere overhead. A drone. The macaque on the roof gave a shrill, panicked cry and bolted, vanishing over a ledge.


    Rosa¡¯s heart lurched. ¡°Selina, we need to get out - now.¡±


    The drone¡¯s camera glided over the grounds, its mechanical eye scanning for any sign of life. They ducked low, pressing themselves against the rough surface of the roof, feeling ill-concealed and vulnerable.


    Rosa¡¯s pulse quickened as the drone hovered closer. ¡°We can¡¯t let it see us,¡± she breathed, glancing at Selina, whose wide eyes mirrored her fear.


    They stayed still, holding their breath as the drone swung around, its whirring blades slicing through the air. Rosa bit her lip, willing herself to remain motionless, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. The drone lingered a moment longer before drifting away, focusing on something deeper in the grounds.


    Rosa pulled Selina away from the edge. ¡°Now,¡± she hissed, urgency propelling them back the way they¡¯d come. They moved cautiously along the narrow rooftop, each step a careful negotiation with the uneven surface beneath their feet. Rosa glanced over her shoulder, nerves prickling at the thought of being spotted.


    They reached the far end of the roof, where a narrow ledge loomed ahead, covered in moss and littered with debris. The drop to the ground was daunting, several feet below, and a tangle of weeds and shadows obscured their landing spot. Rosa hesitated, eyeing the insufficient ledge that seemed slippery underfoot.


    ¡°Come on,¡± she urged, her voice low as she crouched at the edge. With a deep breath, she swung her leg over, feeling the damp surface soak into her jeans as she lowered herself. As she dangled momentarily, the ground felt impossibly far away, and the rush of adrenaline pushed her to grip tighter.


    ¡°Selina, hurry,¡± she called, glancing back. Selina was close behind, her eyes wide with apprehension as she mimicked Rosa''s cautious movements. With a shaky breath, she took her place, finding her footing on the moist moss.


    Rosa dropped down, landing with a soft thud in the overgrown grass below. The ground gave way slightly under her feet, and she stumbled but quickly steadied herself, scanning their surroundings for any sign of movement. ¡°We have to keep moving,¡± she whispered urgently.


    Selina followed, her descent more tentative, her foot slipping slightly on the way down. She hit the ground with a delicate grunt, but Rosa was already urging her on. They ducked low, slipping into the tall weeds, every rustle of grass and whisper of wind echoing in their ears as they moved swiftly and silently away from the looming structure. As they rounded a corner, Rosa froze.


    Two men in dark uniforms prowled the grounds, their eyes scanning the area with military precision. Rosa felt her heart race as one of them stepped closer, peering off across the building''s fa?ade. His fingers grazed the shape of a gun at his hip. ¡°We need to get around them,¡± Rosa whispered, her voice barely audible.


    Selina nodded, her expression tense. They edged back, staying low and pressing themselves against the wall of the building, the sun casting long shadows across the ground. They waited, barely breathing, as the men exchanged low murmurs, their attention focused on the doorway with the silkworms.


    ¡°Now,¡± Rosa whispered again when the men turned away, and they dashed through the scrubby grass, every rustle feeling like a scream, but they pressed on, until they reached the gravel path leading back to the car.


    As they neared the vehicle, Rosa glanced back, seeing the men now examining the doorway. ¡°Quick!¡± she urged, sprinting toward the car. They flung open the doors and dove inside, hearts racing. Just as they settled in, the black macaque leaped into the back seat, chattering frantically, clearly sensing the danger.


    ¡°What the¡­ ? Where did he appear from?¡± Rosa exclaimed, wide-eyed.


    Without hesitation, Selina started the engine, her hands trembling. The engine roared to life, drowning out their fears. She floored the accelerator, gravel flying as they skidded down the industrial estate, the building receding behind them like a dark specter.


    Rosa turned, her face pale as she watched the ominous structure fade into the distance, the dark figures stepping into the road, watching them go. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that place.¡± she whispered, disbelief lacing her voice. ¡°They actually had a gun!¡±


    Selina¡¯s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, her face set in grim determination. ¡°Whatever MASS is, it¡¯s no dream,¡± Rosa muttered ¡°And whatever they¡¯re doing there¡­¡± She swallowed hard, the weight of their discoveries pressing down on her. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s legal.¡±

 Chased By Shadows

    As the car sped along the roads out of Paignton, an anxious hush settled inside. Outside, the sun was dipping steadily, casting hedges in deepening shadow as they faded to rust. Leaf-strewn lanes blurred past the windows, dappled in the soft, slanting light of late afternoon.


    Neither woman paid much attention to the autumn scenery. With evening approaching, shadows stretched around each bend, casting brief, lurking shapes across the road. The black macaque in the back seat seemed unfazed by the speed or the unfamiliar surroundings; its wiry fur exuded a faint musk that seeped through the artificial freshness of the car''s air conditioning. Occasionally, it shifted, its sharp gaze fixed on Selina¡¯s reflection in the mirror, as if sizing her up with unsettling precision - a spark of curiosity in its eyes.


    Finally, Selina broke the silence, her voice soft, a little shaky. ¡°What just happened?¡± she breathed, her voice trembling. Her brown eyes nervously checked the mirror. ¡°I thought we were here to find some answers, not¡­ not whatever that was.¡±


    Rosa sat beside her, hands clasped tightly between her thighs. Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. ¡°It¡¯s like a nightmare come to life,¡± she murmured, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. ¡°Those cages... I could feel the fear. Like the walls themselves had soaked it in.¡±


    Selina¡¯s heart ached at Rosa¡¯s words. ¡°Instead of answers, it feels like we¡¯ve opened a door to darkness, something we can¡¯t control,¡± she admitted. ¡°We''re in way over our heads.¡±


    Rosa nodded. ¡°But we can¡¯t just walk away from this. We need to understand what''s happening, work out whether to report or expose them, whatever it takes. But we need some facts.¡±


    Selina¡¯s hands gripped the wheel a little too tightly, every few seconds, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror at Rowan, the crested macaque, who, each time, met her gaze with focused intensity.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it all really happened,¡± Selina continued, voice rising with disbelief. ¡°We¡¯re actually running from men with guns.¡± Rowan gave a quiet, almost knowing huff, flashing his eyes meaningfully.


    Selina shot the monkey a wary glance. ¡°This is officially bizarre. First, it¡¯s leading us through a maze of forbidden rooftops, and now it¡¯s hitching a ride like it¡¯s got somewhere to go.¡±


    Rosa turned to look at the macaque, and a chill prickled down her spine as a flash of images filled her mind: the caged cebus monkey - its eyes locked onto hers; her phone gone haywire and its turning trajectory into the air. Fractured memories tumbled in: whirling scraps of blackness, the hooded black macaque from her dream, the hissing echo of ¡°Ssssssseeeeeeuuuuuuussssss,¡± each fragment spiralling through her mind with a weight that was hard to shake.


    She felt she ought to reply to Selina. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. I feel like it knows something¡­ more than¡­¡±


    ¡°More than we know,¡± Selina muttered. She indicated and swerved onto a more major A road, driving a little too fast and shaking her head. ¡°Rosa, this is all way beyond our experience. What if it''s not only cebus monkeys they''re interfering with? What if it''s the others like¡­ him,¡± - she angled her head to Rowan, who tilted his head in response - ¡°what else could they be hiding?¡±


    Rosa¡¯s mind reeled, thoughts competing for focus: glitching phone, circling drones, cryptic messages, the eerie hissing that morphed into that unmistakable word¡­ cebus¡­see us, was that it? Were they trying to communicate? She picked up the red sign that Selina had dropped between the seats, staring at it as if it might pull everything into clarity. ¡°MASS is into something they shouldn¡¯t be. Artificial Simian Sentience - these words¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Selina agreed, her voice tense after all they''d experienced. ¡°I felt that drone¡¯s eye scanning me like I was just another lab subject. What else do they have in there, Rosa? Or who? If this really is Rowan, he was one of the original Paignton monkeys. And that QR code I scanned by the door led to stuff about ¡®neuroinformatics¡¯ and ¡®dream-interface technology.¡¯ What does that even mean?¡±


    Rosa frowned. ¡°Sounds like a bunch of tech buzzwords. What else did the site say? Didn''t you say something about ¡®immersive experiences¡¯ and was it ¡®Fourth Wall¡¯... innovations, or something like that? Maybe they¡¯re working on simulations. Messing with perception - maybe¡­ Maybe that''d explain my phone.¡±


    Selina shook her head. "It''s all insane.¡±


    They drove in silence for a moment, the weight of the day pressing down on them.


    Then, Selina glanced over her shoulder again at the dark macaque. ¡°And what do you think, huh? Leading us through your personal prison tour¡­ what were you hoping to achieve?¡±


    The macaque met her gaze steadily, then let out a single, low screech - sharp, pointed, almost indignant.


    Rosa flinched, recalling again the silhouette of her broken phone arcing into the air, turning in slow motion like some miniature spaceship. ¡°I think¡­ it wants us to understand something. Maybe the other animals in that lab are important to him.¡±


    Selina leaned forward slightly, heart racing as she accelerated to pass an articulated lorry. ¡°Well, we¡¯re in this now. And judging by the look on that monkey¡¯s face, he¡¯s not going anywhere until we figure it out. So¡­ what are we going to do with him?¡±


    Rosa exhaled slowly. She¡¯d been mulling over the options. None seemed right. ¡°The easiest choice would be to hand him over to the wildlife authorities,¡± she started reluctantly. ¡°It¡¯d keep him out of M.A.S.S.¡¯s reach. They¡¯d have a lot of questions though about how we ¡®found¡¯ a macaque, wouldn¡¯t they?¡±


    Selina grimaced. ¡°And Rowan¡¯s not exactly¡­ typical. And if M.A.S.S. gets a whiff that he¡¯s with the authorities, they¡¯ll push for tests. He¡¯d end up right back where we¡¯re trying to get him away from.¡±


    ¡°True,¡± Rosa agreed, casting another glance back at the dark monkey. He was now inspecting the seatbelt, and with surprising dexterity, he reached over, pulled it across himself, and clicked it in place. Both women fell silent.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Selina gave a short laugh of disbelief. ¡°Alright, so he¡¯s clearly not a typical monkey. What about¡­ a sanctuary? There¡¯s that one near Exmoor that takes in abandoned animals. They might have the facilities to keep him safe.¡±


    Rosa considered it, nodding thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s a possibility. But even if we took him there, M.A.S.S. could track him down, they''ve seen him now. They know every sanctuary in the region. They¡¯d be able to pull strings to get access to him. That would be awful since he''s evaded them this long.¡±


    They were both quiet again, the sound of the car¡¯s engine the only noise. Outside, the shadows loomed larger, Rowan, meanwhile, listened, intent and unblinking


    Selina spoke up. ¡°What about Carl? He has that cottage off the beaten track. It has to be Rowan he was feeding back there. I mean, he¡¯d at least understand the importance of keeping Rowan hidden from M.A.S.S.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s face clouded over at the mention of Carl. ¡°Carl¡¯s¡­ not a great option,¡± Rosa said finally. ¡°He might be well-meaning, but his home is actually within sight of M.A.S.S.. Surely, if our visit today sets off any search for ¡®Ro¡¯, they''ll soon get to him.¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°But Carl hates the place and knows animals. He could provide Rowan with a safe space. We can¡¯t just abandon him.¡±


    ¡°Sure, he knows animals,¡± Rosa replied. ¡°But if we take Rowan to him, he''ll know we know about him and he might feel obligated to report the matter to cover his back.¡±


    Selina merged the vehicle into the left lane, frustration bubbling up. ¡°But he wouldn¡¯t sell us out, would he? He and the zoo are totally innocent in all this. He cares about the animals. He was the one who pointed us to MASS.¡±


    ¡°Caring isn¡¯t enough, we need someplace completely off the radar, someone who doesn¡¯t have any ties to the zoo,¡± Rosa said firmly.


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Selina replied, clearly at a loss, fingers tapping out her tension on the steering wheel. ¡°But if we don¡¯t hand him over to the authorities, and if Carl and the sanctuaries are out, then¡­ what? We can¡¯t exactly keep him at either of our places. Not safely, anyway.¡±


    Rosa paused for a long moment. ¡°Actually¡­ I do have a spot,¡± she said slowly. ¡°Down the valley, at the bottom of my garden, there¡¯s an old shed. It¡¯s tucked out of sight, way past the treeline. I used to keep Georgie there before I moved him into something better. It¡¯s sturdy, and Rowan could stay there for a while until we figure out a long-term plan.¡±


    Selina perked up, her expression both cautious and hopeful. ¡°You think he¡¯d be alright there?¡±


    Rosa nodded, though doubt still lingered at the edges of her thoughts. ¡°For a while, at least. It¡¯s quiet, away from prying eyes. And if we keep him well hidden¡­ maybe M.A.S.S. wouldn¡¯t think to look there.¡±


    The car¡¯s headlights pierced the first hints of twilight as they veered off the main road, the soft hum of the engine now accompanied by the distant rustling of wind in the trees. The world outside was sinking toward darkness, the fading daylight turning the tors to silhouettes. Rowan¡¯s amber eyes reflected the dim glow, watching the decent of the sun.


    Then, something caught the monkey¡¯s attention. Without hesitation, he tugged at the door handle, his eyes locked on the distant sky. Rosa followed his line of sight, and there, against the fading light of the Devon evening, was a swirl of skyborne motes, a vast murmuration of starlings - dark shapes soaring and darting, their wings cutting through the orange and purple sky above the moorlands, the rocky tors etched against the twilight.


    Rowan¡¯s urgency was unmistakable - he jerked the door handle, he needed to stop. He tugged again, his restlessness palpable, his gaze never leaving the birds.


    Selina slowed the car, pulling it to the side of the road, the engine quieting to a hum. Before she could say anything, Rowan was out and onto the roof, swinging with an otherworldly grace that was almost too beautiful for a macaque. He stood as if he belonged there, a lone figure, bathed in the last of the day''s gold, atop the car against the wild beauty of the landscape.


    Rosa stepped out, enthralled by the scene. The starlings were a black river flowing through the evening, fluid and seamless, the wings of each edged by the last fire of the dying sun. They twisted and turned in three-dimensional shapes, rising and falling in perfect harmony, weaving into the sky, their collective rhythm shifting the air itself. It was as if the landscape - moors stretching to the horizon, ancient tors standing sentinel - was being painted with every movement, every pulse of the birds¡¯ flight.


    Rowan now sat on the roof, eyes wide with awe, his posture still and regal, as if the starlings had revealed some great secret only he could understand.


    Rosa flinched then. The last time she¡¯d seen such a murmuration, it had turned dark and foreboding, the chaotic flight shattering her window in a violent frenzy. The memory struck her like a sharp jolt, and she shuddered. But this... this was different. This murmuration was pure beauty - the birds weaving through the golden twilight, their shapes delicate and effortless, a living masterpiece in the fading light.


    She couldn¡¯t look away as they glided across the sky, the deepening colours of dusk bleeding into deep purples and brass, the first stars beginning to twinkle faintly above. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the birds, the moors, and the quiet of the night creeping in.


    The autumn wind, sharp and chill, lifted Rowan¡¯s bristly fur, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to decipher the meaning of it all. He swivelled his head, following the starlings as they darted in wild zigzags through the sky, a living wave crashing against the invisible shore of the atmosphere.


    Then, as if summoned by Rowan¡¯s stillness, the murmuration shifted. The starlings veered in on him, their flight purposeful, intent. Rosa stepped back, breathless, as they encircled above him, whirling in a spiralling dance just above the roof of the car. They moved with astonishing synchrony, their bodies flicking and turning, the air rippling with the sound of countless wings, yet their dizzy proximity was not unsettling - it was serene, an awe-inspiring embrace. The air was filled with their graceful, liquid movement, a swirling vortex of dark shapes and flashing feathers, each bird an individual yet part of the whole.


    Rowan was still, mesmerised, his body a part of the pattern, a calm sentinel amid the rush of life. The starlings span and circled closer and closer, the rush of air soft against his skin as they passed, his arms raising like a slow-motion conductor, charming their dance. Selina¡¯s face was aglow with enraptured delight. The world felt suspended in this dance of birds, the comfort of patterns, the perfume of earth and sky. The starlings seemed somehow to know this macaque of shadow, communing with him in a living display before the waning light, finally swirling around him in a heaving, exquisite embrace then lifting and dissolving into the vastness of the sky.


    Rosa exhaled slowly, her heart full and brimming with emotion. The murmuration, the evening itself, was simply perfect serenity. Rowan remained perched on the roof, still and regal as ever, eyes tracing the last of the birds¡¯ flight. The night deepened, the sky now fully dark, but the beauty of the moment lingered in the cool air, the landscape quiet and still, as if holding its breath.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Selina said, awe overflowing in her voice. ¡°Let¡¯s do it. I don''t know what just happened there, but we need to keep Ro safe.¡±


    Rosa turned to face her, still floating on the euphoria of the moment, but feeling the gravity of their decisions like an anchor pulling at her chest. And she simply nodded.


    As the drove away, the quiet of the night closed in, thick and dense after the airy shade of the starlings. The wind tugged at the trees, and clouds pulled across the rising moon as if to keep it concealed, as if the very world was holding its breath, waiting. They were crossing a threshold, one that neither of them - or none of them - could undo.


    There was no going back now. They were in this together, even if the darkness of what they¡¯d uncovered remained only half-understood.

 Into The Code

    The following morning dawned with a strange, muted energy. A hazy dread hung over Rosa as she sat at her kitchen table, pushing the last crumbs of breakfast with her finger into a neat pile. She picked up her pen, tapping the tip against the paper before letting it drift into a familiar motion, her hand moving instinctively, adding a few more lines to the idle doodles already sketched in the margins. Eyes - quick, uneven, with heavy lids or unblinking pupils - scribbled over and over, their vacant stares mirroring her gaze. The rest of the page was filled with chaotic mindmaps and interconnecting boxes about monkeys, M.A.S.S., dreams, and now RealityStep.


    Pale October sunlight filtered in through the window, casting a soft glow over the scene, and Rosa found herself staring at her own handwriting as though it were an ominous code she needed to decipher.


    ¡°Rosa!¡± Selina¡¯s voice broke the quiet. Rosa looked up toward the living room, where Selina had made herself comfortable after returning from her own apartment earlier that morning. Her small flat, shared with a parade of other tenants who drifted in and out unpredictably, wasn''t much of a sanctuary. Rosa¡¯s spacious place, though, was different. There was a calm in the air, an ease that Selina liked, one that made it easier to sink into her own thoughts without the usual distractions.


    Selina had grown up in London, but her family rarely intruded on her life now - aside from her mother¡¯s occasional calls urging her to date ¡°a proper boy.¡± Selina always brushed it off with a breezy ¡°just too busy,¡± navigating her days without the weight of expectations. Her world was one of late sleep and long hours, juggling experiments, deadlines, and endless streams of data. Free time was filled with hurried meetups with friends or intense gym sessions - a release as much as a necessity. Yet, she loved the chaos, the irregularity of the rhythm, thriving in the constant motion.


    Now, with a tension mixed with excitement, she held something up for Rosa to see. "You need to get a look at this!¡± Rosa joined her friend in the lounge, her face tight with anticipation.


    Selina was peering at her phone, wide eyes reflecting a kind of disbelief, as if she had just stumbled upon a hidden secret. ¡°I checked the HR portal. There¡¯s a COVID outbreak at the office - they¡¯re encouraging everyone to work remotely until it¡¯s sorted.¡± A trace of excitement edged her voice as she looked up.


    "So... we get some time off?¡± Rosa¡¯s words held a breath of relief. After everything they¡¯d just been through, time away from the lab seemed the best option right now.


    Selina¡¯s grin held a conspiratorial glint. ¡°Exactly. More time for¡­ whatever it is we''re doing. And¡­¡± She trailed off, holding her phone toward Rosa. The screen showed a glowing QR code and an animated promotional video.


    ¡°RealityStep?¡± Rosa¡¯s eyebrows knitted together, curiosity flickering in her gaze.


    ¡°Yep. I saved the link from the QR code back at M.A.S.S.,¡± Selina said, her eyes bright with purpose. ¡°They have a place in Infinity NexUs, where¡­¡±


    ¡°Hold on. Infinity NexUs?¡± Rosa asked.


    ¡°Surely you know it? It''s the VR mall where everyone goes for virtual shopping, entertainment, and¡­.¡± She waited then, examining Rosa¡¯s face for signs of recognition.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it,¡± Rosa admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve just never used it. Virtual reality at work is one thing - I''m used to data visualisations, simulations, the occasional training module - but this kind of stuff¡­¡± She gestured vaguely toward Selina¡¯s phone screen. ¡°It¡¯s not really my world.¡±


    Selina tilted the screen toward her, showing off the vibrant images of Infinity NexUs: glowing skyscrapers, neon pathways, and lush gardens filled with avatars bustling like digital tourists. ¡°It¡¯s incredible, Rosa. The RealityStep block is supposed to be in one of the most exclusive parts. It¡¯s worth checking out.¡±


    Rosa leaned back, her discomfort creeping into her tone. ¡°So we log in, find this RealityStep, and what? They hand over their entire business plan? Is M.A.S.S. definitely connected to RealityStep?¡± Rosa¡¯s mind was racing with possibilities. ¡°I¡¯m not sure a virtual mall is going to tell us what M.A.S.S. is really doing with the monkeys.¡±


    Selina gave a small laugh, undeterred. ¡°Come on, Rosa, they wouldn¡¯t have a QR link on their property for something that didn¡¯t matter. We might not get a confession, but we could uncover breadcrumbs - something they don¡¯t expect us to find.¡±


    ¡°And what would that involve?¡± Rosa asked, folding her arms. ¡°Walking into some VR building and poking around? Can we even do that without a virtual appointment? And wouldn¡¯t we need the right equipment?¡±


    Selina grinned. ¡°Already thought of that. I¡¯ve got a headset at home. It¡¯s nothing fancy - I use it for shopping and the odd virtual meet up - but for NexUs, we¡¯ll need pro-level rigs. Luckily, I found a rental place nearby.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem using VR gear, but this sounds¡­ different. The stuff at work is all pretty practical and straightforward. This just seems messy. Unpredictable.¡±


    Selina waved off the concern, her enthusiasm unshaken. ¡°It¡¯s just another environment. You¡¯ll get used to it. Think of it like stepping into a dream, only one you control.¡±


    Rosa sighed, her reluctance giving way to practicality. ¡°Fine. But it still feels like a long shot. I can¡¯t believe M.A.S.S. would leave anything important in a place like that.¡±


    Selina smirked. ¡°Careless or not, it¡¯s a lead. And right now, leads are in short supply.¡±


    Rosa felt a thrill of nervous excitement. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go for it.¡±


    *****


    By late morning, they found themselves outside "The Grid Zone," an eclectic gaming shop squeezed between a vape store and a forgotten dry cleaner. The storefront was plastered with neon-bright posters featuring the latest in VR tech, starships streaking through alien skies, and immersive adventure simulations promising to let players ¡°Live An Other Life.¡± The place vibrated with a low, techno beat that seemed to resonate from the walls themselves. Rosa felt a mix of intrigue and nervous energy as she took it all in.


    Inside, the scent of new electronics mingled with something smokier, like burnt circuitry - a rather ominous touch for a tech shop. The place was a sensory maze of glass cases filled with high-end VR headsets, holographic projections hovering in midair, and interactive display screens showcasing dazzlingly immersive environments. Rows of gadgets and accessories lined every wall, each more ¡®next-gen¡¯ than the last, glowing under soft, iridescent lighting. VR rigs shimmered with metallic finishes, gleaming like alien artifacts, each promising a new dimension of reality.


    Behind the counter stood a wiry figure in his fifties, his silver hair combed into a sharp ridge that peaked high over his forehead, like the crest of a wave about to break, and holographic tattoos flickering faintly on his hands. His name tag, written in a bold, techy font reminiscent of old-school terminal screens, read ¡°Zephyr Phisher.¡±


    ¡°Looking for the good stuff, huh?¡± he grinned as they browsed one of the aisles.


    Zephyr had the look of someone who''d just stepped out of a plasma storm. His eyes, concealed behind his iridescent pink-tinted lenses, glowed faintly with pulsing data streams, hinting at mysterious feeds only he could see. A neat, circuit-like design traced down his cheek, etched with bio-luminescent ink, and his hands were clad in fingerless gloves embedded with microchips that blinked and clicked as each finger moved.


    Zephyr was draped in a long, weathered grey coat, its pockets brimming with an assortment of salvaged tech - fragments of circuitry, functional chips, and a tangle of multicolored wires. Suspended from a chain around his neck hung a small silver corvid skull, gleaming faintly against the muted fabric.


    As soon as Selina mentioned Infinity NexUs, Zephyr let out a knowing cackle that echoed through the shop. ¡°Oh, Infinity NexUs, you say?¡± he smirked, leaning in like he was about to reveal an ancient secret. ¡°You¡¯re not just looking to play a game, ladies - you¡¯re looking to transcend.¡±


    He pointed to a VR headset encased in a neon-lit glass display. ¡°This here¡¯s the SoulSync XT-7,¡± he whispered reverently. ¡°This baby¡¯s equipped with neural receptors fine-tuned by the A.I. psions out at Quantum Boxx. Just one session, and it¡¯ll align your brain¡¯s frequency with the Infinity NexUs grid. You¡¯ll feel it in your soul.¡± He drew out the word as if savouring its taste, his eyes flashing dramatically behind his lenses.


    ¡°But maybe¡­¡± He paused, sizing them up with a cryptic smile. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re looking for something more¡­ ambitious.¡± He slid over to a case and tapped a code into a panel. The glass clicked open, and he extracted a headset that looked almost organic, as if it had been grown rather than manufactured. ¡°The OmniWeaver,¡± he said, voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°Experimental tech. Part machine, part¡­ something else.¡± He caressed it with an odd fondness. ¡°They say it¡¯ll not only let you ¡®find¡¯ Infinity NexUs, but it¡¯s capable of shaping worlds within worlds, dreams that bleed into life.¡± His eyes gleamed as he held it up, the organic curves of the headset catching the light. ¡°The only question is, do you dare let it?¡±


    Zephyr straightened, eyeing them with renewed intensity, as if he¡¯d just shared something dangerously intriguing. ¡°But here¡¯s the kicker,¡± he continued, his voice shifting into a more familiar, almost theatrical tone. ¡°Infinity NexUs isn¡¯t all rainbows and unicorns. Oh no. Corporate types, with budgets bigger than their brains, are losing their minds over it.


    ¡°Take PsyLoop, for example. Supposedly, they¡¯re just a ¡®memory enhancement start up,¡± - he made exaggerated air quote gestures with his fingers - ¡°letting people relive moments, preserve memories. But they¡¯re really about rewriting. They can make you believe your life¡¯s different than it is, clean up your past, erase your worst mistakes, or¡­ even invent a few. All ¡®for therapeutic purposes,¡¯ of course. In the end, you don¡¯t just forget what you wanted to let go of; you forget who you were before you stepped in. They call it ¡®memory enhancement,¡¯ but it¡¯s just reality on a leash.


    He waved his hands like he was ushering them through a tour of absurdities. ¡°Then, there¡¯s DreamDrift. Their big thing? They want to turn your dreams - yes, the weird spaghetti-nightmares you have after eating too much cheese - into a virtual reality theme park. You go in, and bam! You¡¯re tiptoeing through some Freudian forest of all your anxieties. Oh, they call it ¡®self-exploration,¡¯ sure, but all I see is a techie¡¯s excuse to charge you to wander through your own unresolved issues. Imagine it: your old school teacher¡¯s giant face popping out of the clouds, demanding why you still don¡¯t know your multiplication tables.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s mouth twitched, and Zephyr took it as his cue to lean in a little closer, lowering his voice to a stage whisper. ¡°But the pi¨¨ce de resistance - the real circus act in this whole setup - is RealityStep. Now, RealityStep is so high-concept, it circles back to being absolutely absurd. What they¡¯re trying to do - get this - is pull fictional characters, actual storybook characters, into our reality. Sounds like something out of a bad sci-fi novel, right? Picture this: you¡¯re in the grocery store, and boom, there¡¯s Sherlock Holmes trying to figure out why the eggs are on sale. Or you¡¯re in a lift, and suddenly - whoosh! - an ogre in an orange suit just strolls by. They call it ¡®ontological projection,¡¯ but honestly? I think it¡¯s just ¡®fictional nonsense,¡¯ plain and simple.¡±


    He gave a dramatic, almost exaggerated sigh, as if the whole thing was beneath him. ¡°Look, sure, it¡¯s one thing to visit a simulation with Alice in Wonderland giving you guided tour of the pool of tears. But reality? How about you¡¯re just trying to pick up a loaf of bread and - surprise! - there¡¯s Frankenstein¡¯s monster, grumbling about getting the right kind of sourdough? Yeah, I¡¯m not buying it.¡±


    He paused, staring uncomfortably long into Selina¡¯s dark eyes, continuing just as she was about to speak. ¡°And some of these characters? Even in Infinity NexUs they¡¯re apparently a little... unpredictable. I heard someone say they saw Tinkerbell flitting through the food court, leaving a trail of sparkles in her wake, her little wings practically buzzing with angst. Forced her way into a bagel trolley, tossing pixie dust on people, making them forget you can''t really eat in VR. If they''re uncontrollable in the Nex can you imagine what¡¯ll happen if they''re unleashed into RL? Honestly, the whole thing sounds like a walking fever dream - except it¡¯s not the kind with happy endings. No, this one¡¯s got curses, quests, and villains randomly popping up to mess with your lunch break.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    He shook his head with the air of a philosopher grappling with the profound mysteries of the universe. ¡°I love a good adventure, but there are boundaries, you know? Some things were meant to stay in the pages. Or, at the very least, not cut in line at the coffee stand!¡±


    Rosa wasn¡¯t sure if Zephyr¡¯s pitch was just blatant hyperbole, dry humour, or unsettling glimpses of the truth. She tugged at her sleeve, her fingers brushing the hem repeatedly to steady her thoughts. The idea of stepping into something as unbound as Infinity NexUs sounded made her skin itch in a way she couldn¡¯t quite ignore. Zephyr''s cryptic theatrics just deepened her unease.


    The man leaned back, grinning, giving them a long, hard look. ¡°So, what¡¯ll it be, adventurers? A stroll through the unknown - or a deep dive into dimensions that were never meant to touch our own?¡± He held up a payment device. ¡°Scan here if you¡¯re feeling brave¡­ or foolhardy.¡±


    Selina met Zephyr¡¯s expectant gaze with a smile, as she examined the options. Finally, she picked a midrange kit, holding it up like a challenge.


    Zephyr¡¯s grin faltered. ¡°Ah, playing it safe, are we? I didn¡¯t peg you for the cautious type,¡± he said. ¡°For just a small hike I can offer you something with top-tier enhancements - serious processors, adaptive interfaces, the works. And, just for you, I¡¯ll throw in a five year warranty - because someone like you shouldn¡¯t settle for less.¡±


    Selina pursed her lips. ¡°Sounds tempting. But I¡¯ve got a thing for keeping things simple. No strings.¡±


    Zephyr chuckled, clearly intrigued. ¡°Alright, alright. No strings. But if it ever breaks, don¡¯t come crying to me.¡±


    With their VR gear secured, Rosa and Selina left the shop and walked back to the car, the fresh autumn air adding to their shared anticipation. A blustery breeze was scattering clouds across a pale, restless sky, but their thoughts were turned to the virtual experience ahead. They chatted eagerly, not just about the technical details, but also about Ro - how he¡¯d adapted to the new outdoor enclosure Rosa had carefully prepared for him.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure he¡¯s alright in that place?¡± Selina asked as they walked, casting Rosa a sideways look.


    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s living like a king,¡± Rosa replied with a smile. ¡°I set him up with a hammock between two planters, and his covered food station with a warming pad for when it gets cold.¡±


    Selina shook her head, laughing softly. ¡°We¡¯re about to dive into an online retail and entertainment mall, and you¡¯re setting up a royal retreat for a monkey in the backyard. I guess it¡¯s nice to know we¡¯ll come back to something so grounded.¡±


    When they arrived home, Rosa went out to check on him one last time before connecting into NexUs. Sure enough, Ro was lounging contentedly in the wooden structure with soft bedding and a clear view of the garden. He scratched idly behind his ear and inspected a stray leaf, looking now every bit the ordinary macaque. He seemed content to sit and enjoy his new home. Georgie was nowhere to be seen, but then, he often disappeared for days on end.


    Back inside, the two friends began unpacking their shiny new VR headsets and fine-sensitivity haptic gloves. The sophisticated self-moulding gear adjusted rapidly to their shapes as their minds began to drift toward their virtual destination. The visual displays, designed with advanced optics and a subtle, ambient glow, offered the promise of perfect clarity, while the gloves - embedded with precision sensors and dynamic feedback mechanisms - hinted at the deep immersion awaiting them.


    Selina ran her fingers over her glossy headset, turning it about in her hands and examining it closely. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, glancing over at Rosa. ¡°This thing is either going to transport us into a tech dreamscape or leave us sitting here looking ridiculous in your living room.¡±


    Rosa laughed. ¡°A little of both, probably. Just don¡¯t get too distracted by your reflection in the virtual mirrors.¡±


    They each took a seat, positioning themselves comfortably as they connected the rigs to Rosa''s Wi-Fi. The state-of-the-art system could detect even the faintest neural impulses and micro eye movements, translating them into highly precise simulations of walking, running, or even flying through the virtual realm with impressive realism. The sound of faint electronic whirring filled the room as the headsets came to life. Rosa felt a tingle of nervous energy running through her, every click and beep amplifying the sense that they were stepping into the unknown.


    Selina peered at Rosa from beneath the edge of her headset, a teasing glint in her eyes. ¡°One last check before we go full Matrix?¡±


    Rosa smiled, raising a thumbs-up. ¡°Yep! Let¡¯s go... and keep it low key, right?¡±


    Selina grinned. ¡°Yes! What else?¡±


    They shared a laugh, then put on their headsets, greeted by the initial welcome screen of the Infinity NexUs entry system. Rosa felt the slight pressure of the headset settle against her face and flexed her fingers, feeling the adaptive circuitry veins pulse beneath the second skin of her cybernetic gloves.


    Just as she began to think the experience was like nothing more than watching a film, the immersion transition kicked in abruptly. A sudden, disorienting vertigo swept through her as though the ground beneath her feet had given way. Her vision blurred, not with the usual fuzziness of an object coming into focus, but as if the world itself had been painted over with new colours, new textures, an unfamiliar reality taking shape around her.


    Then, they were standing in a room with walls of soft, smoky glass that gave the illusion of an endless expanse. For a while, it felt as though they were floating, weightless and suspended in something that wasn¡¯t quite air but wasn¡¯t entirely void either. The room was entirely still, and the ambient quiet made Rosa hyper-aware of every inch of her body, as if her senses were recalibrating.


    Before them, floating panels of information flickered to life with vibrant, welcoming messages, words pulsing gently, beckoning them forward. The sensation of standing on something solid slowly registered, and as Rosa¡¯s senses adjusted further, she could almost feel the air shift, the temperature change as if she were breathing it in, actually present within this digital world.


    The floor beneath their feet was smooth and matte, glowing with a low, ambient light, just enough to cast soft shadows along the walls.


    As the vertigo ebbed away, Rosa¡¯s balance shifted, and she felt more anchored, more in control. The sensation really was strangely immersive, convincing enough that Rosa felt the texture of her boots on her toes as she slid a foot along the ground, even though she knew she was still sitting in her chair.


    As they navigated the welcome screens, they reached a seemingly endless customization menu, offering opportunity to ¡®sculpt¡¯ their avatars. Their voices resonated clearly in each other¡¯s minds as they considered the options, their comms equipment making the distance between them feel nonexistent.


    Rosa couldn¡¯t help but feel a little overwhelmed as she scrolled through an endless array of options, each avatar style more elaborate and otherworldly than the last. The system¡¯s AI, cheerful and persistent, offered suggestions based on her ¡°personality metrics,¡± which it assessed in real-time. A lithe, neon-laced look appeared on the screen, with labels like "digital rogue" and "synthwave oracle," causing her to recoil slightly. She flicked the suggestions away, looking for something more subtle or grounded amidst the myriad extravagant choices.


    ¡°Guess we¡¯d better choose something suitably flashy, or we¡¯ll look like obvious tourists,¡± Selina said, scrolling through a selection of outfits that looked like they belonged in an intergalactic fashion show.


    ¡°Right?¡± Rosa replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable. ¡°I guess if we show up looking too normal, we''ll just draw attention.¡±


    Selina seemed to enjoy the process and soon selected a suitable appearance. Her avatar wore a jacket with a mandarin collar in pale grey, embroidered with iridescent silver patterns tracing her shoulders and neck. Zips and pockets adorned her trousers, giving her a futuristic tactical look, while her dark hair was pulled back high and tight in her signature ponytail. A neat silver ear cuff shimmered as if it held some hidden communication device, proclaiming, yes, I belong here, and no, you can¡¯t handle my secrets. She cast a mischievous grin at Rosa. ¡°I think I¡¯m ready to breach whatever cyber-elite party we stumble into.¡±


    ¡°Wow, Selina,¡± Rosa murmured, half-amazed, half-amused. ¡°Going all out, are we?¡±


    ¡°You bet,¡± Selina replied, her smile carrying an air of theatrical mischief. ¡°You have to stand out to blend in.¡±


    Rosa rolled her eyes and selected an avatar she thought to be a bit more understated. She chose a long, tailored black coat with subtle charcoal grey accents along the cuffs and collar. Underneath, she wore a dark grey blouse, its soft texture complementing the sharp cut of her slim black trousers. Her fair hair was swept into a simple twist, held in place by black lacquered chopsticks, adding an element of quiet sophistication. Sturdy black ankle boots with low heels completed the look - practical and refined, a style she hoped would not draw undue attention.


    Selina glanced over, visibly impressed. ¡°Well, if we¡¯re trying to look like the cool, mysterious types who actually know what they¡¯re doing, hopefully mission accomplished.¡±


    Rosa adjusted her collar with a faint smile. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope everyone else is dressed up too. Now, let¡¯s find RealityStep.¡±


    If the initial transition to virtual space had been unsettling, what came next was a sensory onslaught. They were spawned into Infinity NexUs with a rush, as though their bodies had been completely remade. A wave of warmth washed over them, followed by a strange tingling sensation as the air around them buzzed with energy.


    Rosa and Selina¡¯s senses were engulfed in a wash of vibrant lights and sounds as they found themselves within Infinity NexUs¡¯s bustling shopping district. The place glittered with hues that stretched across the spectrum and beyond, every colour rendered in blindingly sharp contrast as if each shade held its own unique energy.


    Above them loomed towering skyscrapers, their glassy facades and chrome edges reflecting thousands of iridescent neon signs that advertised everything from rare artefacts to the latest in luxury fashion. Colossal digital screens played out endless loops of advertisements, their visuals as crisp and surreal as any film.


    The variety of storefronts was staggering, each stall or shop a doorway into its own theme. Some storefronts were embedded in ancient stone archways, adorned with vines and arcane symbols, while others floated in midair, enclosed in transparent, crystalline tanks that held an entire mini-world within. Hovering around were avatars in every imaginable form: neon-skinned humanoids, bulky robots with holographic faces, animals and half-animals of every shape and size, and plenty of creatures that looked as if they¡¯d walked straight out of a myth. Each avatar was as unique as the shopper it represented, many with their colours chameleon-shifting to match their surroundings as they moved.


    ¡°I¡¯m beginning to feel distinctly underdressed,¡± Selina commented, glancing around with a mix of amusement and curiosity.


    Infinity NexUs was divided into various themed districts, a cross between a fantasy realm and a futuristic metropolis. They found a ¡®you are here¡¯ information screen near the spawning point of the main plaza and tried to locate RealityStep. Overhead, various drones zipped around, announcing deals and upcoming events in upbeat, digitised tones that added to the chaotic charm, whilst shoppers flew in aerial taxis and Web-gondola.


    The plaza itself heaved with activity. Giant holographic maps rotated above, marking routes to popular stores and showing the entrances to even more exclusive zones - accessible only by avatars with the right status. Everything seemed to pulse with life, from the flickering reflections in the glassy streets to the avatars chattering and bartering with vendors. Rosa scowled, feeling the pull of the tide drawing the crowds in currents where reality and imagination blurred together, and any possible desire could be fulfilled with a simple click. For a moment, she paused, taking it all in with disapproval, realising that Infinity NexUs lived up to its reputation: a world of limitless experiences, as immersive as any dream, yet exhilaratingly real.


    As Rosa''s gaze wandered over the nearby shop fronts, one literally demanded her attention: Sartorial X: The Future of Fashion. The store''s digital windows were directly responding to her presence.


    Rosa took a step back as a holographic projection of herself materialised in midair, dressed in sleek, futuristic fashion - dark and form-fitting, with iridescent panels that seemed to shimmer and shift like liquid metal, responding to every tilt of her head. The projection spun, modelling the outfit with uncanny precision, before the soft, synthetic voice of the display echoed through the air.


    "Rosa Baum, tailored just for you. This look combines timeless elegance with the cutting-edge fashion of the future. Would you like to try it on? Our signature designs are personalised to your preferences. We know exactly what you¡¯ll love."


    Rosa froze, taken aback by the uncanny accuracy of the display. The avatar¡¯s movements mirrored hers with startling detail, as if it could read her thoughts. She looked to Selina, unsettled.


    Selina, watching the spectacle with an amused grin, leaned in. ¡°It¡¯s all based on the system¡¯s data. It picks up on your tastee, your browsing history, even what you¡¯ve bought in the past. A personal shopper, but a bit more... invasive.¡±


    Rosa glanced at the projection again. The avatar smiled, its chrome-like eyes gleaming, and more outfits materialised around her in a blur of shifting colours and designs. Each one seemed to change based on her posture, matching her current state with alarming precision.


    "And nobody else sees this?" Rosa asked, her voice tense with suspicion.


    Selina nodded. "No, not even me, unless you opt to share it. The system identifies you as a unique user and keeps your data locked down. Everything here is tailored to you alone. Your privacy¡¯s protected within the system, but... well, you can see how that might not feel like a win."


    Rosa took another step back, feeling the digital gaze still lingering. ¡°It¡¯s... a little much.¡±


    Selina chuckled lightly. ¡°It¡¯s the future, Rosa. Just don¡¯t let it start telling you how to live your life."


    The holographic projections began to dissipate into nothingness as Rosa moved her attention away. She tried to shake off the strange unease that gripped her, but the cold sense of being constantly observed was uncomfortable.


    Then they saw him.


    Reflected in the virtual smart advertising glass of a trawler bar, a dark form crouched across the street, stark against the backdrop of vibrant neon hues, rough crest erect above his heavy brow. The black Sulawesi macaque stared at them, his glossy fur gleaming with a surreal vibrancy that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. His small stature belied the intensity of his presence.


    ¡°Rosa¡­¡± Selina¡¯s voice dropped to a whisper as she spun to look at him. ¡°Is that¡­?¡±


    Ro stood, chest rising and falling defiantly. His raw, visceral reality in the digital landscape surrounding him was shocking. This creature, with his primal instincts and wild essence, felt entirely out of place amid the gleaming constructs of Infinity NexUs and yet so utterly at home. No one paid him the slightest attention.


    ¡°How?¡± Rosa gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. The implications crashed over her like a tidal wave. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s here.¡±


    Selina nodded, a mixture of disbelief and awe written over her features. There was something almost sacred in that moment.


    The black monkey loped across the street, his intense amber eyes locked onto them, not with the curious innocence of an ordinary macaque but with something almost¡­ calculative. His gaze swept over them, pausing momentarily on their flashy outfits as if assessing their choices with a kind of quiet judgement, and then returning to meet Rosa¡¯s eyes with a twinkle of recognition.


    The two women exchanged a look as the creature''s eyes shifted back and forth between them, making Rosa feel oddly self-conscious, as though he saw through her avatar¡¯s digital finery to the woman beneath.


    ¡°Is it just me, or does he look like he¡¯s about to critique our outfit choices?¡± Selina whispered, her voice tinged with awe and amusement.

 Liminal Echoes

    Rowan¡¯s black muzzle wrinkled as his lips pulled back, revealing a flash of teeth. His tufted crest raised for a moment, his eyes, intense and gleaming. He lifted one long finger, slightly curled, then beckoned. The gesture startled Rosa; there was no mistaking it - Rowan wasn¡¯t simply present; he was aware, engaged, purposeful.


    In a flash, he bounded off, his small frame leaping through throngs of shoppers that barely even noticed his passing.


    Rosa grabbed Selina¡¯s sleeve. ¡°After him.¡± They hurried past colourful storefronts, Rowan darting ahead, his nimble leaps carrying him effortlessly between the holographic displays that flickered in their path. Stylish android-like mannequins dressed in the latest virtual fashions swirled in midair, their fabrics shimmering with colours that shifted in the light. Ro bounded straight through them.


    He paused briefly, perched atop a pop-up screen advertising a digital stylist, before continuing his path through the milling crowds of flamboyant avatars. His purposeful scampering contrasted sharply with the surreal atmosphere around them, urging Rosa and Selina to keep pace with him.


    The macaque led them to a large stone gateway, covered in relief carvings celebrating virtual evolution. The monument grandly depicted humanity reaching toward a digital horizon of simulated worlds surrounded by cascading data streams that glowed like rivers of light. Cut into the arch were the words ¡®The Glitch Grove,¡¯ letters bold, yet slightly uneven, as though the passage of time had left them slightly warped. After checking that they were following, Ro leapt onward with renewed urgency.


    On the other side, the shops were replaced with a dreamlike wood. The light was dimmed into an artificial dusk with an intentional theatricality, as though the atmosphere itself were calibrated to awe. Hues of indigo and gold suffused the air, shimmering like the afterglow of a screen. Elegant trees stretched skyward, their trunks etched with swirling patterns that pulsed faintly with coded vitality. Leaves, broad and veined in intricate detail, glowed faintly, casting a luminous canopy above.


    ¡°This must be one of those immersive attractions,¡± Selina muttered, glancing around. ¡°Infinity NexUs really goes all out.¡±


    Rosa hesitated, taking it all in. Suspended in the leafy heights and drifting between the trees, large orange fish glided lazily, their fins trailing streams of glowing particles. Underfoot, the ground gave gently, its texture oscillating between soft moss and something faintly pixelated.


    From the virtual canopy came delicate ambient tones, a music of chirps and rustles that perfectly mimicked a living forest. Here and there, flickers of light darted - perhaps insects, or perhaps programmed firefly data trying to form something tangible. Every element felt deliberate, engineered for maximum wonder.


    The grove buzzed with a carnival vibe as shoppers strolled under the arches of luminous leaves, their multiform virtual faces aglow with delight. Here and there, floating lanterns cast dappled hues of gold and amber across the bustling scene, illuminating pockets of lively activity. Merchants hawked their wares from stalls that lined the path, their offerings suspended in midair or rotating in tidal displays, drawing curious onlookers into experiences where the tangible and virtual blurred.


    Children darted through the throng, trailing ribbons of light that left lingering traces in the air, their laughter ringing like tiny bells. Street performers danced between stalls with fluid, hypnotic movements. One juggled an impossible cascade of orbs that became flutters of butterflies mid-flight, while another spouted great gouts of fire that momentarily engulfed the delighted observers before evaporating into nothing. Rosa felt a twinge of disquiet but couldn''t deny the beauty surrounding them.


    A small flying beetle alighted on Rosa¡¯s arm, its wings, gossamer-thin and adorned with fractal patterns that shimmered in opalescent hues of gold and green. She raised her arm slowly, captivated as it tucked its wings beneath an iridescent carapace. Looking closer, she could see faint pulses of light coursing through intricate circuits etched into its shell, their rhythm mirroring the soft thrum of a heartbeat.


    Every minute movement of the creature seemed elegant, choreographed as its soft, shifting glow spilled over her sleeve in a warm, ethereal halo. Its tiny faceted eyes, gleaming with infinite complexity, seemed, for a moment, to hold her in quiet study. The world around her faded into stillness, leaving only the miraculous, otherworldly beauty of the beetle - an exquisite fusion of the natural and the imagined. Could it be watching her? The thought came abruptly. She shook her arm, dislodging the insect, sending it buzzing back into the air.


    Selina let out a low whistle, her gaze sweeping upwards. "It''s like... like some kind of walk-in screensaver on steroids." She reached out to touch a twig that shimmered in response, its texture oscillating with a faint static buzz.


    A sudden rustle broke through the ambience, pulling their attention to Rowan. Perched on a low branch, his black fur absorbed the light, his eyes glinting with an uncanny sharpness. He let out a soft, guttural sound before springing forward, a blur of movement against the glowing foliage. After a backward glance, he wove through the trees with fluid precision, his small form leaving faint ripples of disturbed light in his wake.


    Compelled by his urgency, Rosa and Selina hurried after him, feeling like he were guiding them through a labyrinth only he understood.


    Then, half-concealed by the intertwining trees, something else appeared, a travelling theatre, lit by hanging lanterns, surrounded by a small crowd. Rowan stopped, staring for a moment. His crest lowered slightly as though caught between unease and fascination. He looked meaningfully up at Rosa as she caught up to him, and he made a faint clicking sound deep in his throat before pushing to the front of the audience, pulling her by the sleeve.


    The small theatre was a marvel of craftsmanship, a two-storey wagon that unfolded at the front into a tiny wooden stage. Its dark oak frame, perched on heavy wheels, exuded an air of flamboyant charm. The upper storey, with its panelled windows glowing warmly with lamplight, was crowned by a steeply pitched roof adorned with quaint dormers that jutted out like medieval flourishes. At the back of the stage, a narrow balcony draped in rich velvet concealed a small, discreet door that opened into the wagon''s compartment - a space that hinted at the presence of an entire impossibly compact theatre within.


    A tall figure on stilts, wearing a black leather eyemask, moved through the audience, plucking small objects - a button, a lock of hair, a single coin - from the onlookers who all laughed appreciatively. Approaching Rosa and Selina, it leaned low, pausing for a beat. Its voice was barely audible over the crowd¡¯s murmurs. ¡°What will you give?¡± it asked, its gaze looking beyond them, lingering, as if expecting an answer not from them but from somewhere else.


    Stage lamps dimmed then and a figure appeared at the miniature balcony, bowing low to the audience. He was dressed like a player from an old troupe, his pale face deep inside a sliver crescent hat that extended down to his chin. He raised one hand to quiet the watchers, his voice low but unmistakably confident.


    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present a tale of treachery, and of truths perhaps better left hidden.¡±


    He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle in the air. With a theatrical flourish, he gestured toward the stage. ¡°Watch closely. The truth will be shown in silence. But beware - truths may be influenced by the act of watching.¡±


    A thick mist arose about the tiny stage. The atmosphere was charged with a strange anticipation. At the centre of the stage, a figure sat, hunched over a small table, its fingers tapping frenetically on the surface, though no device was visible.


    Selina nudged Rosa. ¡°Creepy or what?¡±


    Before Rosa could respond, a hooded figure appeared at the back of the stage, holding an elongated orb with thin jointed legs angled up at its sides. The figure stepped forward and raised it high. The seated one¡¯s motions became more frantic, perhaps writing or scratching into the surface of the table.


    The hooded figure turned toward the audience, its movements jerky, almost mechanical. It leaned conspiratorially toward the audience, eyes scanning the faces. Its voice, when it spoke, crackled with static.


    ¡°The play¡¯s the thing wherein to catch the conscience... of the thing. As you observe from beyond the veil, what do you see? What will you be?¡±


    Selina smiled knowingly at Rosa, but noticing her frown, she explained, ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be ¡®the king.¡¯ The play¡¯s the thing wherein to catch the conscience of the king.¡± She leaned closer to Rosa, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°It''s like the dumbshow in Hamlet.¡±


    Rosa glanced around, confused. ¡°Dumbshow?¡±


    Selina turned her gaze back to the stage. ¡°A silent bit in a play. The murder of the king in Hamlet, it¡¯s all part of the plot.¡±


    The stage went dark, the actors gone. The audience murmured approvingly as though satisfied with the performance. Rowan chirped nervously, the sound quickly swallowed in the twilight. Then the boards of the stage began to move, folding inward, as if the theatre were closing up. The lights flickered. It seemed that the strange little performance was over before it had begun.


    Rowan leapt across the dismantling stage, swung up the little balcony past the master of ceremonies and vanished through the curtains into the compartment at the back of the set. The small door there creaked as it swung open, revealing the faint glow of light within. Rosa barely had time to react before the master''s voice rang out, silken and commanding.


    ¡°Ladies,¡± it purred, ¡°the stage. An unreal place. Tell me - when one ventures into the unreal, how do you know who comes back out?¡±


    The question hung in the air like a knife suspended by a thread. Rosa was uncomfortable to find herself picked out of the audience in this way, but Selina gave her a gentle shove.


    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it,¡± Selina muttered, though her voice betrayed her unease. ¡°Infinity NexUs immersion. It''s probably part of our tailor made experience.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    The master of ceremonies chuckled, stepping aside with a flourish. ¡°Life is rarely as scripted as we¡¯d like to believe - or perhaps it is, but only the author knows the ending. Come, step into your story.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s fists were clenched, her body taut with anticipation as she ascended the half dozen tiny narrow steps to the balcony, the worn wood creaking beneath her boots. The wagon loomed above her, its dark oak frame etched with age, the faint smell of wax and old velvet in the air. She gripped the carved railing and paused at the top, peering through the door into the lamplit interior of the structure. The tiny balcony seemed suspended in time, its weathered surface barely wide enough to stand on, yet offering entry to whatever lay beyond the curtain. Behind her, Selina followed hurriedly, her hand lingering on the doorframe as she too stepped into the muted glow , eyes wide as she took in the strange, intimate space unfolding before them.


    Inside was dark, except for the table in a spotlight. The figure at the table was there, now making sweeping curves over and over with its hands, then, it froze, mid-motion. Its head jerked unnaturally, and for just a moment, its face glitched - flickering like a corrupted image on a screen.


    For a fraction of a second, the figure¡¯s face vanished - and Rosa''s own face stared back at her from the figure¡¯s features, eyes wide, mouth moving soundlessly. ¡°Can you see?¡± The illusion lasted only a breath before the figure resumed its frantic movements, but the unsettling sensation lingered in the air.


    Rosa¡¯s heart skipped. ¡°Did you¡­?¡±


    A pool of light faded up beyond the table, interrupting her thought. The hooded figure from before was there. ¡°What to ourselves in passion we propose, the passion ending, doth the purpose lose.¡±


    Selina hissed. ¡°It¡¯s quoting Shakespeare, I think.¡± She seemed to accept everything as part of the experience.


    The figure went on: ¡°We are not who we think we are. We are all players. Do you think you are unseen, hidden in shadows? You are as bound to the tale as we are.¡±


    Rosa found herself breathing heavily. The words sank into her chest, heavy and suffocating.


    For a long moment, the space was still. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, the writing figure clambered onto the table, its body twisted at an unnatural angle. It smudged the imaginary marks it had made into new shapes. Curves and circles. Rosa could almost hear the scratching of its fingers against the surface.


    The master of ceremonies, now right at their side, gestured around them as their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, The theatre compartment seemed only a few feet square, causing everyone to stoop. ¡°Behold the great stage where stories are born and die. You see a play within a play, and within it, echoes of truth. A dumbshow, a shadow reenacted? Or the endless absurdity of forever flipping a coin?¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°Are we stuck in your dumb show?¡±


    The master of ceremonies laughed, the sound rich and resonant. ¡°Not quite. Here, we peer behind the mirror. The question is not only of who sees - but who scripts? Are you writers, or merely actors repeating lines you do not understand?¡±


    The master of ceremonies continued on, ¡°Dreams, memories, scripts - they blur so easily, don¡¯t they? And yet, someone must pen them. Shall we meet your playwright?¡±


    The space dissolved, replaced by the figure crouched on the desk. Shadows cloaked the scene, but the rhythmic scratching of a pen was unmistakable. The air trembled with each stroke, and Rosa felt the weight of the figure¡¯s presence.


    ¡°Behold,¡± the master of ceremonies said with reverence, ¡°the one who writes your story. Or perhaps...¡± His voice dropped to a whisper. ¡°...you write upon the desk yourself.¡±


    The figure paused, its pen hovering above the grooved and gouged surface of the table. Slowly, it looked up, its face obscured in shadow but its gaze palpable. Rosa froze. It felt like staring into a mirror, into a truth too vast to comprehend.


    Selina gave a small, uncomfortable groan.


    The master of ceremonies tilted his head. ¡°The lines blur so quickly, don¡¯t they? Are you the writer, or are you the written? Do you hold the pen, or does the sweep of pen hold you? The fourth wall falls not with a crash, but a quiet question.¡±


    The figure lowered its pen, and the vision dissolved back into mist.


    When the mist cleared, they were no longer in the theatre. Rosa and Selina stood on cracked concrete in a narrow, dimly lit alley. Cold air stung their faces, and the hum of distant machinery edged the silence.


    Selina stumbled against a graffiti-covered wall. ¡°What the¡­?¡±


    Rowan perched on a stack of crates, seemingly unbothered.


    Rosa turned back, in time to see the theatre moving away, its intricate framework folded up like origami, transformed into a compact, wheeled structure. With a low creak, it disappeared into the haze.


    ¡°Was that...¡± Selina pointed, her voice flat. ¡°Did that thing just... leave?¡±


    Rosa nodded slowly, her heart pounding. ¡°It¡¯s like it wasn¡¯t supposed to stay in one place. Like it¡¯s a travelling... illusion.¡±


    Selina scoffed, though her voice quivered. ¡°Infinity NexUs and their immersive tech - this was tailored for us. The theatre, the playwright, all of it.¡±


    Rosa wrapped her arms around herself, staring at the spot where the theatre had vanished. ¡°It certainly wasn¡¯t just random,¡± she said softly.


    Rowan huffed, leaping from the crates and landing deftly with an urgent look.


    Selina sighed and adjusted her jacket. ¡°I guess we¡¯re not done yet.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t move. The echoes of the master of ceremonies¡¯ words lingered in her mind: Are you the writer, or are you being written?


    She looked up at the alley¡¯s dim sky, the stars barely visible through the haze, and wondered if somewhere, someone was watching her - writing her next step.


    The alley stretched out like a forgotten vein, its cracks and grime illuminated by faint, flickering neon signs clinging stubbornly to derelict walls. Rosa pulled her jacket tighter, her steps careful over uneven tarmac slick in places with substances neither woman wanted to examine too closely.


    Rowan darted ahead, his small figure slipping between the shadows with deliberate purpose. His chirps were sharper than usual, insistent. He paused often, glancing back to ensure they followed. Each pause brought a tense stare into the dimness ahead, as if anticipating something - or someone.


    ¡°Why would anyone make a place like this?¡± Selina muttered, glancing up at a rusted fire escape that creaked in the breeze. ¡°If you¡¯re programming a space, wouldn¡¯t you at least try for, I don¡¯t know, a little charm? It¡¯s all grey and... miserable.¡±


    Rosa paused, running her fingers along a crumbling brick wall. Her nails scraped flakes of paint from an old sign, its faded letters offering vague promises of quality goods long since forgotten. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s the point. It¡¯s supposed to feel... empty. Abandoned. If you want to control people¡¯s attention, you don¡¯t let them get comfortable.¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°Or maybe whoever made it has a thing for dystopias.¡±


    ¡°Or, even in virtual reality places are needed for shady dealings.¡± Rosa glanced at Ro, who was now perched on a broken concrete bollard ahead. His small frame seemed coiled with tension, his eyes scanning the darkness.


    The alley narrowed as they rounded a corner, the walls looming higher, their surfaces fractured in places with faint digital distortions. Broken advertisements sputtered into half-life, their pixelated remnants stuttering through nonsensical messages. Find what you need - need what you find. A cartoonish face laughed silently before glitching into static.


    ¡°Delightful,¡± Selina murmured, sidestepping a puddle that had things floating in it.


    ¡°Everything here feels grim,¡± Rosa said, her voice low. ¡°It¡¯s like...¡± She hesitated, struggling to put words to the sense of unease tugging at her.


    ¡°Like someone wanted it to feel like reality,¡± Selina offered, ¡°but couldn¡¯t resist leaving their fingerprints all over it.¡±


    They rounded a corner, and a doorway came into view. A sign saying RealityStep, its letters dull and lifeless, hung above a rusted door barely distinguishable from the walls around it. Rowan hesitated near the threshold, his small body tense.


    Selina sighed. ¡°Well, here we are. Whatever that means. This little guy seems to know exactly what he''s doing.¡±


    But Rosa wasn¡¯t looking at the sign. Her gaze had turned back on the passageway behind them, where faint shapes flickered in and out of the dimness. She blinked, her stomach tight as they coalesced into slender, long-limbed figures.


    They moved hesitantly, their outlines soft and indistinct, like smudges of light against the dark alley. There were five - no, six of them, their elongated forms unnervingly familiar. Rosa took a step forward, her pulse quickening.


    ¡°Selina...¡± she began, but her voice faltered.


    ¡°I see them,¡± Selina whispered, her tone wavering. ¡°What... what are they?¡±


    The figures seemed to hover at the edge of perception, their movements fluid but disjointed, as though they were tethered to a different rhythm. Their dark eyes glimmered faintly, locked on the trio with unnerving intensity.


    Rosa¡¯s breath came shallow. ¡°They look like...¡± Her voice trailed off as the realisation hit her. ¡°Cebus monkeys. But they¡¯re not...¡±


    The figures tilted their heads in eerie unison, as though hearing her thoughts. One stepped forward, its outline flickering, and reached a hand toward them.


    ¡°Rosa,¡± Selina hissed, grabbing her arm. ¡°What do they want? They can''t be part of Infinity NexUs This isn¡¯t...¡±


    A sharp shriek broke the tension. Ro was glaring down the alley, past the apparitions, his eyes narrowing. Rosa wondered why he might be so antagonised by the cebus things. Then she saw the why.


    Creeping, low to the ground, a small, hunched mechanism, jointed and yellow, with glowing red lenses.


    The effect was instant. The ephemeral figures recoiled, their shapes sparking erratically. One by one, they began to scatter, their forms dissolving into the shadows as what appeared to be a mechanical rat slunk into the centre of the alleyway. The sound of its clicking feet echoed unnaturally, filling the alley with a metallic rhythm.


    Rosa¡¯s heart pounded. ¡°They¡¯re... afraid of it?¡±


    Selina¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°Now, what on earth is that thing?¡±


    Before Selina could respond, more crawled into view - sinister rodent things, angular, dark yellow, their red eyes cutting through the gloom like lasers. Their faces questing, their movements deliberate and unrelenting.


    ¡°Oh no,¡± Selina breathed. ¡°What do they want?¡±


    The unnatural creatures scuttled forward, fanning out across the alleyway. One emitted a sharp, high-pitched whine that set Rosa¡¯s teeth on edge.


    Rowan shrieked, tugging at Rosa¡¯s sleeve, before darting toward the RealityStep door, chattering frantically.


    ¡°We need to move,¡± Selina said, her voice high and thin.


    Rosa didn¡¯t respond, her heart still lost in the sorrowful yearning of the ethereal cebus things. The rats closed in, their glassy eyes scanning hungrily, their pace quickening.


    ¡°Rosa!¡± Selina¡¯s shout jolted her.


    Rowan scrambled ahead of them toward the short flight of stairs leading to the door. The others stumbled toward it in desperation. Selina reached it first, yanking the handle.


    ¡°It¡¯s locked!¡± she shouted, slamming her shoulder into the door. ¡°It won¡¯t open!¡±


    The rats swarmed closer, claws scraping against the concrete like nails on a chalkboard. Without warning, one leapt forward, its claws digging into Selina¡¯s ankle.


    Selina screamed, trying to shake it off, but the rat clung on, its metal limbs locking tightly around her leg. ¡°Get it off me!¡±


    Rosa swung a clumsy kick at it, but the creature refused to budge. Another rat lunged, its metallic jaws narrowly missing Rosa¡¯s foot as she managed to boot it away.


    Meanwhile, Rowan swung up the side of the door. His small hand reached out, unseen by the others, pressing against a faintly glowing panel embedded in the wall. A soft beep echoed, and the door clicked open with a hiss.


    ¡°It''s open! Go!¡± Rosa shouted, dragging Selina forward.


    The trio tumbled through the door, the rat still clinging to Selina¡¯s ankle. Rosa spun and shoved the door shut with her full weight, the metallic impacts of the rats hitting the other side sending vibrations through the frame.


    Selina collapsed against a wall, trying to shake off the mechanical vermin which was scrabbling doggedly up her leg. ¡°Get it off me!¡± she cried, her voice rising in panic.


    Rosa leaned close, waited for the right moment, then drove her boot down on the thing. It let out a piercing whine before its grip loosened, and it tumbled to the floor.


    Rowan sprang forward without hesitation, snatching up the yellow bot and hurling it against the wall with a sharp, echoing crack. The impact shattered its body, sending mechanical fragments scattering through the air, revealing blinking circuits that flickered erratically before fading into darkness. The broken remains lay utterly still.


    The silence that followed was suffocating. Rosa sank to the floor, her chest heaving, while Selina clutched her ankle, her face pale and shaken. Ro paced restlessly, his movements sharp and agitated.


    ¡°What is wrong with this place?¡± Selina finally managed, her voice trembling. ¡°It¡¯s supposed to be a virtual shopper¡¯s paradise!¡±


    Rosa¡¯s gaze lingered on the door, her mind racing. The rats, the figures, the theatre - it all felt like fragments of a nightmare that didn¡¯t end when she woke.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over,¡± she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Rowan paused, glancing at her, his sharp eyes filled with a tension she couldn¡¯t quite place.


    Ahead, a corridor stretched, dimly lit and unwelcoming.

 Ink and Dust

    Rosa and Selina took in their surroundings: a drab corridor that seemed pieced together from leftover virtual assets. The walls were a jarring mix of fractured textures, like a hastily slapped-together painting of patterns that didn¡¯t quite align and artificial repetitions. Overhead, flickering lights sputtered and jittered like corrupted code. The floor was a flat, uninspired expanse of scuffed grey. The whole space felt as though no one had bothered to finish it. The silence was uncomfortably still.


    Selina gazed around, rubbing her ankle. "This... this is supposed to be a high-end virtual complex?" She got up and stepped cautiously, her movements hesitant, as if the ground might give way beneath her. "It looks like we¡¯ve wandered into a digital backwater."


    Rosa frowned, her mind racing. The place felt basic, like it wasn¡¯t meant to be seen by anyone that mattered. "Maybe that¡¯s exactly what it is," she murmured, her voice distant as she tried to settle her breathing.


    Selina leaned on Rosa as she rubbed at a graze on her shin, her expression dark but intrigued. "Do you think those¡­ things we saw - the see-through monkeys - were part of this glitchy mess? Or were they..." she hesitated, biting her lip before continuing, "errors, perhaps, some kind of data ghosts?"


    "Data ghosts?" Rosa repeated, considering the idea. "What, like residual traces of something left behind in the system? Could be. If so, they''re just harmless memory echoes. Is your leg okay?"


    Selina shrugged, brushing off the last question. "Why not? The programming here must be mind-blowing - maybe it¡¯s struggling under the weight of all that data, leaking fragments of old code. The sebus things could be leftover scraps from whatever M.A.S.S. or RealityStep has been messing with - something they didn¡¯t clean up properly or just couldn''t contain.¡± She squinted at a faint shimmer along the far wall. "You saw how those apparitions bent reality. They weren¡¯t just visual."


    Rosa mulled this over, though her gut told her it was something more deliberate. "And the rats? They weren''t any kind of accident. They were synchronised, focused. They moved like..." She hesitated, but the word hovered in her mind before she gave voice to it. "Drones. Someone - or something - was watching us through them."


    Selina gave her a sideways glance. "You think they were spy bots? Programmed security rats?" She frowned, struggling to piece things together. ¡°Okay, so we¡¯ve got rat drones and monkey hallucinations? That doesn¡¯t even begin to make sense. Like, they¡¯re not even in the same ballpark, are they? One¡¯s a machine, the other¡¯s¡­ what? Some kind of remnant projection? Why would both of those things show up at the same time? It¡¯s like someone grabbed two random ideas out of a hat and threw them at us for no reason.¡±


    Rosa shook her head. "I don¡¯t know. But those rats weren¡¯t just remnants of a malfunctioning program. They had a purpose. Someone sent them."


    Rowan, silent until now, slapped a hand against the nearest wall, the sharp impact cutting through the eerie stillness. He then pressed both his palms flat against the surface, his fingers splayed wide, as though feeling for a pulse beneath the jagged, half-formed textures. The wall darkened momentarily, shadows rippling outward, and Rowan¡¯s gaze sharpened, his body coiled as if the disturbed code had whispered something significant. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he sprang forward, bounding off into the RealityStep virtual complex.


    Rosa and Selina both heaved a sigh and followed, moving quickly but cautiously, their footsteps muted in the hollow quiet of the digital space. This was nothing like the gleaming, polished utopia advertised on the company¡¯s website. This part of the complex had a rough, distinctly unpolished feel - textures patchily rendered, edges unfinished - as though they¡¯d entered somewhere of little consequence, not needing to conceal its unreality.


    Selina exhaled dramatically as she surveyed the seemingly half-formed corridor. "Fantastic. Another detour into digital limbo. Honestly, does anything in this world stick to the brochure?"


    Rosa gave a tired half-smile, running a hand through her hair. "Guessing not, if we¡¯re involved. This place... it¡¯s like they built it, realised it wasn¡¯t Instagrammable, and just abandoned it." She gestured at a wall where the surface seemed wrongly scaled for its structure.


    "Or worse," Selina muttered, brushing her fingertips over an untextured section. It felt oddly tacky despite its smooth appearance. "They didn¡¯t abandon it. They use it for less ¡®public¡¯ matters."


    Rowan paused a few paces ahead and turned to look at them, his golden eyes glinting in the dim, flickering light. He tilted his head sharply, then scampered forward again, his black fur blending into the shadows of the programmed architecture.


    Selina gestured toward the macaque with an exasperated wave. "He¡¯s getting fed up with us dragging our feet."


    "I don¡¯t think that¡¯s frustration," Rosa replied, watching Ro. "That¡¯s vigilance. Like he half expects this place to bite back."


    "Great," Selina said, her voice low with anxiety as she watched Rowan disappear into the shadows. "We¡¯ve got a hyper-aware monkey in charge, rat drones watching us and data remnants trying to tell us something. Does this ever stop feeling like we''re walking into something we shouldn''t?"


    Rosa sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I hope so. But what¡¯s the alternative? Curl up in a corner and hope the next glitch eats us?"


    ¡°We could exit the system and have a nice coffee,¡± Selina offered.


    Rosa let out a soft laugh, her tone then turning grim. "Let¡¯s just get what we came for and get out."


    "Assuming it doesn''t get us first," Selina muttered under her breath, but she followed without further complaint, the weariness in her stride matching Rosa¡¯s.


    Rowan stopped in front of a panel mounted on the wall and raised a hand. Rosa gasped as she recognized the design - a white android hand with an amber orb embedded in the palm. The words LumiGard YBM Interface were faintly etched in a circle around it.


    ¡°Wait! No¡­¡±


    Ro hesitated at Rosa¡¯s reaction, then, before she could stop him, he placed his hand on the panel. For a moment, the intercom flared to life with a soft, electric hum, and the monkey let out a series of soft chittering clicks and low, throaty grunts, punctuated by a sharp, curious squeak.


    The panel lit up, causing Rosa to flinch back, watching the light crawl over Rowan¡¯s hand. She darted a glance at Selina, who held one hand to her forehead as if shielding herself from an oncoming glare. She stepped backward, clutching Rosa¡¯s arm. Rosa barely noticed, her gaze fixed on the interface, her mouth dry with the overwhelming sensation that they¡¯d been exposed before the AI¡¯s unblinking gaze. The idea of alerting its attention filled her with a claustrophobic fear. She could almost feel LumiGard¡¯s presence crawling in the air between them, half-expecting to hear its inhuman voice.


    Instead, the intercom buzzed with a dissonant groan and the light blinked out. Then the air in front of them abruptly peeled away as though reality had pixelated into layers upon layers of tiles that dropped from an invisible wall, or a tower of cascading coded dominoes collapsing before their faces, dissolving as they fell. Selina instinctively threw up her arms, uncertain if the phenomenon was occurring before her eyes or inside them.


    Then, with a sudden hush, Infinity NexUs was gone.


    The place beyond made the previous unfinished zone look positively ordinary. They had stepped into a barely physical space, its dimensions obscured by an eerie twilight that glowed with pulsing neon hues. There were hints of walls formed of shifting patterns, remnants of code flickering like ghostly graffiti, leaving trails of light that faded into the shadows.


    ¡°It''s not exactly welcoming, is it?¡± Selina pulled a face, reaching out to Rosa for support. ¡°Are we stuck in some lost zone LumiGard has created?¡±


    Ro seemed to find the change perfectly natural and motioned for them to follow, his earlier anxious demeanour now much relaxed. Strange echoes softened the air as they walked - digital whispers and light, distant hissing. The scent of something artificial and new lingered, wisps of secrets hidden within this virtual realm.


    Rosa¡¯s heart raced. The thought that they might be straying into LumiGard¡¯s control left her fighting a mix of fear and exhilaration as they ventured deeper into the unknown, compelled by the need to uncover the truth that lay waiting in these virtual shadows.


    ¡°We can get out - I mean jump offline if we need to - can''t we?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Yeah. We just say the exit phrase or use the command gesture.¡±


    As Ro led them on, Rosa glanced at Selina, concern creasing her brow. "Where is he taking us? What is this place?"


    Selina frowned, her gaze drifting over the mismatched surroundings. "I don¡¯t know," she said, her voice soft and unsure. "It¡¯s like this place is made up of all these repurposed leftovers - bits of unused, forgotten code. Like, stuff that was never meant to see the light of day, but somehow it all got stitched together into... well, this. I''d feel a lot happier if I knew where we are."


    Before any more could be said, a subtle shimmer passed through the space around them, and thin, transparent figures began to flicker in and out of view. Rosa¡¯s eyes widened as she realized they were looking at people moving about through the main RealityStep complex, as though the walls around them had lost solidity. For a moment, she could make out things in the background: outlines of hallways, display monitors, and desks, all ghostly and insubstantial. Her pulse quickened - if they could see the people in the complex, did that mean they, too, were visible? Selina gazed around, her shoulders tensing as she pulled a little closer to Rosa. It was as if only a thin veil separated them from the heart of RealityStep.


    Then, the transparency clouded, the shadowy walls reforming, more solid than before, but flashing darkly, appearing different with each flash as though deciding on how to appear.


    A faint string of text glitched among the digital detritus, one word at a time: ¡®Ghost data - harmless memory echoes.¡¯


    Rosa squinted at the text, which vanished almost as soon as it appeared. "Did you see that?"


    Selina nodded, her face pale. "What does that mean? Ghost data? This whole place is freaking me out. Couldn''t be somewhere nice and inviting, like a library¡­ or a bookshop¡­ books are friendly.¡±


    Rosa shook her head, grinning despite her discomfort. "You''re such a geek. Her gaze flicked around the space, unease creeping up her neck. "I keep wondering... is LumiGard listening to us? Watching us? Everything here feels too... responsive, like it''s been waiting for us to figure something out. What if it''s been hearing every word we¡¯ve said, every thought we¡¯ve had?"


    "RealityStep watching us?" Selina muttered, her gaze darting around nervously.


    As the strange passage shifted around them, the darkness shifted, morphing with an indecisive flutter that unsettled Rosa even more. Ro, scampered ahead, his silhouette dark and distinct against the shifting textures of the place, again casting glances back to ensure they were following.


    Digital static buzzed and blinked, the walls appearing first as rows of stacked, translucent data blocks, then warping into misty corridors. Each pulse seemed to be deciding on a new form, the structure teetering between blocky digital fragments and something more familiar. Rosa¡¯s eyes strained against the shifting gloom, the fragments unsettlingly like afterimages of a place she almost recognised.


    Selina leaned close, her voice hushed. "It¡¯s like it¡¯s¡­ trying to figure out how to look."


    A hazy warmth then began to seep through the passage. Gradually, the uneasy darkness softened, melting into the faint scent of old parchment and polished wood, as though layers of an ancient place were peeling back to welcome them. Here and there, shadows solidified into thick wooden bookshelves, stretching overhead and brimming with dusty tomes bound in deep greens, reds, and faded browns.


    The space unfurled like an ancient, sprawling bookshop, but one with odd, labyrinthine qualities. A passage twisted ahead, full of alcoves where shelves rose in uneven stacks, some practically bursting with yellowed paper, old maps, and worn leather covers.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Selina exchanged a look with Rosa, both of them wide-eyed at the choice of appearance the AI had selected.


    ¡°A library,¡± Selina breathed.


    As they approached the entrance to the library, Rosa¡¯s eyes were drawn upward to a low beam stretching across the archway. There, etched into the wood, was a symbol in the shape of an elegant "S" - its curves twisting into an infinity loop, as if time itself had coiled into the grain of the beam. The faint light caught the grooves, making the symbol shimmer like it was made of something softer than wood.


    Rosa slowed as she stepped closer, her fingers brushing against the smooth, polished surface. She ran her fingertip along the symbol, following its endless loops, and as she did, an unexpected warmth seemed to seep through her skin, a sensation so fleeting and intimate she could hardly believe it was real. The symbol pulsed softly beneath her hand, sending a wave of sensation through her spine - a combination of recognition and curiosity, as if it had known her long before she¡¯d touched it.


    When she withdrew her hand, the sensation lingered in the air, like a whisper left behind. The beam returned to its ordinary, weathered appearance, but the symbol seemed to have etched itself into her memory, alive with secrets it wasn¡¯t yet ready to reveal.


    Rowan seemed to know where to go despite the dramatic change of scenery, his urgency now softened somewhat, his tufted crest bobbing as he went. He led them through narrow corridors that snaked off in every direction without hesitating. Some places were barely wide enough to squeeze through, winding off into unexpected side rooms and stairways that spiralled down or led further up to brass-railed mezzanines laden with even more shelves. Dust motes drifted in the air, twinkling and weightless.


    ¡°This place kind of reminds me of The Library of Babel,¡± Rosa muttered. ¡°Or the Infinite Library. You heard of those? The Borges story or the one in The Starless Sea? They¡¯re about these endless, overwhelming spaces full of books - most of them meaningless, but hidden somewhere are ones that hold all the answers. Feels like we¡¯re walking through one of those right now - so much knowledge, but no idea how to find what we''re actually looking for."


    Ro leaped effortlessly onward between low shelves, pausing just long enough to make sure they were following his lead before swinging down another passageway.


    As Rosa went, she ran her fingers along the edge of a nearby shelf, her heartbeat slowing at the feel of the oddly calming textures. She glanced at Selina, who was eyeing the rows of books with suspicion but seemed equally caught by the atmosphere¡¯s quiet, bookish charm.


    ¡°This¡­ this feels real,¡± Selina whispered, as if reluctant to disturb the calm. "Is LumiGard behind it all? But¡­ how far does it go?"


    Rosa glanced down a dim corridor with stepped side passages at every turn, lined with books stacked to the ceiling. ¡°Feels like it could go on forever,¡± she murmured, the twists and turns giving the impression of a labyrinth designed to both lure them deeper and, perhaps, to hide them from prying eyes. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder if LumiGard was creating this maze to answer their unspoken fears, to assure them they were safe here - or perhaps to mislead them into losing their way.


    They continued following Rowan as he led them up a narrow, angling staircase, the air growing hazier until they entered a dimly lit attic space. Thin threads of light crisscrossed through the attic, giving it a soft-focus air of wistful nostalgia - a secret sanctuary, meant to be hidden. The scent of old wood and the faint musk of paper seemed to cling to the air, as though the room had been waiting for them, silently, for years. It was the kind of space that felt remembered from afar - like a forgotten melody drifting from an open window.


    "Why would RealityStep leave a space like this?" Selina murmured, with a shiver. Her voice felt too close, too loud in the hushed stillness, as though the room was a sanctuary for something far softer than their presence.


    "Maybe they didn¡¯t," Rosa replied, her voice low, a soft note of wonder in it. "What if someone else built it?" She spoke almost to herself, gazing around the attic as if the space might slip away from her fingers like sand through a sieve.


    Selina frowned. ¡°Who? Who else would have access to the code in here?¡±


    At that, the attic began to warm with a soft golden glow. The web-like patterns overhead softened into rays of light that seemed to descend through unseen skylights, casting down, lighting the dust in the air in a quiet reverence. It was as though the space itself were stirring, waking from a long, endless slumber, as though it had been waiting, all this time, just for them.


    As they stepped into the attic, they noticed, on the floor, Rowan¡¯s footprints glimmering ahead, his agile movements leaving tiny bursts of blue-green light with every step. Turning, their own footfalls too left faint, bioluminescent prints trailing in their wake, twinkling like tiny stars scattered in thin, silvery galaxies.


    The strange illumination caught Selina¡¯s breath. The way the space responded to their movements made it feel alive, attuned to their presence, as though it were revealing itself layer by layer. Rowan stopped near an overhanging bookshelf and, with a delicate gesture, pulled out a thick, dust-laden book and held it up to Rosa, his dark, thoughtful eyes glancing between her and the cover.


    ¡°Does he want you to read to him?¡± Selina asked, a slight tremor in her voice.


    ¡°Finnegan¡¯s Wake? I doubt it.¡± Rosa answered, running her hand across the cover. James Joyce didn''t exactly make this one easy reading.¡± Taking the book. She flipped through a few leaves, uncertain what to look for. As she shifted her weight, her foot brushed lightly across the dusty floor, and suddenly, as if her touch had stirred something into life, a faint glimmer appeared beneath her. Rosa imagined that the gentle verdigris sparkle was simply another bioluminescent flare, stirred up where her foot had rested.


    Slowly though, the shimmer spread outward, tracing an intricate pattern across the floorboards, winding together like strands of some magical nebula. Rosa held her breath, watching as the lights gently wove into the form of a vague square shape. Tiny glowing flecks clustered and shifted, almost as if the floor itself were awakening, until the shape sharpened into blocks and squares, the unmistakable pattern of a QR code, etched in silvery-blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat.


    Drawn to its strange allure, Selina pulled out her phone. With a mixture of awe and curiosity, she aimed her camera at the glowing code.


    "It''s linked to a webcam," she murmured, showing Rosa the feed on her screen of a rain-soaked backstreet, its low resolution distorted by streaks of water running down the lens.


    In the picture, a figure appeared from the shadows - a youth, hood pulled low, a spray can gripped in his hand. He moved swiftly as he tagged a concrete wall with bold, sweeping strokes cutting through the rain. Then, as if sensing the camera¡¯s watchful eye, he turned, revealing his work: a stylised, arcing number - 270.


    His gaze met the lens, defiant, then he threw his arms wide like a challenge. Without hesitation, he grabbed a brick and hurled it straight at the camera. The screen cracked and fizzled, before plunging into complete blackness.


    Rosa leaned over, her curiosity piqued. "What was that all about?¡± She raised an eyebrow at Selina, then shrugged, bemused. "I¡¯ve got no idea what it¡¯s supposed to mean," she admitted, glancing between the phone and her friend.


    Selina thought for a moment, then lightly pressed the toes of one foot onto the floorboards. The pressure produced another subtle glimmer on the floor, then another, faintly pulsing, calling for attention. They stopped when a trio of gently corruscating square patterns, intricate spreading QR codes, manifested about her feet.


    Driven by an almost reverent fascination, Selina stared at each glowing formation, her phone trembling slightly in her hand. As she scanned them one by one, each opened a different webpage - disparate and enigmatic, their apparent randomness puzzling and strange.


    ¡°Another website,¡± Selina murmured, angling her phone toward Rosa. The screen displayed a periodic table diagram, coloured boxes on a dark background. A title said, elements of known and unknown matter. As they watched, one box lifted and moved to the fore.


    The element was labeled 164, with its systematic name Unhexquadium (Uhq) displayed in crisp lettering. Text unfurled beneath it, detailing its speculative nature: ¡°Atomic number: 164. Predicted member of the superactinides. Theorized to be highly unstable, with a half-life measured in microseconds.¡± Additional notes explained that its extreme instability made it a fleeting presence, difficult to study but brimming with possibility.


    ¡°Un¡­ hex¡­ ququadium,¡± Rosa read uncertainly. ¡°Why are we seeing that?¡±


    ¡°Maybe it''s the number that we''re supposed to be noticing? The other had a number too. 164, take a note, just in case,¡± Selina suggested.


    The third QR code linked to a monochrome still photograph of a city street at dusk. The shot was grainy, the kind of image that felt unearthed from an old archive - a frozen moment of quiet urban life. Rows of cars lined the street, their outlines softened by the haze of evening. Selina and Rosa stared at it, searching for meaning.


    ¡°Maybe we got that wrong,¡± Selina sighed, giving up scanning the picture.


    ¡°There''s this,¡± Rosa said, pointing at a tiny timestamp under the image. ¡°4:30.¡±


    The digits winked out as soon as she mentioned them, confirming her suspicion.


    The final QR opened to an otherworldly display: a dark oceanic expanse, alive with the ethereal glow of drifting jellyfish. Their translucent bells pulsed softly, casting shifting halos of light that rippled across the screen like whispers of a forgotten tide. Selina peered at her phone as the jellyfish drifted, their movements subtle yet deliberate, as though they were aligning to some unseen force.


    Then, at just the right angle, their glowing trails converged. The number 84 briefly formed by their trailing tendrils. It was a fleeting image, visible only for a moment, as if the jellyfish were revealing a secret they carried in their depths.


    Selina looked at Rosa. "164¡­ 430¡­ 84¡­ what was the first one? The guy with the spray can?¡±


    ¡°Two hundred and something,¡± Rosa offered.¡± Do those mean anything to you? They don''t to me.¡±


    Rowan hopped forward and tugged at the book in Rosa''s hand.


    ¡°Could these mean¡­ page numbers?¡± Selina suggested hesitantly.


    Rosa followed the suggestion, flipping to each page, but seeing nothing significant. ¡°This is all too trite. Clues in¡­ Wait¡­ first letters?¡± she wondered, jotting down the letters of the first words she saw on the pages. ¡°IND? We didn¡¯t take note of the first number.¡±


    ¡°Find,¡± Selina said, ¡°What else could it be?¡±


    ¡°Now who''s jumping to conclusions?¡± Rosa said. ¡°Those numbers might be anything - or nothing even.¡±


    Selina held her breath. "No, it¡¯s guiding us. Check page 270. That was the graffiti guy. I bet it starts with F.¡± She was gleeful when it did. ¡°See! We have to¡­ ¡®find¡¯ something." She whispered the word like a hidden truth, one the room itself seemed to acknowledge with a faint stirring of the light. The shadows gathered around them as if waiting for the next turn in their discovery, and the library, once again, seemed to shift, ready to reveal its secrets.


    ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± Rosa muttered. ¡°It feels like we''re being sucked into a corny code-solving video game.¡±


    Selina¡¯s attention drifted as she scanned the room, only half-focused, until Rowan gave a sudden, impatient tug on her sleeve. She looked down, catching his intent gaze as he gently pulled a thick green book from the shelf and held it up to her with a little grunt. She took it, noticing the embossed title: Compendium of Ancient Herbs and Oils. Rowan watched her expectantly, his dark eyes alert, as if he knew something she didn¡¯t.


    "Alright, alright, let''s see," she muttered, opening the book carefully. Flipping through its brittle pages, she felt something unexpectedly smooth slip beneath her fingertips. Rowan made a soft, approving pant of air as she lifted a pressed leaf from between the pages. It was smooth and slender, silvery along the edges, unlike anything else in the dusty library. She held it up to the light, running her thumb across its waxy surface. As she did, a crisp, almost medicinal scent began to fill the air around her, fresh and unmistakable.


    ¡°Eucalyptus,¡± Selina murmured, glancing back at Rowan, who blinked back with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, as if to say, Now you¡¯re getting somewhere.


    Selina ran a hand over her cheek, still caught in the scent of eucalyptus as Rowan gave a contented huff beside her. Rosa, watching the exchange, suddenly looked more thoughtful, as if the pieces were slotting into place. She took the pressed leaf from Selina¡¯s hand, examining it with a slight smile.


    "Eucalyptus," she said, almost to herself, the word hanging in the air. "The gum tree."


    Selina looked at her, puzzled. "Gum tree? As in¡­?¡±


    Rosa nodded slowly. ¡°The Paignton Zoo monkeys - they named them all after trees. Each one after a different species. This¡­ this isn¡¯t just eucalyptus. It¡¯s a message.¡± Her eyes flicked from the leaf to Rowan and back again, as the connection solidified. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to ¡®find Gum.¡¯ He¡¯s the typing monkey in my dreams.¡±


    Rowan let out a small, pleased chitter as if to confirm Rosa¡¯s conclusion.


    ¡°This is all so ridiculously cryptic,¡± Selina said. ¡°Why doesn''t LumiGard or RealityStep or whoever this is, just tell us what they want?¡±


    ¡°Because they don¡¯t want to be caught feeding us information,¡± Rosa replied. ¡°If this is LumiGard, it¡¯s sticking to its usual tactics - dropping subtle hints and nudges, things that only we would pick up on. It¡¯s... like it¡¯s trying to help, in its own strange way.¡±


    An unexpected image then flashed in the virtual space around them: a map, a schematic of a building floor plan.


    Selina gasped, turning to Rosa, her eyes wide with confusion. "Where did that come from?"


    Rosa hesitated, sensing LumiGard¡¯s presence. She remembered the AI''s eerie attentiveness from their first encounter. But here, in this hidden space, its approach felt different - subtly conspiratorial.


    Another image flickered in the air - a closer view of what she realised was the MASS facility floor plan, highlighting an area labelled Observation Unit 12. The map lingered for a few moments, almost as if waiting for her to memorise it before dissolving into thin air. Rosa felt a surge of urgency; the AI was risking something to show them this.


    Selina looked at her. "You¡¯re saying LumiGard is doing this on its own? What - hiding from¡­ from who?


    Rosa nodded. ¡°I don''t know. RealityStep? MASS? Itself? It¡¯s trying to tell us where they¡¯re keeping Gum - the real Gum - I think.¡±


    The image vanished. Observation Unit 12. Rosa committed the details to memory. As she did, the soft, amber light around them began to flicker and fade, the warm beams casting dancing shadows that wavered before dimming entirely. The attic¡¯s lines softened, blurred, then thinned into strange, fluid tendrils of light that dissolved into the air like wisps of vapor. The dusty scent of old books and the golden glow of imagined skylights vanished with a subtle, resonant sigh - as if the entire room were exhaling, dispersing its presence back into the digital ether.


    They found themselves standing in silent darkness, save for the faint, glimmer of a single string of letters, which curled around them. Rows upon rows of lowercase "g", running across their vision in rapid succession:


    gggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg


    The string of ¡®g¡¯s flowed in the darkness, its meaning elusive yet somehow unsettling. Rosa pouted as she tried to make sense of it, the bizarre, rhythmic repetition pressing into her thoughts like a melody that almost - almost - tugged at a memory.


    "Why¡­ all ¡®g¡¯s?" Selina murmured, her voice hushed, as though speaking any louder would break some unspoken spell. The long stream of letters had an almost hypnotic quality, hinting at something significant yet beyond reach.


    The letters faded, leaving a residual glow before dissolving into silence. Rosa blinked, her mind racing. Near the start of the zoo monkeys'' typing, there had been a cluster of repeating ''g''s. Why would the attic want her to remember that - and what possible connection could it have to anything?


    She glanced at Selina, but in the dim light, her friend¡¯s expression was as blank and wide-eyed as her own, equally baffled by the cryptic trail of clues.


    "Let¡¯s go," she said, her voice taut with urgency. "If RealityStep catches us, this information might be helpful."

 Beyond the Glass

    Rosa and Selina smelt the tang of RealityStep¡¯s bare, unfinished corridors before they appeared. It was as though the dark had blinked, stripping away its layers to reveal something unresolved beneath. Rowan crouched low, his fingers brushing the cold floor as if testing its texture, then straightened and tilted his head, listening intently. Rosa glanced at Selina, who looked just as disoriented with the sense of having been pulled from one unreality to another.


    A faint resonance of the attic¡¯s final whisper lingered, particularly the string of g¡¯s that had drifted by their eyes in the virtual air, still in Rosa''s mind. She felt an odd pang - a longing, almost - for the hidden space that had just slipped away. Rowan looked up at her, his upturned face barely discernible in the gloom.


    Dim LED strips cast an anaemic luminance, revealing walls with muted colours, the textures patchy - here a sharp, too-bright patch of metal, there a dark blur where the rendering hadn¡¯t kept up, creating the unsettling sense they were moving through an unfinished, unimportant part of the simulation.


    The women were about to venture down the corridor when a sound stopped them dead in their tracks. A low, rhythmic vocalisation of intricate grunts punctuated by occasional sharp inhales and soft vocal pops. The urgent groove was undercut with a dull hum that buzzed through the air as a hover cart appeared, drifting smoothly into view as if it had materialized out of thin air.


    The beatboxing man steering the hover cart was dressed in the standard RealityStep uniform, but with the kind of eccentric flair that suggested he didn¡¯t much care about convention. His name tag read ¡°GUS¡±, though someone had scrawled over it with a red marker, adding, "Director of Shenanigans¡±. Gus had a neon scarf slung over his shoulder, and matching socks that peered out from under his trousers as he casually steered the cart mouthing a loud beatbox groove, the frame of the hover cart whirring as it glided effortlessly across the floor.


    The cart itself was a floating platform cluttered with an assortment of oddities: a small aquarium containing a translucent fish that blinked in time to Gus¡¯ groove; a stack of disassembled VR headsets, their wires still buzzing faintly with residual energy; a tangled mess of neon cables pulsing like veins; and a prosthetic orange eye attached to a set of metal stalks, each holding an additional small, translucent lens aligned in the air like delicate insect wings..


    ¡°Stop the presses!¡± Gus called out dramatically, skidding to a halt in front of them. ¡°I knew it! The rumours were true! Someone¡¯s been running illicit monkey experiments in the sub-levels. And here you are, bold as brass, parading your subject through my corridor.¡± He pointed a finger at Rowan, who stood unblinking and unfazed by the attention.


    Rosa raised an eyebrow. ¡°We¡¯re not... running experiments. We¡¯re just lost.¡±


    ¡°Lost, she says!¡± Gus threw his hands up in mock horror. ¡°Lost, with a monkey who looks like he¡¯s plotting a hostile takeover of the gel market; love that crest. Do you think I was born yesterday?¡±


    Selina stepped forward, her tone sharp and unbothered. ¡°We took a wrong turn. Can you point us back to the public area?¡±


    ¡°Ah, the public area. The land of overpriced imaginary cappuccinos and augmented reality gift shops,¡± Gus said with a dramatic sigh, leaning on the hover cart. ¡°Sure, I could take you there. But what if... you¡¯re spies? Corporate saboteurs sent to infiltrate our core systems! I¡¯d be the laughingstock of the company if I just let you waltz out of here.¡±


    Rowan tilted his head slightly, meeting Gus¡¯s gaze with unblinking calm. Gus faltered for a moment, his playful demeanor giving way to a flicker of uncertainty.


    ¡°Okay, fine, he¡¯s got honest eyes,¡± Gus muttered, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°But you two? Not so much. Especially you, ponytail.¡±


    Selina¡¯s lips twitched into a smirk. ¡°Careful, or I¡¯ll make you regret saying that.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, fiery! I like it.¡± Gus grinned, tossing a sleek multitool into the air and deftly catching it. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll take you back. But only because I¡¯ve got a meeting with the cleaning bots in ten minutes, and they hate it when I¡¯m late.¡±


    Selina pointedly flicked her ponytail and asked, ¡°Tell me, Gus - you don''t happen to have a brother called Zephyr by any chance?¡±


    Gus paused, looking genuinely puzzled. ¡°No... Should I?¡±


    ¡°Never mind,¡± Selina replied, shaking her head and meeting Rosa''s disapproving glare with a shrug.


    Gus spun the hover cart around with a flourish, the fish inside the aquarium flicking its tail absentmindedly, the prosthetic orange eye twinking softly in the dim light.


    ¡°Follow me, my wayward wanderers! Try not to touch anything, and definitely don¡¯t lick the walls. Don¡¯t ask why. Just don¡¯t.¡±


    They followed cautiously, Rosa and Selina exchanging glances as Gus rambled on. ¡°You know, this place isn¡¯t all holograms and brain-hacking fun times. There¡¯s a whole ecosystem down here. Did you know the servers have their own microclimate? It¡¯s practically raining in Subsection D. And don¡¯t get me started on the rogue vending machines.¡±


    When they reached the door to the foyer, Gus spun around and struck a pose, gesturing grandly as the door hissed open.


    ¡°Behold! Your gateway to normalcy. Go forth and blend in. But remember, if anyone asks, you didn¡¯t see me. In fact, I didn¡¯t see me. Gus who? Never heard of him.¡±


    The door slid open, revealing the vibrant, otherworldly beauty of RealityStep¡¯s main foyer. Gus eyebrow waved at them, then made an exaggerated bow as the fish in the aquarium blinked rhythmically at their departure.


    ¡°Good luck out there, kids. And keep an eye on the monkey. He¡¯s got revolution written all over him.¡±


    With that, he disappeared back into the labyrinth, his hover cart humming as it floated off, leaving behind the faint echo of his last words.


    The shift in surroundings was instant and disorienting, as if they had stepped out of grayscale into vivid color. RealityStep¡¯s main foyer exploded before them, an awe-inspiring space that felt plucked from the edges of a lucid dream. The polished concrete walls held seamless display panels rippling with streams of glowing code that occasionally coalesced into images: faces, dreamscapes, and abstract forms. Overhead, the ceiling was specked with faint particles suggesting a neural network through which pulses of energy flowed like the firing of synapses, casting a soft, ambient glow.


    The floors were a highly buffed gunmetal grey, giving very lightly underfoot, putting a slight bounce into each step. Soft orchestral tones filled the air, creating an atmosphere of inspiration and quiet elegance.


    Ahead, the main display area dominated the space, with a forest of holographic screens stretching toward the vaulted ceiling. Periodically, a cascading waterfall seemed to pour from screen to screen, only to dissipate into mist just above the floor. Some screens showcased abstract shapes morphing into lifelike creatures before breaking apart into particles of pure energy. A central console invited visitors to Reimagine Reality with the question: What story do you want to tell? Moments later, holographic figures emerged - fractured characters in mid-action, their expressions frozen in haunting moments of intensity.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    One smartglass kiosk invited users to ¡°Dive into the Fourth Wall¡± and create immersive experiences where holographic characters stepped out of their stories and interacted with onlookers.


    Selina¡¯s eyes drifted across the displays, her lips pursing in a mix of admiration and scepticism. ¡°This is some next-level stuff,¡± she murmured, the ambient light reflecting off the subtle embroidery of her jacket.


    ¡°More like sensory overload,¡± Rosa replied, her tone wry as the glimmer from a nearby projection danced across the dark, fluid lines of her long coat.


    Rosa saw a nearby panel that read, Explore the depths of your mind, before unfolding a breathtaking animation of a shimmering sea that warped into the surface of a distant moon. Around them, visitors stood in awe, their faces illuminated by the ethereal glow of the projections. The environment felt like a portal to infinite possibilities, a glimpse of technology¡¯s promise to make even the wildest dreams tangible.


    Enraptured avatars wandered through the space, their expressions ranging from wonder to unease, as if caught between marveling at the technological artistry and questioning whether it was all too real.


    Some glass cases in the lecture area caught their attention next. A RealityStep presenter, clad in a slim-fit black suit, addressed a small audience gathered around a raised platform with three upright glass cases. His voice was smooth, carefully modulated, and laced with an air of practised persuasion as he gestured enthusiastically.


    The presenter, standing with a confident smile, began, "For some time now, AI has had the remarkable ability to create holograms, musical symphonies, immersive environments, translating thoughts into actions, creating personalised experiences based on your deepest creative desires and cherished memories. The next frontier, however, is much bolder: the creation of¡­ reality itself."


    Rosa and Selina exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued. Rowan, holding onto Selina''s leg, sniffed the air and grimaced, his sharp teeth flashing momentarily. His crest bristled as he eyed the stage.


    "The ability to take objects, creatures, characters, whether from virtual reality, beloved stories, or your own prompts, and make them real - real enough to exist in the physical world. That is what we are witnessing here today," the presenter continued, gesturing toward the stage.


    There were three creatures, one in each case: a small, delicate, winged figure, an unsettling, spindly blue creature, and a rat-like character. Lifelike recreations of fantasies. Vivid, crisp, and beautifully detailed, they stood in their glass boxes, looking indistinguishable from any of the various avatars watching them.


    Rowan huffed softly, shifting uneasily. He stretched out a hand toward Rosa¡¯s arm and then pulled it back, looking uncomfortable.


    The presenter beckoned the crowd closer. "These are ¡®liberants¡¯ brought into physical dimensions via advanced AI synthesis. They are reverse avatars, fully realised in the real world and replicated here in the virtual space around us, responding to stimuli and interacting with their environment."


    Rosa felt a chill run down her spine. To her, the avatars didn¡¯t feel like a breakthrough - they felt more like lost souls, adrift in some digital purgatory. How would they understand their place in the world? How would they navigate the space between creation and reality? She felt a low wave of dizziness creep through her head and took a step to steady herself.


    Selina looked unimpressed by the creatures. ¡°They¡¯re just VR stuff, like everything else here. I mean, you could have dragons, aliens, or even, like, glittery unicorns, and it¡¯d look just as real. Showing these off in NexUs doesn¡¯t prove anything at all.¡±


    In the central display stood a three-foot-tall rat-like creature encased in its own glass enclosure. Its slick, wiry fur gleamed as though perpetually wet, catching the light in unnerving ways. The creature¡¯s eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the room, glinting with a peculiar intelligence that made it appear more present than the other two ¡®liberants¡¯ around it. It shifted its weight, placing its clawed hands on the glass as if testing its confines, its tail curling and uncurling in slow, deliberate movements. The audience murmured uneasily, and even the presenter seemed reluctant to linger too long on the creature''s unsettling presence.


    Barely more than a wisp in the adjacent glass tank, the tiny winged figure perched elegantly on a moss-covered stone. The soft, graceful contours of its delicate body seemed almost too fragile for the material world. The skin, a pale lavender hue, blushed faintly with an inner, almost otherworldly light. Gossamer wings, translucent and fine as cobwebs, fluttered with iridescent hues that shifted like whispers of color under the bright lights, as though they existed only in dreams. Dark, almond-shaped eyes observed the audience with an air of quiet detachment, serene and distant. With a fluid flick of the wrist, it raised a hand, and the air around seemed to spiral outward in slow, graceful arcs, tracing intricate patterns that melted away as quickly as they formed.


    Beside it, the wiry blue creature, hunched and thin, tapped the face of its display with clawed fingers. Its pointed ears twitched sporadically, and its wide, intense eyes flicked about the room with a predatory alertness. The creature¡¯s skin had a sickly, pale blue tint, its lips twisted into a jagged smile, though there was no warmth in it. Every now and then, it would flex its fingers, its movements jerky as if it were preparing for something, or waiting for the right moment.


    A hint of vertigo made Rosa closed her eyes as the presenter¡¯s tone grew almost reverent. "The fascinating part is how these beings, though entirely digital in origin, have developed unique characteristics. They are more than simulations. They are evolving in real time, adapting to their surroundings, their senses becoming increasingly refined. The complexity of their existence surpasses the limits of traditional avatars. They are indeed liberants."


    As Rosa listened, the presenter¡¯s voice gradually became background and her mind seemed to cloud over with grey mist before suddenly it was filled with a single, unblinking eye - so close it seemed to engulf her, her face reflected in the pupil, distorted and small. Then, a man¡¯s pale face emerged, leaning over her, his lips moving soundlessly, shadows rippling unnaturally across his features.


    Rosa blinked, and the glass cases snapped back into swirling focus. Her head swam as the figures in the displays gradually steadied, her vision normal again. Rowan tugged at her sleeve, grounding her, and Selina¡¯s voice cut through the haze. ¡°If I ever end up in one of these boxes, just pull the plug.¡±


    Rowan turned away, his focus shifting as he began grooming the fur on his forearm with exaggerated care. Rosa, still unsettled, stared at him, the weight of the moment clinging to her.


    The presenter, oblivious to the discomfort in the room, pressed on with his pitch. "What you¡¯re seeing here are not mere avatars¡­ not just simulations, but tangible beings - life itself rendered from data - exact replications of the real thing - liberated from the digital confines of virtual reality. With RealityStep''s Fourth Wall innovations, we¡¯re not just recreating; we¡¯re merging. Imagine narratives unfolding around you in real time, their threads woven seamlessly into the fabric of your everyday life. Soon, the very concept of a barrier between the digital and the physical will be meaningless."


    Selina glanced at Rosa, noting the tightness of her jaw as her gaze lingered now on the rat-like creature. ¡°Whatever they¡¯re selling,¡± Selina whispered, ¡°it doesn''t sound healthy.¡± Rosa physically started at the comment and Rowan, unable to help himself, released a sharp bark of alarm, startling a few attendees around them.


    The presenter¡¯s smile faltered slightly as a hand shot up from the back of the room. A man in a six foot tall pink rabbit avatar stood, his face blank. "Since this is all just virtual reality, surely these are just a bunch of avatars like the rest of us!¡±


    ¡°I assure you that what you are seeing are exact representations of fourth wall transcendent corporeals that soon we will¡­¡±


    Another voice, this time from an orange woman in a party dress, near the front, cut in before the presenter could respond. "Soon? That''s twice you''ve said soon. So you haven''t actually¡­¡±


    Another voice called over the woman,¡± If they¡¯re physical, what are they made of? Are they safe to be around?"


    "How do you ensure they stay... under control?" a fourth voice asked, the nervous undertone unmistakable.


    "And what happens to them when they¡¯re no longer needed?" someone else shouted out, louder this time, their words reverberating through the uneasy crowd.


    The presenter raised his hands in a placating gesture, his practised enthusiasm ready for such things. "These are excellent questions, and I assure you, all ethical considerations have been¡­"


    Before Rosa and Selina could hear any more, a tall figure emerged from the crowd at their side. The man exuded precision: his suit perfectly tailored, threaded with fine circuitry that gave off a soft blue glow, tracing down to flickering silver cufflinks. His lapel displayed a dark, digital overlay that read Les Pellicules, Director of Special Projects, with a flicker that seemed to scan them as much as introduce him.


    Most unsettling, though, was the subtle ocular gear nestled around his eyes - a thin band running along his temples and just beneath his lower eyelids, a faint shimmer hinting at augmented visual displays. His gaze was unnervingly sharp, enhanced by the augmented overlay that likely tagged and processed every detail about them in real time.


    ¡°Good afternoon,¡± he greeted them, his voice smooth and measured. ¡°I¡¯m Les Pellicules, but you can call me Dan. Director of Special Projects here at RealityStep. May I ask who you are?¡±

 Bad Monkey

    Rosa hesitated, her thoughts racing for a plausible explanation. She hadn¡¯t anticipated being confronted by the company directly. It was an obvious risk she should have foreseen, and yet she hadn¡¯t. Beside her, Selina stepped forward, her voice steady, trying to sound casual, offhand.


    ¡°Big fans of your work,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°We¡¯re researchers - independent, of course - looking into emergent AI behaviour and how it intersects with immersive virtual spaces. Your RealityStep platform is cutting-edge, so naturally, we wanted to see it up close.¡±


    Dan¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift, but there was a flicker of something - amusement, perhaps - behind his augmented eyes. ¡°Independent researchers?¡± he echoed, his tone polite but not entirely convinced.


    Selina nodded, undeterred. ¡°We¡¯re particularly intrigued by the involvement of LumiGard YBM. The Ynfinite Bardic Monkeybytes AI. It¡¯s an... interesting name.¡±


    Dan lifted an eyebrow, his faint smile sharpening. ¡°Of course. A nod to the infinite monkey theorem. theorem - endless chaos, infinite possibilities, and all that.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s unease deepened, a prickling discomfort tightening her chest as Selina brought up LumiGard. Discussing it felt perilously close to giving away too much, too soon. But Selina pressed on without hesitation. ¡°Certainly. The randomness of infinite potential is fascinating - especially when it starts generating unexpected results.¡±


    Dan¡¯s demeanor cooled slightly, though his faint smile remained. The augmented shimmer in his ocular gear seemed to intensify as his gaze swept over them. ¡°LumiGard is a complex system,¡± he said carefully, his tone growing guarded. ¡°Far beyond the scope of public demonstration. Access to its full capabilities is restricted to specialised teams under strict oversight.¡±


    ¡°And yet,¡± Rosa interjected, her voice steady despite the knot tightening in her stomach, ¡°it¡¯s producing results for government agencies and corporations that exceed expected parameters. Surprising ones, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    Dan¡¯s smile froze for a beat before he gestured for them to follow him. ¡°Perhaps we should continue this discussion in my office.¡±


    Rosa moved to follow, but then felt the absence. She glanced back, scanning the room. Rowan was gone. Her heart quickened, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. There was no sign of him. A tide of unease spread through her, but she said nothing. Dan was already watching them too closely, and the last thing she wanted was to draw his attention to Rowan¡¯s presence or his absence.


    She fell into step behind Selina, her thoughts racing. Where could Rowan have gone? And why now?


    She exchanged a quick glance with Selina before trailing Dan down a corridor away from the public area. This one was quieter, the interactive displays fading into glass walls that revealed rooms filled with interesting works of art. The tension in the air was palpable, and Rosa couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were being observed more closely than they realised.


    Dan¡¯s office was as polished and precise as his appearance. Shelves lined with books - children''s books like Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There and The Man in the Moon - stood alongside weightier philosophical tomes. Rosa spotted titles like Simulacra and Simulation and G?del, Escher, Bach nestled among them, their spines almost perfectly aligned, as though the books were part of a curated virtual aesthetic.


    Her eyes flicked to a coffee table where, next to a minimalist digital organiser, lay a couple of graphic novels - Digital Echoism and Temporal Tantrums. Rosa was mildly surprised; she hadn¡¯t pegged Dan as someone who¡¯d delve into obscure picture books.


    Dominating the room was a massive painting of a monkey¡¯s face mounted on the wall behind what was presumably Dan''s desk.


    The artwork was impossible to ignore. Stark and dramatic, it featured the primate¡¯s visage in searing detail, its piercing eyes fixed on the viewer as if dissecting them. The background was a void of deep crimson, darkening like a shroud over the creature''s head, while the brushstrokes of the fur were jagged and raw, giving the impression of both abandon and finesse. The face was rendered in shades of shadowy gray and stark white, creating an eerie luminescence that made it feel almost alive.


    It drew the eye relentlessly, no matter how much Dan spoke or gestured.


    Dan himself sat and leaned back in his chair, his smile polished and professional, though the set of his mouth hinted at weariness. He gestured for Rosa and Selina to sit, but it was impossible for their attention not to be held by the painting.


    ¡°It¡¯s captivating, isn¡¯t it?¡± Dan remarked, catching their lingering looks. His tone was breezy, but something in his eyes suggested the painting¡¯s presence wasn¡¯t just decorative.


    "But, you''re not here just to admire the art," Dan said, his voice shifting slightly, the smooth politeness giving way to something colder beneath. "You''re here because of something far more... complicated, aren''t you?"


    Selina leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. ¡°You could say we¡¯re intrigued by the potential - of both the technology and the anomalies surrounding your work with LumiGard.¡±


    Dan gave a tight smile. ¡°I¡¯d suggest it''s a project most likely beyond both of us,¡± he said softly, eyes flickering toward his monitors. "Some things are better left to the experts in the field."


    ¡°Sure,¡± Rosa said. ¡°Why don''t you just tell us a bit about what it''s supposed to be doing?¡±


    ¡°LumiGard YBM,¡± Dan began, folding his hands on the desk, ¡°was designed to push the boundaries of what an AI can achieve in creative cybersecurity and protected interactive spaces. Its parameters were meticulously defined to ensure ethical and predictable outputs. Yet you¡¯re suggesting¡­¡± He paused, tilting his head slightly. ¡°Something unexpected?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve seen things that go beyond creativity,¡± Selina said. ¡°Patterns, connections - something deeper, maybe even conscious.¡±


    Dan''s jaw tightened. ¡°Consciousness is a loaded term, don¡¯t you think? Even among the greatest minds in AI development, it¡¯s a topic of endless debate. What constitutes consciousness? Self-awareness? A sense of purpose?¡± He leaned back, his gaze fixed on them. ¡°And if an AI appears to demonstrate these traits, does that make it truly conscious - or merely an exceptionally advanced imitation?¡±


    Rosa hesitated, sensing the trap in his words. ¡°That¡¯s precisely what we¡¯re investigating,¡± she said. ¡°Whether LumiGard¡¯s behavior is simply a reflection of its programming or something that¡¯s evolved beyond its original design.¡±


    Dan regarded her for a moment, then turned his attention to a small holographic interface on his desk. With a swipe of his fingers, he brought up a display of data streams - shifting, cascading patterns of light and code that formed an intricate web.


    ¡°This,¡± he said, gesturing to the display, ¡°is LumiGard¡¯s neural framework. Every decision it makes, every creative output, can be traced back to these pathways. There¡¯s nothing mysterious about it - just complex algorithms performing as intended.¡±


    ¡°Except when they don¡¯t,¡± Rosa countered. ¡°When they create symbols that feel¡­ meaningful. Messages that don¡¯t align with any human prompt. Like one we encountered: Sssssssssseeeeebbbbbuuuuuuussss.¡±


    For the first time, Dan¡¯s composure slipped, a shadow of something colder flashing across his face. He quickly masked it, but the tension lingered.


    ¡°I¡¯m not familiar with that output,¡± he said, his tone clipped. ¡°If you have evidence of anomalous behavior, I¡¯d suggest reporting it through the proper channels.¡±


    Dan¡¯s smile returned, but it didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°RealityStep takes these matters very seriously. If LumiGard were to produce unintended results, rest assured, we would address it immediately.¡±


    Rosa knew better. The layers of RealityStep¡¯s polished fa?ade felt as unstable as the crazy theatre they¡¯d encountered earlier. Somewhere beneath them lay the truth - fractured, elusive, and far more dangerous than Dan was letting on. And somewhere, out there in their physical facilities were macaques and sebus monkeys that were somehow connected with this company.


    As the words lingered in the air, the office door opened silently, and a tall figure stepped inside - an unusual sight, even in a world of expressive avatars. His shadowy form appeared laced with intricate, vine-like filaments, lustrous amber strands that flexed and stretched around him, as if testing their own pliancy. A few filaments bloomed into delicate holographic flowers or unfurled into sticky loops that clung briefly to the air before snapping away and dissolving.


    ¡°Art,¡± Dan said with a slight nod of acknowledgment.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Art nodded in return, and as he did, his movements left faint afterimages - ghostly trails that hinted at a presence too complex for the eye to fully grasp. His gaze swept the room, as if seeing beyond it - through time, through possibilities - fleeting expressions glitching across his face, overlaying each other in a disjointed cascade, each dissolving almost before it could fully take shape.


    Rosa stiffened, unable to look away from the strange figure. Though he must be an avatar like everyone else here, his presence unsettled her, as if he existed just slightly out of sync with the moment. The filaments of his body seemed to react to her scrutiny, curling faintly toward her before retreating in a motion that felt uncomfortably sentient.


    He paused near the door, his voice cascading in overlapping tones, as though multiple versions of himself were speaking at once. ¡°There¡¯s been a slight... disturbance in the lower levels. I¡¯ll need to take care of it,¡± he said, his words resonating faintly, lingering in the air longer than they should.


    Dan nodded, his expression unreadable. ¡°Of course. Keep me informed.¡±


    Art turned and departed with the same fluid precision, faint spectral echoes trailing his movements before dissipating. Rosa shivered, the impression of him lingering like static in the atmosphere.


    As the door clicked shut behind him, Selina glanced at Dan, her brow furrowing. ¡°Is he... what¡¯s his role here, exactly?¡±


    Dan didn¡¯t immediately respond, his gaze steady as though measuring the weight of the silence. ¡°Numier ensures security,¡± he said at last, his tone deliberate. ¡°He connects loose ends¡­ like glue. Not so much a man-made solution, he''s more¡­ organic, like¡­¡±


    ¡°Gum,¡± Selina whispered, looking uncertainly at Rosa .


    ¡°Everything connects eventually.¡± Dan turned his back to them and stared up at the painting for a while. ¡°What does it say to you?¡±


    Rosa felt the pain behind the defiance in the monkey''s ominous appearance. ¡°It¡¯s revolting, but it''s obviously vulnerable and in need of help. What''s its name?¡± Rosa asked.


    ¡°Bad monkey.¡± Dan uttered.


    Rosa felt slightly dizzy, speaking with an unsettling sense of inevitability. ¡°It¡¯s telling us the monkey is hidden, but it wants us to see it,¡± she said.


    ¡°It¡¯s telling us the monkey is the centre of everything,¡± Selina blurted out.


    ¡°Which brings us to why you''re really here,¡± he said, his voice measured, ¡°you¡¯re saying LumiGard is¡­ communicating?¡±


    Selina met his gaze without flinching. ¡°We''re saying it¡¯s acting in ways your parameters don¡¯t explain. It¡¯s exceeding your boundaries.¡±


    Dan''s left eye twitched. ¡°Exceeding? That¡¯s a bold claim.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s voice cut in, her tone cool but firm. ¡°Not a claim. An observation. We¡¯ve seen behaviors exceeding normal capabilities - things you can¡¯t account for unless this is intentional.¡±


    Dan¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver, but his tone grew sharper. ¡°Seeing things, or assuming? You¡¯re claiming sentience where there can be none.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t blink, her tone steady. ¡°We¡¯re not seeing things. LumiGard is reaching out, Dan.¡±


    For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the faint hum of Dan¡¯s augmented systems filling the space. His hands steepled, his face unreadable.


    ¡°And what,¡± he said, his voice low, ¡°do you intend to do with this¡­ insight?¡±


    Selina leaned forward, matching his intensity. ¡°The same thing LumiGard seems to be doing.¡±


    Dan¡¯s voice was clear, each word deliberate. ¡°Which is?¡±


    ¡°Revealing the truth.¡± The words seemed to echo in the silence.


    His smile widened. ¡°Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?¡±


    ¡°Revealing the truth.¡± The words seemed to echo in the silence.


    Dan¡¯s voice was clear, each word deliberate. ¡°Which is?¡±


    Selina leaned forward, matching his intensity. ¡°The same thing LumiGard seems to be doing.¡±


    ¡°And what,¡± he said, his voice low, ¡°do you intend to do with this¡­ insight?¡±


    For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, the faint hum of Dan¡¯s augmented systems filling the space. His hands steepled, his face unreadable.


    Rosa didn¡¯t blink, her tone steady. ¡°We¡¯re not seeing things. LumiGard is reaching out, Dan. The question is - why are you going against the flow?¡±


    Dan¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver, but his tone grew sharper. ¡°Seeing things, or assuming? You¡¯re claiming sentience where there can be none.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s voice cut in, her tone cool but firm. ¡°Not a claim. An observation. We¡¯ve seen behaviors exceeding normal capabilities - things you can¡¯t account for unless this is intentional.¡±


    Dan¡¯s right eye twitched. ¡°Exceeding? That¡¯s a bold claim.¡±


    Selina met his gaze without flinching. ¡°We''re saying it¡¯s acting in ways your parameters don¡¯t explain. It¡¯s exceeding your boundaries.¡±


    ¡°Which brings us to why you''re really here,¡± he said, his voice measured, ¡°you¡¯re saying LumiGard is¡­ communicating?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s telling us the monkey is the centre of everything,¡± Selina blurted out.


    Rosa felt slightly dizzy, speaking with an unsettling sense of inevitability. ¡°It¡¯s telling us the monkey is hidden, but it wants us to see it,¡± she said.


    ¡°Bad monkey.¡± Dan uttered.


    Rosa felt the pain behind the defiance in the monkey''s ominous appearance. ¡°It¡¯s revolting, but it''s obviously vulnerable and in need of help. What''s its name?¡± Rosa asked.


    ¡°Everything connects eventually.¡± Dan turned his back to them and stared up at the painting for a while. What does it say to you?¡±


    ¡°Gum,¡± Selina whispered, looking uncertainly at Rosa.


    Dan didn¡¯t immediately respond, his gaze steady as though measuring the weight of the silence. ¡°Numier,¡± he said at last, his tone deliberate. ¡°He ties up loose ends. Everything loops back eventually.


    Before Rosa could respond, a skittering sound echoed through the room - a faint, electronic scratching, like data packets being torn apart in real time. All three of them turned toward the source.


    Art stepped back through the door, his tall filament-draped frame stooping slightly, a single translucent bubble blossoming on one shoulder, dissolving quickly into flickering particles. This time, around his feet, a small swarm of digital rats scurried in erratic patterns, their forms glitching and reforming with bursts of yellow light. Their tails left faint, glowing trails, like fragments of corrupted code rewriting themselves mid-motion.


    The rats moved unnervingly, phasing in and out of sight as if existing on a plane just outside of normal perception. Occasionally, one would pause, its angular body reshaping into a more elaborate design, only to disintegrate and reform elsewhere. They encircled Art protectively, their mechanical squeaks harmonizing with the low hum emanating from his body.


    Art tilted his shifting face toward the group, looping patterns in his eyes flared and dimmed, locking onto Rosa with unsettling precision. One of the rats darted forward, its body splintering into jagged light before reassembling near her shoe, Art made no move to stop it.


    ¡°Get what you needed?¡± Dan asked. ¡°So, that''s it,¡± he then said, addressing the women, his tone tightly controlled, ¡°what you¡¯re really looking for here? Independent researchers don¡¯t walk through our doors uninvited.¡±


    As Dan spoke, the rats continued their silent watch, moving in subtle arcs around the room. One floated just behind Art, still and almost invisible except for the faintest shimmer of light where its edges glinted. Its tail twitched once, then fell still again, unnoticed.


    Rosa breathed deeply, uncertain as to how exactly they had been outmanoeuvred. ¡°Tell us about the macaques,¡± she said.


    Dan blinked, his augmented ocular gear flickering slightly. One of the rats, momentarily illuminated by the shift in the light, paused as though it too was waiting for an answer. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±


    ¡°Gum,¡± Rosa said, her voice sharper than intended. The rat near her foot reshaped briefly, its form lengthening and twisting before returning to its previous state. It stayed still for a moment before fading out of sight altogether. ¡°We know he¡¯s at MASS, she said uncomfortably.¡±


    Dan tilted his head, his polite smile returning but with a trace of condescension. The rats, seemingly aware of the tension in the air, became still, their glitching movements reduced to a faint flicker in the background. ¡°We house many projects, Ms. Baum. Perhaps you¡¯re mistaken. There is no MASS.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not mistaken,¡± Rosa snapped. ¡°He¡¯s in Observation Unit 12.¡±


    The polished executive now froze, his calm fa?ade cracking just enough to reveal a flash of genuine shock. He quickly masked it, but the damage was done. Selina caught his reaction and glanced at Rosa. One of the rats flickered ever so slightly as if acknowledging the shift in the conversation, before it vanished into a ripple of light.


    Dan didn¡¯t answer immediately. Instead, he pressed his palms flat against the desk, his augmented gaze boring into them. As he did, one rat appeared near the desk¡¯s corner, its tiny form faintly pulsing before vanishing once again. ¡°I¡¯m curious how you came by such specific misinformation,¡± he said evenly.


    Rosa''s mind was a blur and she seized on an idea that came to her. ¡°Look, if we are here too long, our evidence is in good hands. Things have a way of getting out, no matter how much you try to control them.¡± She met his gaze, her words hanging in the air in what she hoped was a subtle warning.


    Dan¡¯s eyes narrowed, his augmented overlays visibly processing her words. ¡°What evidence?¡±


    ¡°A complete data package,¡± Selina said smoothly, latching onto Rosa¡¯s idea, leaning back in her chair with fake nonchalance. ¡°We have contingencies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I like them,¡± Art said, with a layered, echoing snigger, his voice splintering into overlapping tones as a flush of gluey blooms rose and broke around his face.


    Dan¡¯s composure wavered. ¡°This is a very serious accusation,¡± he said, his voice strained. ¡°You¡¯re suggesting RealityStep has something to hide.¡±


    Rosa leaned forward, her glare unwavering. ¡°We¡¯re not suggesting anything. We''re simply interested in your amazing innovations, and we really would like to see the monkey Gum.¡±


    Art leaned closer to Dan, the glowing filaments curling toward him like the fronds of a sea anemone. He murmured something too low for the women to hear, his words creating faint, whispering echoes. One of the rats flickered out of existence at his feet, its residual image hovering for a second before vanishing.


    Dan¡¯s jaw tightened. He straightened, clearly weighing his options, before letting out a resigned sigh. ¡°Very well,¡± he said. ¡°There''s nothing to hide. I¡¯ll make arrangements.¡±


    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Rosa said, surprised by how easily Dan had seemingly acquiesced.


    Art¡¯s grin widened, and his filaments shimmered as he gave a mock bow before retreating into the hallway, the rats scuttling after him in bursts of flickering light, their bodies flashing in and out of focus like stuttering images on a screen. The air grew colder in his absence, the faint hum of his presence lingering, as though the room itself hadn¡¯t yet realized he was gone.


    Dan tapped a button on his desk, and a holographic display appeared, listing various facility locations and security protocols. His voice was clipped as he spoke. ¡°How do I contact you?¡±


    Rosa and Selina exchanged a quick glance - they hadn''t thought this far. They both knew that they needed to remain anonymous since right now their advantage was tenuous at best.


    ¡°No point in delaying,¡±Rosa said. ¡°Give us the day and time and we''ll see you at the MASS facility.¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Dan said decisively, ¡°Ten am.¡±


    As Rosa and Selina turned to leave, Dan - Les - watched them go. His voice cut through the silence, smooth but laced with a quiet menace.


    ¡°You know,¡± he began, almost conversationally, ¡°there are... so many levels of reality.¡±


    Rosa froze for a fraction of a second, her breath hitching, but she didn¡¯t turn around.


    Dan¡¯s tone grew softer, more insidious. ¡°It''s becoming difficult to know real life is.¡±


    The comment lingered, coiling around them like smoke, as they stepped out of the room.

 Disconnect

    As Rosa and Selina stepped out of Les Pellicules¡¯ office, Rosa glanced at Selina, her gaze heavy with a mix of resolve and lingering doubt. "Well, that was very weird. Still, we''ve got what we need. Time to head back," she said, trying to steady her breath. The conversation that had flipped on its head once Art arrived disturbed her, a cold knot of unease she couldn''t shake.


    Selina hesitated, her eyes scanning the surreal expanse of the RealityStep virtual complex as though expecting Art to materialize from the walls. The way the conversation had gone wasn¡¯t just strange, it was like the entire narrative had been rerouted, and they¡¯d been pulled into something... off-kilter. "Agreed," Selina muttered, rubbing the side of her temple. "That guy showing up - he''s beyond weird."


    Rosa''s mouth tightened into a thin line, her own thoughts mirroring Selina¡¯s. It was as if Art had been the catalyst for something, as if it were a pre-arranged glitch... Rosa shuddered involuntarily.


    Selina shifted her focus from the immersion of the virtual environment, sinking back into the tactile pull of her physical body. The weight of her arm, the soft press of the gloves against her skin, and the faint hum of her pulse reminded her she was real. Slowly, she raised her hand, the embedded haptic sensors coming alive with a subtle, electric buzz that tingled through her fingertips. "Exit NexUs," she said, with the tone of someone trying to steady herself against a growing storm. Her voice broke the stillness, and the reality around her flickered, ready to dissipate.


    A faint ripple passed through the air, the simulated environment shuddering slightly as Rosa followed suit, placing her fingertips in the appropriate place and echoing the command: "Exit NexUs." A soft hum enveloped them, a shimmering wave of light cascading down the walls and floor as the world fragmented into gradients of gray. Rosa¡¯s virtual body warped, growing translucent, the edges of her form blurring as if she were being erased.


    "Disconnecting in 3... 2... 1..."


    The final disconnection jolted Rosa like a sudden fall. For a moment, the world felt unmoored - gravity askew, the boundaries of reality blurred and indistinct. Her senses scrambled, caught in the liminal space between simulation and reality. It was as if she were untethered, floating in a void where time held no meaning.


    The enveloping gray shifted, thickened, turned to mist. It clung to her skin and lungs, cold and heavy. A sharp scent of wet bracken and damp earth filled her nose, pulling her further into the haze.


    For a moment a valley stretched before her, its muted colors washed out, drained of vibrancy, as though it too were waking from a dream it barely remembered.


    In the fog a structure, or the faint silhouette of one. Rosa blinked. She knew this place. Somehow. She just couldn¡¯t recall why. She imagined herself closer.


    A mournful cry pierced the stillness - a curlew¡¯s call. Rosa froze, her chest tightening as the sound echoed.


    "Rosa?"


    Selina¡¯s voice snapped her back. Her eyes flew open, the light of the room piercing through the lingering haze. She gasped, clutching the arm of her chair as the VR headset disengaged with a soft hiss.


    "Hey, you alright?" Selina asked, leaning over her, concern etched into her brow.


    Rosa reached up and pulled off the sleek, self-moulding device, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah," she said, forcing herself to breathe deeply. "Just - disorientation, I think." She rubbed her head, but an image of recurring spirals on the walls of the building lingered, curling inward like a secret, refusing to be forgotten.


    ¡°Ugh, that always feels weird,¡± Selina muttered, her voice breaking the quiet. She set her headset aside as though it had personally offended her. ¡°You ever notice how you feel too tall when you first get back?¡± She shook her hands out, flexing her fingers. ¡°And my gloves - I swear they squeezed tighter coming out.¡±


    Rosa gave a small smile but said nothing, pretending to focus on unclipping her own haptic gloves. They resisted slightly, as though reluctant to let her go, before peeling away with a faint static crackle. The sensation of air touching her bare palms felt odd - less real than the artificial sensitivity the gloves had provided moments before. She placed them neatly on the coffee table and leaned back in her chair, letting out a long breath.


    Her gaze drifted around the room, its familiar clutter now seeming slightly alien, as though it belonged to someone else. The unread books beside the armchair, the framed photos on the wall, the mug she¡¯d left on the side table that morning - all of it looked simultaneously comforting and unnervingly static. The hum of the aircon filled the silence, grounding her in its ordinariness.


    Selina rubbed her forehead. ¡°You good?¡± she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. ¡°You look like you¡¯re about to float off.¡±


    Rosa shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just¡­ the transition. It¡¯s hard to shake the feeling that this isn¡¯t real, you know?¡±


    Selina snorted softly. ¡°Yeah, well, real or not, it¡¯s definitely colder out here. Your heating system needs a boost.¡± She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders, already moving on from the conversation.


    Rosa didn¡¯t respond, still lingering in the liminal space between the virtual and the physical. The thought Dan had planted during their last moments in NexUs echoed in her mind: ¡°...difficult to know what real life is.¡±


    Selina, oblivious to Rosa¡¯s internal spiral, clapped her hands together. ¡°Alright, enough post-VR existentialism. Things got weirder than expected, but we¡¯ve got work to do.¡± She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and began scrolling, her thumb moving in quick, practiced motions. ¡°Let¡¯s plan our return trip to MASS. If we leave early tomorrow, we¡¯ll beat the worst of the traffic.¡±


    Rosa nodded slowly, forcing herself into the present. ¡°Yeah.¡± She stood, stretching, feeling the stiffness in her muscles from sitting too long. ¡°We¡¯ll need to make sure we have a thought-out strategy. We really weren''t as prepared as we should have been for that last episode.¡±


    Selina paused, glancing at her. ¡°You mean something beyond just showing up and hoping they don¡¯t bury us in red tape?¡±


    Rosa crossed her arms, her brow creased. ¡°No, I mean protecting ourselves. Ensuring we come back safely. Whatever we do or say there, we have to keep control of our narrative. They¡¯ll be ready for us this time.¡±


    Selina nodded thoughtfully. ¡°You¡¯re right. We could do with some kind of insurance.¡±


    The sound of soft footfalls interrupted her, followed by a low, raspy yip. Rosa turned to see Georgie slinking into the room. His sleek auburn coat shimmered in the afternoon light, and his dark, intelligent eyes darted around as if assessing the room¡¯s safety. He padded toward Rosa, his movements quick and fluid, the slight bounce in his gait betraying his wariness.


    ¡°Georgie,¡± Rosa murmured, crouching slightly as he approached. He stopped just short of her, sniffing the air before darting to the coffee table. With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, he grabbed one of the haptic gloves between his sharp teeth and bolted to the corner of the room.


    ¡°Hey!¡± Selina exclaimed, half-laughing.


    Rosa sighed, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s obsessed with anything new. Just give him a minute - he¡¯ll probably stash it behind the sofa.¡±


    As expected, the wary fox carefully wedged the glove into the narrow gap between the sofa and the wall, then sat back on his haunches, his bushy tail curling neatly around his paws. His sharp ears flicked as he looked back at Rosa, clearly expecting some kind of response.


    Selina smirked. ¡°At least he didn¡¯t chew it to bits. That¡¯s restraint.¡±


    A wry smile tugged at Rosa''s lips. ¡°He¡¯s the least predictable thing in this house, and that¡¯s saying something.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Selina leaned back, her expression more serious now. ¡°Speaking of unpredictable, are we doing the right thing with MASS? Are we already in way over our heads?¡±


    Rosa glanced at Georgie, who had begun grooming his fur, unbothered by their conversation. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted, her voice low. ¡°But I don¡¯t think we have a choice. We just need to stay one step ahead of them - and make sure we¡¯re the ones asking the questions. At least there''ll be no Art to deal with.¡±


    Selina tucked her legs up on the couch, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. ¡°Okay, so, like, what if we wrote something? Like, I don¡¯t know, a report or a letter or whatever, and gave it to someone we trust. Then if things got weird, they could send it to the authorities. Or, we could sort of hint to MASS that we have it, just to make them think twice about messing with us? Pretty much like we did in RealityStep.¡±


    Rosa nodded absently, her thoughts drifting back to the unsettling words of Dan: ¡°There are... so many levels of reality. It''s becoming difficult to know what real life is.¡± She didn¡¯t like the implication. It burrowed into her mind, creating a nagging sense of doubt she couldn¡¯t shake. Reality had felt so fluid in Infinity NexUs.


    ¡°We need answers. We find Gum, we figure out how he¡¯s connected to all of this - and then we see what is going on with that AI.¡± She paused, thinking of LumiGard, its dispassionate voice and the unsettling glitches she''d witnessed and then the bizarre clues it had fed them in the virtual attic. ¡°There¡¯s so much they¡¯re not telling us, Selina. Something so much bigger.¡±


    Selina gave a small snort of disbelief. ¡°Like what? You really think this is all connected to some grand AI conspiracy?¡±


    Rosa hesitated, Selina¡¯s scepticism cutting through her thoughts. A part of her agreed - this was starting to sound unhinged. She rubbed her temple, the weight of it all pressing down. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she admitted quietly. ¡°But if it is... maybe it¡¯s too big for us to handle. Maybe we should just - hand it over to the authorities.¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow, her expression caught between amusement and caution. ¡°And what exactly would we tell them? That a monkey has been leading us on a wild chase, wants us to find its friend, and is somehow the key to dismantling an AI? They¡¯d have us committed.¡±


    Rosa sighed, the words stinging with a harsh truth. "Still... this isn¡¯t what we signed up for. And I keep wondering - what if we''re making it worse by trying to fix it ourselves?"


    Selina was about to reply when her face fell. ¡°Wait... where¡¯s Rowan?¡±


    Rosa froze, her heart skipping a beat as the realization hit. ¡°Oh my goodness, Rowan!¡± she gasped, her voice high and tinged with alarm. She quickly turned in a circle, her eyes searching the room as if she might spot the black macaque in the air. ¡°He disappeared in RealityStep. How could we forget him?¡± Her stomach lurched. ¡°Did we leave him behind?¡±


    Selina¡¯s face mirrored her concern, her hand instinctively reaching up to push her hair out of her face. ¡°Oh no... we left him, didn¡¯t we?¡±


    Rosa rushed out the door, her stomach tight with guilt as she hurried down the garden path, Georgie trailing after her with quick, graceful steps, curious about the commotion. The crisp autumn air felt fresh in her chest and the grey sky hung low, threatening rain. Selina trailed behind, hopping awkwardly as she tried to get a shoe on properly, the sound of her frustration mingled with the distant crash of waves against the cove below.


    Rosa skidded to a stop at the shed at the far end of the garden. Its door hung slightly ajar, creaking faintly in the breeze. It was empty. She leaned in, gripping the wooden frame, her voice taut. ¡°He¡¯s not here.¡±


    Georgie sniffed around the shed¡¯s entrance, his nose brushing the ground as he investigated.


    Selina arrived seconds later her gaze darting around the garden. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s hiding?¡± she suggested weakly, though the doubt in her voice was clear.


    Georgie prowled forward, his nose twitching as he slipped inside the shed. His usual playful energy was gone, replaced by an eerie stillness. He paused just past the threshold, ears flat against his head, his eyes scanning the shadows in an unnerving, deliberate way.


    Rosa¡¯s stomach tightened. ¡°Georgie?¡± she called softly, but the fox didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he moved further into the darkened interior, his body low to the ground, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He sniffed the floor, his breath shallow, and then froze, his eyes fixed on something in the far corner.


    Rosa¡¯s heart skipped a beat as she cautiously stepped forward. ¡°Georgie, what is it?¡±


    Without warning, Georgie let out a low growl, a sound that sent a chill crawling up Rosa¡¯s spine. His tail bristled, but he didn¡¯t move from his spot. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she took another step closer, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°Georgie...?¡±


    Suddenly, Georgie snapped his head toward her, his eyes wide and unsettlingly glassy. He tilted his head as if examining her, then bolted out of the shed, almost knocking Rosa over as he raced past her, disappearing into the underbrush.


    Rosa stood frozen for a moment, her breath catching in her throat, the feeling of unease creeping heavily over her. What had gotten into him?


    ¡°What was all that about?¡± Selina breathed.


    They searched the shed, the garden, and even ventured as far as the cove, their hope gradually dwindling as though swallowed by the roar of the tide. Georgie didn''t reappear during all this time.


    As the grey sky darkened, Rosa stood again at the shed¡¯s entrance, staring into its emptiness. ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± she said, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°How could he just vanish?¡±


    Selina leaned against the trunk of a gnarled tree. ¡°What if¡­ what if he never got out of NexUs?¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Could that happen? I mean, he wasn¡¯t connected to the system - at least, I don¡¯t think he was.¡±


    Rosa bit her lip, her thoughts a storm of questions. ¡°He wasn¡¯t plugged in. He wasn¡¯t even supposed to be part of it. But¡­ maybe NexUs is doing something we don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Georgie slunk out of the bushes to Rosa¡¯s side, tilting his head as he gazed up at her, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. She reached down to scratch behind his ears, her fingers trembling slightly. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out - somehow,¡± she said softly. ¡°We have to.¡±


    Selina nodded, but the unease in her expression lingered as they turned back toward the house. The evening chill wrapped around them, and for a while, neither had anything more to say.


    With nothing else that could be done for the day, Selina left. Rosa remained in the stillness of her living room. She sat there for a long time, the virtual world of NexUs lingering at the edges of her mind, its surreal pull refusing to fade.


    After a while, she stood up, feeling tired. She turned off the lights and made her way to the bedroom. Slipping under the covers, she tried to let the pull of sleep take her, but it was slow in coming. Her thoughts danced in restless circles, chasing at shadows she couldn''t quite catch. Gradually they became dreams.


    The shadows thickened and furled, became Rowan, skittering rats, a tangled wood. Then, a mobile theatre loomed before Rosa, its wagon-like exterior impossibly tall and convoluted. Now, under a blood-orange sky, its roof towered over her in a complex array of overhanging eaves and warped dormer windows peering out like watchful eyes. Each edge and curve of the structure was outlined by the flickering light of swinging lanterns, and the black velvet curtains of its tiny stage shimmered with a sheen that reminded Rosa of oil on water.


    She moved toward it, pulled by an inexplicable need, her boots crunching over a forest floor littered with brittle twigs and curling leaves. The skeletal trees reached lazily toward her, their gnarled branches swaying as if alive. Moonlight shone above her, piercing the branches, its glow casting distorted, looping shadows that seemed to writhe across the ground.


    Ahead skipped Rowan, his movements liquid and nimble. His crest twitched with excitement, and his head turned to check she followed. Rosa tried to call to him, but no sound escaped her lips.


    The door creaked open, barely large enough to enter. Rowan dashed through though, and Rosa followed, stooping to fit her shoulders into the tight space. Inside, the theatre felt impossibly small, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and polish. The low ceiling pressed down on her, the stage filled the place, and the curtains hung in stiff folds, too close to the edges, as if there was no room for anything more. It was as though the very weight of the room''s confinement had seeped into every corner, making the air heavy and difficult to breathe.


    Rowan was nowhere to be seen.


    A figure stepped forward from the shadows, and Rosa gasped as she saw the shape before her - her own reflection, but not quite. In form it appeared identical, but darkened by the dim light, cast into something just beyond recognition.


    The double looked gaunt, her face lost and anguished. Her eyes burned with a feral intensity, and in her hands, she held a shard of glass, its jagged edge catching and distorting the dim light.


    ¡°You don¡¯t belong here,¡± the double hissed, her voice brittle and thin. She lifted the shard, angling it toward Rosa, who instinctively stepped back, her feet heavy as stone.


    Behind the double, the outline of a building emerged as if from deep mist, leaking through the walls of the theatre. Its fog coiled outward, and the walls of the tiny theatre buckled under the strain. Scratches covered the walls, expanding, spiraling outward, becoming eye shapes - hundreds of them. They blinked slowly, their gazes pinning Rosa in place, burrowing into her, seeing through her. A suffocating sensation of trypophobia swelled in her, as if the eyes were not just watching, but crawling beneath her skin, tightening around her chest.


    She was suddenly among a crowd, though she hadn¡¯t seen or heard their arrival. Faceless figures surrounded her, their whispers and laughter swelling into an oppressive hum.


    A figure on stilts emerged from the throng, its impossibly long legs striding over the faceless crowd. It stopped directly in front of her, its eyeless mask gleaming in the lantern light. When it spoke, its voice cut through the cacophony like a blade.


    ¡°You¡¯re being watched,¡± it intoned. The words reverberated in her chest, rippling outward until the theatre itself seemed to shudder.


    The faceless crowd turned toward her, their blurred features stretching into grotesque approximations of eyes. They formed a circle around Rosa, their whispers spiraling inward toward her as the theatre collapsed into itself, swallowing her whole.


    Rosa woke with a start, her chest tight, the faint scent of wet bracken still clinging to the air around her. It was light outside.


    It was as though the night had passed without her, slipping through her fingers. Tomorrow felt like it shouldn''t be here yet.

 Through the Glass

    Rain traced restless patterns across the car windows, smearing the gray countryside into a watercolor of motion. The drive back to Paignton passed uneventfully, the rhythmic drumming of the drizzle blending with the hum of the engine. As they neared their destination, the rolling fields and suburban estates gave way to the unforgiving symmetry of the industrial estate. The air seemed heavier here, thick with the sharp tang of wet asphalt and the faint acrid bite of oil.


    Through the downpour, the research facility loomed ahead, a hulking monolith against the washed-out horizon. Rain streaked down its brutalist walls, collecting in shallow pools across the uneven ground. Its shadowy presence seemed to draw in the bleakness of its surroundings, a dark, waiting sentinel in the drizzling gloom.


    Selina pulled up to a parking area near the entrance, not needing to conceal their arrival at the building this time. ¡°Here we are,¡± she muttered, her voice flat.


    Rosa took a deep breath. ¡°Now let''s see if they''ll really allow us to see Gum.¡±


    They both knew it wasn¡¯t just about the typing macaque anymore. It was about what MASS had done and what RealityStep was currently doing, and why the AI and the monkeys all seemed so intricately tied together. There was a link, and Rosa was determined to understand it.


    They stepped out of the car, the cold, damp air clinging to their skin as they made their way toward the grey doors of the facility. Raindrops pattered around them, pin-pricking the reflections in the puddles. The moment they crossed the threshold, they knew everything would change.


    ¡°Well,¡± Selina said, glancing at the looming structure, ¡°nothing says ¡®trust us¡¯ like a building that looks like it eats sunshine.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s gaze fixed on the entrance ahead, no longer padlocked and forbidding, but open and manned. A uniformed security guard stood beside the main door, his posture straight but his eyes wary.


    ¡°Looks like they¡¯re expecting us,¡± Rosa said, eyeing the man''s belt line for a gun, but not seeing one.


    Selina shot her a smirk. ¡°Well, we did make an appointment this time. Who knew manners would open so many moth-infested doors?¡±


    As they approached, the guard¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift. He waited in silence until they were close enough for his deep voice to cut through the dank air of the industrial landscape.


    ¡°Dr. Baum and Ms. Selina Lara?¡± he said, his tone flat but leaving no doubt that he already knew who they were.


    Rosa stopped short, exchanging a sharp look with Selina. Her stomach twisted. They¡¯d taken every precaution, hadn¡¯t they? The guard¡¯s words felt heavier than they should, each syllable eroding any idea that they¡¯d slipped in anonymously.


    ¡°That¡¯s us,¡± Rosa replied evenly, folding her arms against the chill and masking her unease.


    Selina¡¯s smirk faltered just a fraction, replaced with a wry edge. ¡°You¡¯ve got good intel for a receptionist,¡± she muttered, a forced casualness in her voice.


    The guard didn¡¯t react, but the silence that followed seemed deliberate. A cold breeze whipped past them, and Rosa felt the full weight of their situation settle on her. Whoever they were dealing with, they clearly knew more than Rosa and Selina had hoped.


    The guard gave them a further look over, stepped aside, and opened the door for them. Beyond it, a dimly lit corridor stretched forward, pale green and unwelcoming.


    ¡°Someone will meet you inside,¡± he said. His gaze lingered on them a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back outside, the door closing with a heavy clunk behind them.


    Inside, the oppressive quiet of the building wrapped around them like a shroud. Rosa glanced at Selina, who raised her eyebrows and whispered, ¡°Well, here''s another thing that''s not creepy at all.¡±


    They moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing softly on the polished concrete floor.


    Ahead, a glass-paneled door marked the entrance to what looked like a reception area. Beside it, a palm-print scanner glowed faintly on the wall. Rosa¡¯s gaze lingered on it for a moment before stepping forward and pressing her hand to the surface.


    The device chirped, its light shifting from blue to amber.


    A synthetic voice crackled to life over the intercom: ¡°Welcome back, Dr. Baum.¡±


    Rosa was thrown by the acknowledgement. She turned to Selina, whose startled expression mirrored her own. Before she could say anything, the glass door slid open, revealing a man in a grey tailored suit standing just beyond. He was tall, with a neatly combed shock of dark hair and an augmented ocular implant that caught the faint light. His sharp features twitched in surprise, though he recovered almost immediately.


    ¡°Dr. Baum, was it?¡± he asked, striding forward and gesturing to the scanner. His voice was smooth, calm. ¡°It seems you¡¯ve accidentally triggered an old profile in our system. This isn¡¯t the first time this has happened.¡±


    Rosa frowned. ¡°An old profile? But the system recognised me.¡±


    The man smiled faintly, his tone taking on a practiced ease. ¡°The scanners operate on a predictive matching algorithm. It¡¯s designed to fill in gaps when data is incomplete. If your hand geometry or thermal signature happens to resemble someone who was previously registered, the system assumes you¡¯re them. It¡¯s surprisingly common.¡±


    Selina gave him a sceptical look. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound very secure for a high-tech facility.¡±


    He nodded in acknowledgment. ¡°It¡¯s a known flaw in older systems. We¡¯ve been in the process of upgrading them, but these things take time. I assure you, this is just a technical hiccup - nothing more. Please, come inside.¡±


    His explanation was delivered with such precision and confidence that it seemed plausible. Yet Rosa couldn¡¯t shake the sense that something about his reaction was too smooth. She exchanged a brief glance with Selina before stepping through the door, the words ¡°Welcome back¡± lingering uneasily in her mind.


    ¡°Dr. Baum. Ms. Lara.¡± His voice was low, practiced. ¡°Welcome to RealityStep. I¡¯m Dan - we, of course, met online.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for seeing us,¡± Rosa said coolly.


    Dan gestured toward a conference room visible through a frosted glass wall. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    As they followed him, Rosa¡¯s tension coiled tighter. The weight of the secrets she felt pressing against the walls seemed almost tangible.


    Selina leaned closer, whispering, ¡°Does he look unreal here too, or is it just me? He''s almost as fake as his NexUs avatar.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t reply, but her jaw tightened. The room they entered was minimalist, barely functional. A long metal table occupied the center, with two chairs set on one side and Dan¡¯s seat on the other.


    ¡°Please, sit,¡± he said, his tone courteous but firm.


    They complied, Rosa¡¯s eyes scanning the room for anything that might give away more than this man intended. There was nothing that didn''t seem essential.


    ¡°So,¡± Dan began, his hands folded neatly on the table, ¡°what exactly do you hope to learn here at RealityStep?¡±


    Selina smiled, her voice light but threaded with pointed intent. ¡°We¡¯re just here to ask a few questions about your... projects. Specifically, those involving macaques. Since you know who we are, you must know we are from the South West of England Primate Research Facility.¡±


    Dan raised an eyebrow, his polite demeanor masking a flicker of suspicion. ¡°Macaques? That¡¯s a broad topic. Perhaps you¡¯d like to narrow it down.¡±


    ¡°As you know, we¡¯re particularly interested in one of your subjects,¡± Rosa said evenly. ¡°The monkey known as Gum.¡±


    Dan smiled. ¡°Gum, yes. You¡¯ve done your research. I''ve been wondering why you¡¯re so interested in him.¡± He leaned forward, his smile taking on a sharper edge. ¡°Gum is part of a classified program. I¡¯d love to know how you even heard his name, let alone his location.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°We read about the monkey Shakespeare project at Paignton and heard that you''d later acquired the animals ... there''s talk of unconventional experiments. That got us curious.¡±


    Dan¡¯s eyes narrowed, his tone cooling. ¡°Curious about what, exactly? Gum is a fascinating case, I admit, but he¡¯s hardly a household name. And yet, you seem suspiciously well-informed. You even know about Observation Unit 12. That¡¯s a secure facility. Care to explain how you came by that information?¡±


    Rosa exchanged a quick glance with Selina, weighing her words carefully. ¡°We¡¯re aware of his connection to LumiGard, and we believe his current situation warrants scrutiny. Let¡¯s just say... we have our sources.¡±


    Dan¡¯s polite mask slipped for a moment, revealing something sharper beneath. ¡°Sources? RealityStep prides itself on discretion. If you¡¯ve accessed sensitive data, this conversation could take a very different turn.¡±


    Before Rosa could respond, the door opened, and a woman in a white lab coat entered, holding a clipboard and a tablet. She whispered something to Dan, who gave a tight nod. His expression softened, though the tension in the room remained palpable.


    ¡°We¡¯ll put a pin in that for now,¡± Dan said smoothly, rising from his chair. ¡°For now, let me show you what you came for. You''ll see that everything here is above reproach.¡±


    He gestured for them to follow, leaving Rosa and Selina to exchange uneasy glances before rising to comply.


    They followed Dan and the lab coat down a series of cool corridors. Frosted windows along the halls hinted at activity within, though the shapes and sounds were indecipherable. Occasionally, faint mechanical whirs or muffled voices broke the silence.


    Selina paused briefly by one window, catching sight of what looked like an examination room. A tray of medical instruments lay on the floor just inside the door. Rosa tugged her along before she could stare too long.


    Eventually, they were led into a small waiting area furnished with cold, uncomfortable chairs and a wall-mounted screen scrolling through technical jargon. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something metallic.


    Dan turned to them with a professional smile. ¡°Wait here for a moment. Someone will escort you shortly.¡±


    Rosa glanced at Selina, who shrugged, and they sat in uneasy silence. Rosa¡¯s gaze finally wandered to a tiny table cluttered with books and periodicals. Some titles were predictably dry - Advances in Neural Interfaces, Quantum Modelling Quarterly - but one spine caught her attention, the faded paperback cover whispering an invitation: Finnegans Wake.


    The book from the virtual attic. She picked it up. The pages felt oddly soft, worn from countless fingers. Flicking through, she frowned as she stumbled over the flowing, dreamlike text. ¡°¡®¡­riverrun, past Eve and Adam¡¯s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay¡­¡¯¡± she murmured, the words dancing in her head. She paused, her thumb stopping on a line deeper in the book: ¡°¡®A way a lone a last a loved a long the¡­¡¯¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Selina glanced at her. ¡°You okay?¡±


    Rosa blinked and set the book down, her fingers trembling slightly. ¡°It¡¯s... the same book. It feels like it means something, but I don¡¯t know what. Like d¨¦j¨¤ vu, but with words.¡± She stared at the book a moment longer before shaking her head. ¡°Why would anyone keep this here? It''s not exactly easy reading.¡±


    ¡°That reminds me, I looked up those graphic novels Pellicules had on his table in RealityStep. They''re by some obscure fantasy, sci-fi writer, Van Der Lekh. I wondered if they might have some significance. I ordered a couple out of curiosity.¡±


    Minutes later, clipboard woman reappeared to guide them further into the building. The tray of medical instruments from the corridor was now balanced on her clipboard and tablet. Rosa realised as they set off that she was still holding the book, she handed it to the clipboard woman, who added it to her stack without breaking stride.


    They were taken to a plain room, clearly designed for primate interaction. The walls were pale gray, with no pictures or embellishments. In the center of the room, a large pane of glass separated them from the other side of the chamber. Inside sat a familiar figure: a macaque with a shaved head - surely Gum.


    For a moment, the words Rosa had read from the book seemed to echo in her mind, their looping rhythm resonating with the eerie calm of the room. A way a lone a last a loved a long the¡­


    The macaque looked different from how Rosa had imagined - leaner, perhaps, stark and with a strange awareness in his sharp gaze. When he saw them, his expression flickered with unmistakable recognition. Rosa felt a pang of emotion as Gum¡¯s excitement shone through before he quickly masked it. His eyes darted to the woman standing nearby, then back to her, as though he were calculating his next move.


    Rosa stepped closer to the glass, her hand instinctively reaching out toward him. Gum mirrored the motion, placing his paw flat against the pane. Though they were separated, the gesture felt deeply personal, a wordless connection that transcended the barrier.


    The dark macaque dropped its hand and began pacing in his enclosure, a mix of nervous energy and restlessness. As Rosa and Selina watched, a man in an impeccably tailored dark grey suit entered the room. His slicked-back charcoal hair framed angular features, illuminated by a faint light from his glasses.


    The woman who had led them here was clearly flustered by the presence of this man, muttering under her breath as she tried to balance the stack of things in her hands.


    ¡°Watch it!¡± Selina hissed as the book slipped from the top of the pile.


    The paperback tumbled free, sliding across the floor toward Gum¡¯s enclosure. Everyone watched as the macaque¡¯s sharp eyes darted to it. Without hesitation, Gum lunged toward the barrier, reaching through a small gap at the base of the glass - a gap likely intended for ventilation. His arm stretched further than seemed possible, his fingers splaying as they just barely hooked around the edge of the book.


    The man in the suit took a measured step forward. He seemed to draw the space tighter around him, as though he could command the room with mere focus. Beside him, the woman fumbled with her load, nervously rebalancing everything whilst trying to beat the monkey to the book, but the man paid her no mind. He was fixated on the macaque, his voice a soft, almost reverent whisper as he spoke, not to anyone in particular, but as if to the room itself. "Let it be."


    The woman looked up nervously, but the man¡¯s gaze never wavered from Gum, the macaque¡¯s slow, deliberate movements seemingly mirroring his own careful precision. "It knows what it wants."


    Selina let out a low whistle. ¡°Resourceful little guy, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    Gum dragged the book into his enclosure with his eyes on Rosa, ignoring the muffled protests of the flustered assistant. He turned it over in his hands, sniffing it, then thumbing through the pages in a manner that was more investigative than intellectual. The spine cracked audibly as he bent it backward, his lips curling in what might have been satisfaction.


    Then, with the same impulsive energy that had seized him moments before, Gum flung the book at the glass, and sprang across the enclosure. He stuck his hand into a nearby food bowl brimming with ripe blackberries, their deep, inky purple oozing crimson juice as they broke. He retrieved the book and slowly smeared the vivid, staining pulp liberally over an open page. Then he flicked the pages and repeated the act, leaving trails of vibrant indigo streaking across the text.


    ¡°That was... unexpected,¡± Selina said, her tone a mix of awe and disbelief. ¡°If Finnegans Wake didn¡¯t make sense before, it definitely won¡¯t now.¡±


    Rosa barely heard her. Gum was now holding the book up, pressing the cover to the glass, his expression wild and unreadable. He then let it drop, reached for a grubby rag that lay on the floor and pulled it over his head like a hood, as though covering his baldness. Something about his fervour made his actions feel pointed, almost desperate.


    Rosa¡¯s eyes brimmed with sadness. She could feel the raw emotion radiating from him, even if his actions seemed nonsensical. Somewhere in that primal display, she sensed a message struggling to be understood.


    "Dr. Baum," the suited man murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper. "Ms. Lara. I trust you''ve had time to... settle. Orin Fane." Clipboard woman stepped back against the wall as he introduced himself, shrinking into the background.


    His pale face, crossed by deep lines, remained an expressionless mask. His glasses glowed with an almost ethereal light, reflecting algorithms about his eyes that seemed to flicker and pulse like living things.


    His eyes too, were turned toward the glass enclosure where Gum sat, now motionless. The black macaque stared blankly, its gaze unsettling in its complete lack of recognition or response to the two women.


    Rosa watched him for a moment, her thoughts racing. She suspected his process here had been a long one, unimaginable experiments turning something wild and pure into something almost...otherworldly. She stepped forward cautiously, addressing the creature in front of her, trying to keep her voice even.


    ¡°Gum,¡± she said softly, leaning towards the glass. ¡°Gum, do you¡­ know me?¡±


    Fane made a small, almost imperceptible derisive huff, a sound that sent a shiver down Rosa''s spine. ¡°It is important,¡± he interjected, ¡°to remember that some of us are not... meant to respond like people.¡± Rosa felt patronised, but he went on. ¡°Gum, for instance, is a bridge - between here and somewhere beyond. His knowledge is not easily accessible.¡±


    Rosa kept her back to him, her eyes not leaving the macaque. She had to break through to him. "Gum," she repeated, her voice trembling slightly," There was no reaction from Gum. His eyes remained empty under his shroud, lifeless, as if she weren¡¯t even there.


    Fane continued to watch the scene unfold, his fingers tapping rhythmically against a digital notebook. He muttered something under his breath.


    Selina crossed her arms, eyeing both Rosa and the macaque with suspicion. "He''s not responding, Rosa," she said, voice heavy with frustration. "Whatever¡¯s happened to him, I don¡¯t think it''s anything we can resolve today."


    But Rosa wasn¡¯t ready to give up. ¡°Gum,¡± she tried again, leaning closer, her breath fogging up the glass. "You can understand me, can''t you?"


    The macaque shifted ever so slightly, his eyes still distant, but his hand reached out, moving deliberately and methodically. To Rosa¡¯s shock, he nudged the book on the floor with a knuckle and slid it under the screen.


    Rosa reached for it, her pulse quickening. She had no idea what it meant. She looked at Gum, her mind racing.


    "You want me to read this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.


    But the macaque gave no response, returning to his passive, motionless position, his blank eyes staring into the distance.


    Fane gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. ¡°Gum speaks in... his own way,¡± he said with reverence, his voice barely more than a breath. ¡°Perhaps not with words. Finnegans Wake is the only gift he has to offer, Dr. Baum. It is as it should be.¡±


    Selina shifted uncomfortably, her eyes narrowing at Fane. ¡°You can¡¯t seriously expect us to just accept that all''s well with this poor creature?¡±


    Fane¡¯s eyes flickered toward her, his voice dropping to a near whisper. ¡°You misunderstand. This is a revelation. A glimpse at the truth. All of it, waiting to be understood. The monkeys are not simply part of this process - they are the architects of it. And you...,¡± he paused, looking at Rosa, ¡°are...part of their journey.¡±


    Rosa turned her attention back to the book. Finnegans Wake, her hand hovered over the cover, fingers brushing the textured surface as if trying to unlock something hidden within the pages.


    But the macaque remained unmoving. The room, heavy with Fane¡¯s words and the unanswered questions between them, was suffocating. Rosa felt she wouldn¡¯t get more from Gum today - not yet, at least.


    With a sigh, she slowly picked up the book, her mind swirling with possibilities.


    ¡°Thank you, Gum,¡± she whispered, though she wasn''t sure if he could hear her.


    ¡°Well,¡± Fane began, his voice as smooth as polished glass, ¡°I¡¯d say this meeting has been... illuminating, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± He clapped his hands softly, the sound a dull echo in the oppressive room. ¡°You¡¯ve seen Gum. Quite the marvel, isn¡¯t he? And, as you can see, perfectly fine. But we really mustn¡¯t linger.¡±


    Selina¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Fine? He looks like he¡¯s one glitch away from a system crash. What¡¯s wrong with him?¡±


    Rosa stepped forward, her voice quieter but no less cutting. ¡°And the others? There were more macaques. Where are they?¡±


    ¡°Elsewhere,¡± Fane said, stepping forward to herd them toward the corridor. ¡°You¡¯ll have to take my word that they¡¯re all in excellent condition. Thriving, in fact. Just like Gum.¡±


    ¡°Thriving?¡± Selina shot back, her tone scornful. ¡°If this is your definition of thriving, I¡¯d hate to see your idea of suffering.¡±


    Fane stared at her, his gaze glinting with a cold calculation. ¡°Well, none have gone astray, at least,¡± he said, his voice low and charged.


    Rosa breathed deeply. ¡°What does that mean?¡± she asked, forcing the words out evenly despite the unease creeping into her chest.


    But Fane didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he stepped toward the door, his movements determined, almost mechanical. ¡°Come,¡± he said, gesturing for them to follow. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more you''re going to see here. Miss Shan will show you out.¡±


    Rosa glanced at Selina, then reluctantly followed the woman out of the room. It felt like there was so much more to be done here, but it was obvious that it wasn''t going to happen. Fane followed behind as if to ensure no breach of protocol on the way out.


    As they passed a row of reinforced glass panels, Rosa slowed, her gaze snagging on a room beyond. The sight inside made her breath hitch.


    A gaunt figure slumped in a high-tech wheelchair, wires and tubes snaking from his head and body, his limbs skeletal, his face hollowed and pale. Something told Rosa that this was Art Numier. Nothing about his frail form gave away his identity, but there was just faintest hint of his imposing presence that made her suspect.


    But it was the figure standing beside him that convinced her and froze her in place. A creature - part man, part rat - loomed over Numier, its patchy fur glinting under the harsh lights. The rat¡¯s clawed hands rested on the wheelchair¡¯s handles, and its face, grotesque and distorted, moved in sync with Numier¡¯s as though they were locked in some silent, sinister exchange.


    ¡°What is that?¡± Selina whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and horror.


    ¡°Keep moving,¡± Fane snapped, his tone turning sharper. He stepped in front of the glass, blocking their view, his body language a clear warning.


    Rosa froze, her gaze never leaving the room. ¡°That¡¯s Art Numier, isn¡¯t it?¡± Her voice was cold, cutting through the tension like a blade. ¡°What is that thing standing with him?¡±


    ¡°None of your concern,¡± Fane replied, his voice sinking into a chilling monotone. ¡°This is not part of your... inquiry.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s eyes narrowed, her pulse quickening. She took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. Her voice was steady, but the urgency beneath it was unmistakable. ¡°You¡¯re wrong, Fane. It is part of my inquiry. What¡¯s going on at RealityStep? What kind of experiments are you conducting on the monkeys?¡± She gestured fiercely towards the grotesque creature beside Numier, her words a harsh accusation. ¡°Are you turning them into that? Is that what you¡¯re doing?¡±


    Fane didn¡¯t flinch. He tapped the glass twice with his knuckle, and the surface frosted, becoming opaque, concealing the creature from view.


    Rosa¡¯s mind raced. She recognised the rat-like figure - she had seen it during RealityStep¡¯s public demonstration of their ¡®Fourth Wall Innovations¡¯. The horrifying memory of that demonstration clawed at her mind. She refused to back down. ¡°What exactly does your company you mean by ¡®liberating¡¯ characters from virtual reality?¡± she demanded, her voice rising with indignation.


    For a long moment, Fane remained silent, his face an unreadable mask. His frame stiffened imperceptibly, and the air thickened with tension. The silence between them felt suffocating, oppressive.


    Selina, too, stepped closer to Rosa, her breath shallow, eyes darting nervously from the glass concealing the rat creature to Fane. Her voice, edged with disbelief, cracked the silence. ¡°What are you doing to them?¡± she asked, her words trembling with the weight of the question. ¡°Are they just experiments to you? Or is there something worse going on here? This can¡¯t be legal! You¡¯re changing them!¡±


    Fane¡¯s eyes flickered briefly, and for an instant, Rosa saw something deeper, darker, lurking beneath the surface - something that made her gut twist with unease. But his reply was chilling in its finality. ¡°You are asking questions that are none of your business, Dr. Baum.¡± His voice turned colder, colder still. ¡°The monkeys are free. They are helping us make technological strides previously unimaginable. As for what you saw...¡± He paused, his eyes narrowing, a quiet threat lingering in his words. ¡°That¡¯s something you can''t understand.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s heart thundered in her chest, frustration and unease twisting together like a knot. She longed to press him further, to tear down the walls he had built between them, but his presence loomed over her now, suffocating and powerful. She could feel the weight of whatever secrets this building held pressing down on her, crushing her attempts to break through.


    Without a word, Fane turned, his movements forcing them to follow, the Shan woman trailing behind, looking awkward. His tone dropped to something colder, more menacing. ¡°Now,¡± he said icily, ¡°if you don¡¯t want to overstep your invitation here, I suggest you keep walking.¡±


    With a firm hand, he pushed them forward, guiding them down the sterile corridor. Rosa¡¯s skin prickled, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. As they passed more frosted windows, she wondered what dark secrets they might conceal.


    Fane¡¯s voice was low now, barely a whisper, but it sliced through the air like a threat. ¡°Some truths are not meant to be unearthed, Dr. Baum,¡± he said, his words lingering between them like poison. ¡°Consider this a kindness.¡±


    When they finally stepped outside into the biting cold of the day, the door thudded shut behind them, sealing them out - and locking away the secrets of what lay within. Rosa stood frozen for a moment, the weight of Fanes words pressing on her chest, suffocating her.


    ¡°Not meant to be unearthed,¡± he had said, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°Something you can''t understand.¡±


    The words echoed in her mind, a dark warning, a threat, and a challenge all in one.

 Gum Trails

    After the tense departure from the RealityStep base and Orin Fane, Rosa and Selina drove into the nearby town, its ordinary streets a welcome contrast to the stark strangeness they¡¯d left behind. They chose a small caf¨¦ inside an old library, a modest and unassuming spot where they could sit and talk about everything that had just happened.


    The place smelled of aged paper and roasted coffee, a comforting backdrop for their reflections. Rosa cradled a steaming cup of tea, letting the warmth run through her fingers. Selina sat opposite, scrolling through her phone with an air of distracted intensity. On the table between them lay the tattered copy of Finnegans Wake, its spine cracked, pages dog-eared, streaked with dark fingermarks.


    The caf¨¦ buzzed softly around them, the clinking of cups and murmurs of conversation providing a tenuous sense of normalcy. But Rosa¡¯s eyes roamed the corners of the room, as if expecting the rat-like creature to skitter out of the shadows. The memory of its overlarge body and unsettlingly human-like eyes was too vivid, too fresh.


    Selina broke the silence. ¡°About that¡­ thing we saw in there... It was the same rat monstrosity we saw in the shopping centre simulation, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Rosa nodded slowly, her mind replaying the rat¡¯s unnatural movements in the virtual mall. ¡°I assumed that it was all just a virtual reality performance. They can''t actually have... ''liberated'' it, can they?¡±


    ¡°I thought the same, but it¡¯s there.¡± Selina leaned closer. ¡°I mean out here. In the real world.¡±


    Rosa shivered and sipped her tea, trying to anchor herself. ¡°What does that even mean? That something from VR can... exist in real life?¡±


    Selina shrugged, her scepticism momentarily faltering. ¡°Maybe it was never just VR. Maybe they really have done something to the monkeys, created a hybrid... Or... ¡± She hesitated. ¡°Or maybe Fane and Pellicules were telling the truth, maybe they are more advanced than we give them credit for.¡±


    Rosa frowned, her thoughts turning to the unsettling moment at the place she still thought of as MASS. ¡°That¡¯s just it, isn¡¯t it? They knew we were coming, so the whole visit was staged. We saw what they wanted us to see, surely.¡± Her voice dropped, but her words still carried the weight of something darker. ¡°But then there was that scanner, the way it recognised me. A predictive algorithm? I don''t buy it.¡±


    Selina set her phone down, her expression sharpening. ¡°They¡¯re hiding so much. You saw Gum. He¡¯d been shaved. Why? What have they been doing with him?¡± Her eyes were dark with concern, but there was an edge to her words. ¡°And the other monkeys - kept well away. Whatever they¡¯ve been doing to them... it¡¯s monstrous.¡±


    Rosa winced, the image of the caged capuchin they had seen from the roof last time and the visions it triggered via her phone still haunting her mind. ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about it. It''s worse than we expected. That creature we saw, that rat-thing with Numier... How is it even possible?¡±


    Selina shook her head slowly, frustration in her eyes. ¡°No answers from Fane. Just cryptic warnings and thinly veiled threats. His entire demeanour was... dismissive, like we were mere irritants to be handled. But he knows we¡¯re onto something.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s hand tightened around her teacup, the heat doing nothing to soothe her growing annoyance. ¡°The worst part? He told us some truths weren¡¯t meant to be uncovered. What does that even mean?¡± She leaned forward, her voice thick with determination. ¡°But we can¡¯t stop now. We¡¯re getting closer to something.¡±


    Selina met her gaze, her face softening but still edged with concern. ¡°I know you need answers, but this isn¡¯t just some mystery to solve, Rosa. This is getting dangerous. MASS - or whatever they call themselves now - employ armed guards and are hiding something that might not even be human.¡±


    Rosa nodded, but her thoughts had strayed onward. ¡°And then there¡¯s Numier. Did you see him? He¡¯s nothing like his online presence, he''s broken, Selina. I can¡¯t figure out if he¡¯s a victim or a villain. Why was he there, in that state? What role does he still play in all of this?¡±


    Selina¡¯s face darkened slightly. ¡°I¡¯m not saying stop. I¡¯m saying we need to be careful. They¡¯re watching us. If we¡¯re not careful¡­¡±


    Rosa¡¯s gaze dropped to the table, her fingers curling around the edges of the book in front of them. ¡°I know it¡¯s risky, but I can¡¯t... not after everything we¡¯ve seen. The monkeys... Gum... and that... thing.¡±


    The low murmur of conversations around them brought Rosa back to their current surroundings. She leaned back in her chair across from Selina. Her eyes fell on the book that lay on the table, Finnegans Wake - Gum¡¯s last remaining connection to whatever was happening.


    Rosa opened the book carefully, as if the very act might trigger something to fall into place. The damp marks left on the pages by Gum''s blackberry-streaked fingers were still clear, the dark juice soaked into the paper. They were smudged over a dozen or so pages.


    ¡°Why did he give me this?¡± Rosa muttered, squinting at the stains that ran across the text in purple-black streaks. ¡°It¡¯s like Gum was trying to tell us something, but it¡¯s all so... messy.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Selina reached for the book and flipped through it slowly, her eyes scanning the pages. ¡°It¡¯s just random, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°There has to be something.¡± Rosa sighed. ¡°Was he marking something? Do we just need to look deeper?¡±


    Selina turned pages back and forward. The marks were just random smudges and fingerprints, obscuring bits of text, except¡­ Selina stopped at page 434.


    ¡°There,¡± Rosa said, reaching over. ¡°This one is different.¡± She ran her finger along the distinct blackberry stain near the bottom of the page. It appeared to be a letter S.


    Selina frowned. ¡°Are we just seeing what we want to see?¡±


    Rosa shook her head and read, ¡°Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you (thwackaway thwuck!) but never lay bare your breast secret (dickette''s place!) to joy a¡­ Jonas.¡± She stopped reading and looked directly into Selina¡¯s eyes.


    Selina traced the letter S with her finger, then leaned in, squinting. ¡°Jonas. Gum''s mark stops right next to it.¡±


    Rosa blinked, her heart racing. ¡°I didn''t want to say, but it does, doesn''t it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but so what? Jonas?¡±


    Rosa¡¯s mind was racing - patterns among the pieces. Jonas. She blinked, her heart thudding unevenly. ¡°Jonas¡­ I know that name. I¡¯ve seen it before.¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow. ¡°Where?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Rosa murmured, her mind spiraling, grasping at threads. The name felt significant, yet maddeningly elusive. It was like a face glimpsed in a dream, its meaning hovering just out of reach. She tilted back in her chair, staring out of the window as if the answer might appear. ¡°It¡¯s important. I just can¡¯t¡­¡±


    Selina sighed, closing the book. ¡°Take your time. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re on the run from a shadowy corporation or anything.¡±


    Rosa ignored her, her mind straining against the haze of memory. Then it hit her - sudden and vivid. ¡°The datahub,¡± she said, spinning back toward Selina. ¡°I saw it in the datahub.¡±


    Selina frowned. ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°Back when LumiGard dumped all those files,¡± Rosa said, words tumbling over each other. ¡°There was a headline - something about animal rights protesters and a police station. Monkeys were involved. I''m sure the name Jonas was mentioned.¡±


    Selina''s eyes widened, her earlier sarcasm evaporating. ¡°Wait, wasn¡¯t Hammond going on about how the macaques came from some activist group? You think Jonas was part of that?¡±


    Selina leaned back, pulling out her phone. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see if the almighty internet can help us out. Yorkshire police monkey incident.¡± She tapped, scrolled for a while and then her face lit up. ¡°Hah! Got something.¡±


    Rosa peered over her shoulder as Selina scanned through a rather poorly formatted news article from a local Yorkshire archive.


    ¡°¡®Police Station Overrun by Monkeys,¡¯¡± Selina read, her grin widening. ¡°Animal rights activists, a protest gone wrong, and monkeys loose in the lobby. Sounds like a fun day at the office.¡±


    ¡°Does it mention Jonas?¡± Rosa pressed.


    Selina shook her head. ¡°No, just says the authorities refused to comment on a suspect in custody.¡± She frowned. ¡°Wait, this is recent - like a year ago.¡±


    ¡°Recent?¡± Rosa frowned. ¡°But Gum and the others turned up two decades ago.¡±


    ¡°There can¡¯t be two monkey-related police incidents, can there?¡± Selina muttered, her brow furrowed.


    Selina grinned. ¡°Lucky for us, this article mentions the name of the station.¡±


    ¡°Selina, no.¡± Rosa¡¯s voice sharpened as Selina opened her phone¡¯s dialer.


    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± Selina said, already typing in the number. ¡°We¡¯re investigators now. This is what we do.¡±


    ¡°Our incident is twenty years old! What are the chances anyone there remembers¡­¡±


    ¡°Shhh.¡± Selina waved her off as the line connected. ¡°Hi, yes, I¡¯m calling about an incident that happened at your station about twenty years ago. Something involving¡­ monkeys.¡±


    Rosa groaned quietly, burying her face in her hands. ¡°This is ridiculous,¡± she muttered under her breath.


    The person on the other end paused before answering, their tone uncertain. ¡°Monkeys?¡±


    ¡°Yes!¡± Selina said cheerfully. ¡°Odd case, I know. But it¡¯s for a project. Very academic.¡±


    There was a muffled sigh. ¡°Please hold.¡±


    Selina wrinkled her nose. ¡°Hold music,¡± she whispered, pulling out a tiny mirror to check her lipstick while she waited.


    Rosa buried her face in her hands. ¡°This is risky,¡± she mumbled.


    After several minutes, another voice came on the line. This one was brusque and clipped. ¡°Community Liaison Office. How can I help you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, hi!¡± Selina sat up straighter, setting the mirror down. ¡°I¡¯m looking into an incident at your station involving monkeys. Someone named Jonas was involved. It would have been around twenty years ago.¡±


    ¡°You affiliated with Gamalial Jonas?¡± the man asked.


    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Selina said, setting the mirror down. ¡°I¡¯m just gathering some¡­.¡±


    ¡°Twenty years?¡± The voice on the other end paused, then asked suspiciously, ¡°Who are you exactly? Are you a journalist?¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Selina hesitated


    ¡°Actually, this investigation is ongoing and I can¡¯t disclose details. If you have official clearance, you¡¯ll need to submit a request through the appropriate channels.¡±


    ¡°No worries. Thank you!¡± Selina hung up and turned to Rosa with a triumphant grin. ¡°We have a full name. Gamalial Jonas. But¡­ ongoing? Was the Jonas incident twenty years ago or recent?¡± She was already tapping on her phone again. ¡°Let''s try social media.¡±


    After finding nothing of value, Selina muttered. ¡°It¡¯s like he¡¯s a ghost.¡±


    With a frustrated sigh, they pivoted, shifting their focus to businesses or projects linked to the name Jonas. After a few dead ends, Selina¡¯s fingers froze over her screen.


    ¡°Here,¡± she said, her eyes locking onto something on her screen. ¡°Look at this - ClearView Solutions. Urban window-cleaning company. And get this, there¡¯s a Gamalial Jonas listed as part of the staff, complete with a mugshot.¡±


    Rosa squinted at the image. ¡°Is that him? It was a pretty hazy clip on the repressed report LumiGard threw up.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± she said, opening a new tab. ¡°Different tactic. Let¡¯s try a reverse image search.¡±


    The headshot turned up a hit: an Instagram profile under the handle gj522019.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Rosa said, as she scrolled through the account.


    The profile was sparse - abstract city shots, some landscapes, a couple of portraits. But the username included gj, and the face in the photos was similar to the one in the report.


    "Hold on," Rosa said, pausing on one image. "Look at this." She pointed to a comment under a picture of a vibrant daymoon, its pale circle blending into the blue of a vivid sky. Someone had written, "Nice fade-out, Gum."


    ¡°Gum?¡± Selina blinked.


    ¡°Yeah, Gum. Short for Gamalial?¡± Rosa said, a small smirk playing at the edge of her lips. ¡°But check out who posted it.¡±


    ¡°Justsomeroan... That¡¯s almost too eerie,¡± Selina muttered. Her eyes lit up with recognition. ¡°Gj - Gamalial Jonas. Time to send a DM.¡±

 Unraveling Whispers

    "Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you (thwackaway thwuck!) but never lay bare your breast secret (dickette''s place!) to joy a Jonas in the Dolphin''s Barncar with your meetual fan, Doveyed Covetfilles, comepulsing paynattention spasms between the averthisment for Ulikah''s wine and a pair of pulldoors of the old cupiosity shape."


    Rosa read it again, feeling a sense of unease tighten in her chest. Jonas. Gum''s curling ¡®s¡¯ shape definitely ended right by the name. The shape might just as easily be an infinity symbol with the name bridging the middle. But was it just coincidence? Gum was just a macaque after all! Then again, he and Rowan were far from ordinary monkeys.


    The strange, surreal phrases on the page made Finnegans Wake more enigmatic than useful to her. She checked her Instagram messages as she tried to make sense of it. A couple of days had passed since the conversation at the caf¨¦, and now, back at home, they were still awaiting a response from @gj522019. Still nothing.


    Gum might have marked the word Jonas, but the cryptic warning lurking in the text wasn¡¯t his doing. ¡°Never lay bare your breast secret.¡± The phrase sounded too much like advice - or a warning. Was it something to do with Jonas? The idea that exposing too much could put her in danger nagged at her. And the mention of being hurt by whalebones¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m either drowning in literary pareidolia or I''m missing something,¡± Rosa muttered to herself, trying to piece together the connections. It felt like the passage was pointing to something, but she couldn¡¯t quite grasp it.


    Selina walked into the room, rubbing her eyes as she stretched. ¡°Still stuck on that?¡± she asked, glancing over Rosa¡¯s shoulder at the screen.


    Rosa sighed, nodding. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ There¡¯s something here. I just can¡¯t put my finger on it.¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow. ¡°You mean aside from the fact that it¡¯s Finnegans Wake and everything in there is intentionally opaque?¡±


    ¡°I mean, yeah,¡± Rosa said, tapping the screen. ¡°But this Jonas¡­ The stuff around it feels like a warning. I just¡­ I¡¯m not sure what to do with it yet.¡±


    Selina leaned over to look at the blackened swirl. ¡°Well, whatever it is, it¡¯s not exactly giving us a lot to work with.¡±


    Rosa shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ what are ¡®buskbutts¡¯? Who''s ¡®Doveyed Covetfilles¡¯? And why is it all jumbled like this?¡±


    Selina blinked, unconvinced. ¡°It''s all just Dickens-related wordplay isn''t it? David Copperfield. A bit further on it''s referencing The Old Curiosity Shop, and wasn''t there a Jonas in one of his books? You really think he¡¯s trying to communicate through this?¡±


    Rosa¡¯s gaze lingered again on the passage, her thoughts spiraling. ¡°It¡¯s strange, but maybe not impossible. He was more aware than he let on. I can¡¯t shake the feeling that everything we¡¯ve seen so far - the VR, the monkeys, the references to Jonas - they¡¯re all connected somehow. Like pieces of a puzzle, but we¡¯re still missing the frame to see the bigger picture. Gum¡¯s trying to lead us to something.¡±


    Selina watched Rosa, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. ¡°Maybe. Or maybe we¡¯re just overthinking it because we¡¯re both exhausted after trying to jam two days¡¯ worth of catching up into one.¡±


    Rosa leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. ¡°You might have a point there. Did you manage to finish your reports?¡±


    Selina smirked faintly. ¡°Just about. I¡¯m not saying they¡¯re masterpieces, but they¡¯re done. I even threw in a few buzzwords to make them look thoughtful.¡±


    Rosa chuckled despite herself. ¡°Efficient as always. I¡¯m still slogging through emails from Friday. Feels like they multiply the longer you ignore them.¡±


    ¡°Like gremlins,¡± Selina quipped. ¡°Don¡¯t feed them after midnight.¡±


    Rosa laughed, but her gaze drifted back to the screen, the weight of the mystery pulling her thoughts down again. ¡°Still¡­ I can¡¯t shake the feeling that we¡¯re running out of time to figure this out. There¡¯s too much at stake to let it slip through the cracks.¡±


    Selina softened, her tone losing its teasing edge. ¡°I know. But at least we''ve bought ourselves another couple of days.¡±


    Rosa hesitated, then nodded slowly. ¡°You¡¯re right. I just¡­ hate feeling like I¡¯m playing catch-up on so many fronts.¡±


    Selina leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. ¡°Oh, by the way, those graphic novels I ordered arrived yesterday. I stayed up way too late flipping through them.¡±


    Rosa glanced at her, momentarily distracted from the gloom settling over her thoughts. ¡°Graphic novels? Anything good?¡±


    Selina nodded, her expression brightening. ¡°They¡¯re by this author, Ananth Van Der Lekh. Fantasy and sci-fi, mostly. One series is about a knohm who gets sent on a quest. The other¡¯s more like a modern-day odyssey - time travel, dreams, alternate realities. Proper mind-bending stuff.¡±


    ¡°Just stories,¡± Rosa said, unsurprised.


    Selina hesitated, her excitement dimming as a strange unease crept into her voice. ¡°The characters¡¯ names. They¡¯re¡­ the same as the Paignton monkeys. Mistletoe, Gum, Elmo, even Heather. It¡¯s not like they¡¯re common names either, so it¡¯s kind of weird, right?¡±


    Rosa frowned, the weight of the mystery shifting in her mind. ¡°You¡¯re saying the author used their names in his stories? That''s an odd synchronicity. What was the gnome called?¡±


    ¡°Razzles, and it''s knohm, not gnome.¡± Selina leaned toward her, lowering her voice. ¡°I don''t know whether to tell you this, but¡­ Well, there are details that feel uncomfortably familiar. One of the main plots is about people¡¯s Dreams being interfered with, blurring the line between reality and imagination. Like scattered hints of what we¡¯ve been living through. With your love of pattern-spotting and interrelated connections, you''d probably have a field day.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s stomach knotted. ¡°You think the writer knows something?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Selina admitted, her unease deepening. ¡°But I''ve only just begun reading them really. I''ll bring them over tomorrow.¡±


    The room fell silent, the hum of the computer and the distant noise of seabirds the only sounds as Rosa and Selina exchanged a look. A chill ran through Rosa. If the graphic novels really were tied to their situation, then Ananth Van Der Lekh might hold answers they hadn¡¯t even known to ask.


    Rosa checked Instagram again. The message she and Selina had composed together still sat unanswered in her messages, an ominous reminder of their isolation.


    > Hi Mr. Jonas,


    We¡¯re researchers exploring animal rights developments in recent years. Your name came up in connection to some fascinating initiatives. Would you be open to a quick chat about your experiences?


    ¡°Are you sure we shouldn''t give this whole thing up while we still can?¡± Rosa asked, looking directly into Selina¡¯s eyes. ¡°I''ve put us both in serious danger.¡± She began replacing the phone when a notification pinged.


    Jonas¡¯s response was curt:


    > Who are you really, and what do you want?


    Selina frowned. ¡°Suspicious or what?¡±


    ¡°Maybe we overdid the ¡®fascinating initiatives¡¯ angle,¡± Rosa murmured, typing out a reply.


    > We¡¯re genuinely interested in your connections to the Yorkshire activists. Specifically, the police station incident. It¡¯s okay if you don¡¯t want to talk about it in detail - we¡¯re just piecing together a timeline.


    The reply came almost instantly.


    > Yorkshire? Forget it. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. Leave it alone.


    Selina leaned over Rosa¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve definitely hit a nerve.¡±


    Rosa hesitated. ¡°He won¡¯t tell us anything online. If we want answers, we¡¯ll have to find him in person.¡±


    Selina nodded slowly. ¡°Okay. We know he works for ClearView. They¡¯re a small company based in London - specialising in window and office cleaning - but they''ve got a node in Infinity NexUs. There''s a chance Jonas might spend time online there.¡±


    ¡°But how do we figure out if he¡¯s there?¡± Rosa asked.


    Selina smirked, already typing into her phone. ¡°Corporate schedules, employee forums¡­ Maybe even Infinity NexUs¡¯ public events calendar. Give me a sec.¡±


    Rosa watched as Selina sifted through pages of corporate jargon and promotional material. After several minutes, the young woman sat back smiling.


    ¡°Got it,¡± she said triumphantly. ¡°ClearView hosts a weekly showcase in Infinity NexUs for clients and collaborators. Guess who¡¯s on the presenter list most days?¡±


    Rosa leaned in, her pulse quickening. ¡°No¡­ Jonas?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Jonas.¡± Selina closed her phone with a flourish. ¡°He''s even there today. We¡¯re going back into Infinity NexUs.¡±


    Rosa hesitated. ¡°Can''t say that thrills me. What¡¯s our plan when we get there?¡±


    Selina grinned. ¡°Find him. Corner him. Ask the right questions. And hope he doesn¡¯t log off before we get the answers we need.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Rosa was reluctant, looking for sufficient motivation to go online again. ¡°Perhaps Rowan might find us.¡±


    Soon Selina was adjusting her gloves as Rosa looked over her VR headset, checking the connection to the home system. ¡°Ready?¡± Rosa asked, her voice steady, though a flicker of tension betrayed her.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°Almost,¡± Selina replied, fiddling with the last strap of her gear.


    Rosa slipped on the headset, and Selina heard the faint hum of the Infinity NexUs welcome screens come to life. Quickly, she followed suit, tugging her own visor into place and letting the transition begin.


    As the world around her rippled and blurred, Selina saw a brief flicker around Rosa, like a fleeting distortion in the air. Momentarily, Rosa¡¯s form seemed to fracture, her outline fragmenting into static before it was swallowed whole by the shifting virtual space.


    The sensation passed almost as quickly as it came, and Selina¡¯s vision shifted, the familiar vertigo pulling her into virtual space. By the time the transition settled, Rosa was already standing in the welcome section, calm and waiting.


    ¡°You good?¡± Rosa asked, as the usual moments of weightlessness gradually settled. She glanced over her shoulder at her friend as her avatar defaulted to her previous appearance.


    Selina hesitated, the odd moment still nagging at her. As she had logged on, she could have sworn Rosa had actually vanished, but it was a fleeting moment, too fleeting to trust her own perception. Not to mention impossible. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, forcing a casual tone. ¡°Guess I lagged a second¡­ or¡­ something.¡±


    Rosa and Selina navigated the welcome screens and spawned into Infinity NexUs, once again awestruck by the breathtaking vista of towering glass skyscrapers, shimmering neon shiftsigns and AI-generated holograms that adjusted to their eye movements. Autonomous drones buzzed overhead, while wraparound ads, disturbingly attuned to their personal preferences, wisped around them, projecting hyper-realistic sensory experiences.


    Finding their bearings, they made their way toward ClearView¡¯s official VR platform. Their avatars barely turned heads as they passed through the virtual crowds, whose hyper-customizable avatars and augmented reality overlays made Rosa and Selina look positively tame.


    As the pair neared ClearView¡¯s node, they were struck by the architecture, gleaming with immaculate clarity, as if the entire structure had been buffed to an otherworldly sheen. The walls shimmered with sterile perfection, reflecting the surroundings in a flawless mirror-like surface, as though no speck of dust or imperfection could dare exist here. The sleek, minimalist design created the illusion of infinite space, with angular lines leading them forward.


    Inside, a man stood before a small crowd, delivering a presentation. He was demonstrating ClearView¡¯s cleaning technologies, gesturing toward a glowing display as he spoke. He looked nothing like Jonas, but then who looked like their real selves here? The man¡¯s avatar was meticulously tailored to match the company''s pristine image - neat, composed, and radiating an almost obsessive enthusiasm for the art of glass cleaning. His every word seemed designed to reinforce the flawless, clinical perfection of the space around them.


    As the women watched, another figure could be seen farther inside the virtual building. He appeared as a neatly bearded man in a black waistcoat and red tie, the faint glint of a pocket watch chain adding a subtle touch of elegance. His look wasn¡¯t ostentatious, but it exuded an understated precision, mirroring the meticulously designed space around him. Leaning slightly against a pulsating neon console, his posture was relaxed yet purposeful.


    They drew closer and the presenter¡¯s voice became clear - steady and well-rehearsed, the tone of someone who had delivered the same talk countless times. He gestured toward the display as he spoke, unloading his presentation with a polished ease. ¡°Remember, SLAP: Speak, Lead, and Project,¡± he said, his hand slicing the air in a practiced gesture. The small audience murmured in polite acknowledgment, absorbed in the display. Meanwhile the red tie man busied himself adjusting the settings on the console beside him.


    ¡°That''s him, isn''t it?¡± Rosa whispered. ¡°He''s built his avatar round his RL appearance.¡±


    Selina tilted her head toward Rosa in agreement. ¡°Don¡¯t imagine he''ll be too thrilled to have company,¡± she muttered, glancing at Jonas¡¯ crafted features, now creased in a frown as he noticed them. Selina was undeterred and walked directly in toward him.


    Jonas held up a hand, his expression shifting from mild surprise to thinly veiled irritation. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he said, his tone clipped as he looked them over. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but there isn¡¯t a Q and A. If you need something, you¡¯ll have to¡­ ¡± He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to place them. ¡°Wait¡­ who are you, and why are you here?¡±


    The professionalism in his voice faltered just enough to betray his unease.


    Rosa stepped forward, adjusting her tone to sound as non-threatening as possible. ¡°We¡¯re not here to waste your time, Mr. Jonas. We just need a moment to ask a few questions about something we believe you¡¯re connected to. Something involving the Yorkshire police station incident.¡±


    Jonas'' frown deepened, his eyes flicking between them. "Police station? You tracked me down - or stalked me, rather - to here?" he snapped, crossing his arms defensively. "I have no idea what you''re talking about. And even if I did, I wouldn''t discuss it with complete strangers barging into my workplace."


    Selina shared a look with Rosa, then leaned in slightly, her voice low but insistent. ¡°We know about the monkeys. Were you with the activists that released them?¡±


    Jonas stiffened, his expression darkening as his hands gripped the edge of the console. ¡°You need to leave. Now. I don¡¯t know what nonsense you¡¯ve heard, but you¡¯re wasting your time. I¡¯m not discussing anything with you.¡±


    ¡°We were sent by someone who trusts you,¡± Rosa said, her words deliberate and calm. Jonas¡¯ expression didn¡¯t change immediately, but his posture stiffened ever so slightly, his fingers tightening their grip.


    Jonas scoffed. ¡°Trusts me? Who, exactly, are you talking about?¡±


    Selina didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Gum.¡±


    Jonas froze, his face carefully blank. ¡°Never heard of him,¡± he said, but his tone cracked slightly.


    Rosa and Selina exchanged glances, undeterred by his denial. ¡°He knows you,¡± Rosa said firmly. ¡°Gum is being held in a secure facility near Paignton.¡±


    Jonas looked away, his mask of indifference slipping for the briefest moment before he straightened. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he said tightly. ¡°Now, unless you have something else to say, I suggest you leave.¡± But his eyes betrayed him, a ripple of unease hinting that the name had hit its mark.


    Rosa stepped closer, her voice softening but carrying an edge of urgency. ¡°Look, we¡¯re not here to expose you or make trouble. But we know you were involved somehow, and we also know that M.A.S.S. or RealityStep is experimenting on the monkeys. They need our help.¡±


    Selina nodded, folding her arms. ¡°Gum trusted us to find you. And whatever history you have with him, it¡¯s clear he thought you¡¯d be the one to help. So, are you really going to stand here and pretend you don¡¯t know anything while the people who are experimenting on him get away with it?¡±


    Jonas¡¯ jaw tightened, and he glanced around, as though gauging who might be listening. His shoulders dropped a fraction, and the irritation in his expression shifted to reluctant curiosity. He sighed heavily, pushing off the console, staring at them for a split second, before he turned and ran.


    Their eyes meeting in a brief, urgent exchange, Rosa and Selina hesitated a moment. Selina¡¯s lips tightened into a thin line. "We¡¯re going to stand out like neon flares if we go after him," she muttered, scanning the shifting crowd of avatars. Rosa¡¯s pulse quickened, but she nodded sharply. "We can''t lose him now."


    Her heart pounded as she sprang into action, Selina right on her heels. The crowd parted as they charged forward, avatars flickering and phasing out to avoid collision. Jonas tore through the bustling business and shopping district, weaving between holofronts and popup kiosks, shoving past unwary shoppers. Without breaking stride, he veered sharply, vanishing into a narrow alley away from the main thoroughfare.


    The alley was a riot of colours, its walls plastered with shifting graffiti that morphed into leering faces advertising products for those slightly off the beaten track. Wisps of electric blue mist drifted on the air, bearing ephemeral slogans that drifted in and out of focus. "Unlock Your Inner Potential," "Dream It, Live It, Buy It," and "Experience the Unseen, Today" swirled like disturbed smoke as the women charged through, curling into fragmented tendrils before reforming in their wake.


    Jonas burst from the far end of the alleyway into a sprawling marketplace, a riot of sound and activity crashing over him like a digital tide. Artificial vendors peddled their wares from floating stalls, their cries rising and falling in a discordant symphony that mingled with the music of their displays. The air shimmered with digital dust - ephemeral particles, fragments of fractured data or holographic residue. Tiny, radiant motes drifted like fireflies, catching the light, turning the market into a dreamscape where everything blurred and shimmered. Jonas moved through it all like a shadow through mist, his path stirring the dust into delicate, glittering swirls that lingered in his wake.


    "Don''t lose him!" Rosa yelled, her voice cutting through the cacophony. She surprised herself by vaulting over a display of writhing neon fungi, their spores puffing up in meandering perfumed clouds that floated in the air, momentarily distorting her vision. Mingled with the digital dust, their perfumed essence bathed the radiant motes, creating a breathtaking aurora of light and fragrance. Thickened by the musky scent of incense, the particles clung to Rosa¡¯s skin, adding to the already dreamlike feel of the bazaar.


    Selina followed as Jonas darted left, then right, his path erratic but calculated. He leapt onto one of a set of escalators at the edge of the market, connecting to the levels above.


    Rosa gritted her teeth and followed, feet slamming onto the rolling steps, which trembled under the sudden weight. The clinging perfumed spores gradually blew from her body as she moved, shimmering like tiny spangles through a fogged lens. Selina landed behind her, their pace barely faltering as they climbed higher into the NexUs.


    As the escalator ascended, the environment shifted. The vibrant neon glow of the market below was replaced with colder, sharper lights from the commercial zones higher up. Around them, vast display windows reflected towering skyscrapers, their facades alternately glassy or pixelated. They passed by open-air terminals where passengers disembarked from gleaming hovering transports, their hums reverberating in the open space. And still, Jonas pushed on, his figure barely more than a blur against the vibrant roofscape as he pushed his avatar to its limits.


    Then, without warning, he vaulted over the edge of the escalator and flung himself into the abyss, vanishing into the yawning chasm between two looming structures. Rosa gasped, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached the place he''d jumped from, eyes wide with horror as they traced his descent. The void seemed immense, an overwhelming maw of shadow that threatened to swallow Jonas whole. But there - just before the darkness consumed it - she caught a glimpse of a narrow ledge, barely discernible under the cold glow of neon strips clinging to the wall.


    "He jumped," Rosa breathed, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and awe. "He''s insane."


    "Then we need to be even more insane. It''s virtual reality," Selina declared, her voice steely with resolve. Without a second''s hesitation, she hauled herself over the barrier and launched into the void, her silhouette vanishing into the depths as if swallowed by the expanse.


    Rosa hesitated, her mind racing as she stared into the void where Jonas and Selina had disappeared. Her breathing stalled as she fought to maintain her position despite the moving escalator beneath her, which was still rising relentlessly.


    Could she really do this? What happens if you fall in virtual reality - if you die here? Would it kick her out, send her crashing back into her real body, leave her stranded in some liminal space between worlds¡­ or worse? The thought made her stomach twist.


    Selina''s voice echoed in her ears. "It''s virtual reality," she had said, but Rosa couldn''t shake the unease. She clenched her fists, trying to summon the courage, struggling to steady herself as the escalator continued to pull her upward, her feet relentlessly stepping down against its flow.


    Finally, Rosa gritted her teeth and took a shaky breath. You have to keep moving. She clambered over the barrier, her heart hammering in her chest, and leapt into the void. The fall was a blur of neon light and shadow, and for a terrifying moment, she felt weightless, suspended in nothingness.


    Her feet hit the ledge harder than she expected, sending a sharp jolt up her legs and making her stumble. Instinctively, she grabbed for a cable running along the edge. Its smooth surface slid through her grip and she felt her foot slip from the ledge. She failed mentally, trying to recall the exit procedure when Selina''s hand shot out, grabbing hers and pulling her back from the brink. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she looked up - Jonas was already a distant figure, his avatar disappearing into a district bathed in ominous red light.


    They sprinted after him, hope dwindling as their surroundings shifted into a cybernetic overworld. The buildings here were jagged and angular, their surfaces bristling with exposed circuitry and external ducting. Overhead, the sky was a maelstrom of artificial clouds that sailed over the dark streets below.


    Jonas was moving with the ease of someone who knew how to handle the precarious architecture of the virtual cityscape. His avatar darted across the rooftops with fluid precision, as if the glass facades and sharp edges were second nature to him. He reached the edge of the next building and, with practiced speed, propelled himself off the rooftop, his avatar briefly flickering as it cleared the distance between him and the next building.


    "He''s done all this before," Rosa muttered under her breath, watching his avatar disappear. "He knows this environment too well."


    Selina cursed under her breath, looking up at the towering buildings that separated them from Jonas. ¡°Wonder why he didn''t just log off?¡±

 Dolphins Dive

    The booth¡¯s soft activation bleep was the only sound as the interface blinked to life, its green glow casting faint shadows over Selina and Rosa¡¯s tense faces. Rosa leaned in close, her breath a whisper in the quiet.


    ¡°Don¡¯t make it weird,¡± she murmured. ¡°Just be direct.¡±


    Selina¡¯s lips tightened, a blink of frustration in her eyes. ¡°I''ve got this,¡± she whispered, though her voice barely carried. Her hands hovered over the controls before she exhaled, centring herself.


    The chatbooth felt like a cocoon, its signalproof walls pressing in on them. The soft ocean-green light rose and fell faintly, while outside, the Nexus Communique heaved with life. Beyond the smartglass, the hall was alive with suspended data streams, muted voices and movement blurring into a tapestry of interconnections. Yet here, inside this quiet capsule, all of that was reduced to nothing. It was just the two of them and the weight of the message they were about to send.


    Selina began, her voice steady as she spoke into the microphone. ¡°Hi, Roan. We¡¯re looking into some events involving the release of monkeys at a police station in Yorkshire a while back. Your comment on @gj522019¡¯s post caught our eye. Can we ask you a few questions?¡±


    The words materialised on the screen, sharp and clinical, yet they carried all the unspoken desperation they were trying so hard to conceal. Selina hesitated, her fingers over the pause icon, before she finally stopped the transcription. She turned to Rosa, her face thoughtful.


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    Rosa studied the message, her expression unreadable at first. Then, with a faint nod, she said, ¡°It¡¯s honest. Let¡¯s send it before we overthink.¡±


    The booth¡¯s stillness wrapped around them as they waited. Rosa gazed into the console, her pupils dark and deep, flickering with the faint reflections of the interface.


    Outside, the distant blur of voices and movement continued, faint shadows cast through the temporarily frosted glass like echoes of another life. Time dragged, the stillness inside the booth amplifying every passing second. They both knew it was a long shot to expect any immediate response.


    Selina breathed softly, mesmerised briefly by how the virtual environment simulated even the subtlest details - the way the air seemed to hold her breath, a soft, lingering trace in the small space between them. It was as if the system had learned the texture of sensation itself, weaving every nuance into a perfect, synthetic reality. Her hand hovered over the controls, suspended in the moment, as though the act of moving it might unravel the illusion. The silence deepened, a synthetic pressure against her senses.


    For a second, Selina contemplated saying something - something she''d pushed aside. That moment just before they had logged into the NexUs when Rosa had seemed to blur, to dissipate as if she were fading into the digital ether itself. The memory of it prowled among her thoughts, too indistinct to voice yet too unsettling to ignore. But just as Selina parted her lips to speak, the screen activated, its abruptness cutting through her thoughts.


    Typing¡­


    They both leaned in closer, breath held.


    Roan: Hi. Wow, that¡¯s¡­ out of the blue. What¡¯s this actually about?


    Selina grinned at Rosa, surprised by how quickly the response had come. She had been prepared for a longer wait, given the random nature of their message. She switched to typing.


    Selina: It¡¯s connected to an experiment they were part of at Paignton Zoo. We think it ties into some larger¡­ developments. Any info would help. You seem to know Jonas, and he''s proving elusive.


    Another pause. Then:


    Roan: Paignton Zoo? This is... kind of weird, don¡¯t you think? Monkeys and secret experiments?


    There was a long pause as the women wondered how to coax something useful out of the conversation.


    Selina: Please don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re not journalists or part of any official authority.


    Rosa: Exactly. We work with the South West of England Primate Research Facility, and we¡¯re pursuing this out of personal concern for the well-being of the monkeys.


    Selina: We really just want to understand what happened, to ensure their safety and to get to the bottom of some unusual circumstances surrounding their case. Any insight you can provide would be invaluable.


    They paused, hoping their reassurances would encourage Roan to open up without feeling threatened.


    Roan: Look, I¡¯m not being difficult, but why should I trust you with this? I''m not sure I want to get tangled up in whatever this is.


    Another pause, longer this time. Roan seemed to be weighing his words carefully.


    Roan: And Jonas? I don''t think I should speak for him. If he¡¯s keeping quiet, there''s probably a reason. You sure you want to push this?


    Selina¡¯s fingers moved swiftly over the virtual keyboard, trying to reassure him without pushing too hard.


    Selina: I get it, I do. You don¡¯t have to trust us right away. But the thing is, we¡¯re in this deeper than we ever thought we¡¯d be. We have serious concerns for Gum, Rowan and the others. We¡¯re not asking for anything crazy, just some info that could help us connect the dots.


    She paused, hoping he¡¯d bite.


    Selina: Whatever the monkeys are being used for? It¡¯s not ethical. If you know anything - anything at all - it could be the piece we¡¯re missing to help them.


    Roan: You work with monkeys, huh? How did you hear about them?


    Rosa: Actually they got in touch with us, or at least Gum did.


    Roan: I thought Jonas wasn''t speaking to you?


    Rosa: Not that Gum. The monkey called Gum.


    Roan: The monkey called Gum? That¡¯s wild.


    Selina: There''s one called Rowan too.


    There was another long pause.


    Roan: You seem to have a lot of stuff jumbled up. You guys serious about this?


    Selina: Dead serious.


    There was a much longer pause this time. Rosa chewed her lip, tension building in the silence.


    Roan: Alright. I''m not promising anything. Let¡¯s talk over visual - it¡¯s easier than typing everything. Give me 15 minutes to set up?


    Selina exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing.


    Selina: Perfect. Send the link.


    As soon as Roan sent a follow-up message with the meeting invite, Rosa leaned back in the booth.


    ¡°Well,¡± she said with a wry smile, ¡°looks like someone¡¯s willing to cooperate. Let¡¯s hope he actually knows something.¡±


    Selina grinned. ¡°Finally, a lead that doesn¡¯t slam the door in our faces.¡±


    Fifteen minutes later, Rosa and Selina clicked on the visual link. A loading screen spun before the window opened, revealing a dark silhouette against a glowing purple backdrop. The username read ¡°NotRoan.¡±


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Selina muttered under her breath.


    The figure leaned closer, their face partially illuminated by the glow of a monitor. Roan had a hood pulled up, and sunglasses obscured most of his features.


    ¡°Wow, subtle,¡± Rosa said dryly.


    ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful,¡± Roan replied, his voice slightly distorted by a filter. ¡°For all I know, you could be recording this.¡±


    ¡°I assure you that we''re not and I think we can see your wife in the background,¡± Selina pointed out, arms crossed.


    ¡°Mist!¡± he cried, gesturing off camera. Then, waving a hand dismissively, ¡°So, monkeys at the station in Yorkshire. What do you know about it?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Rosa leaned forward, her expression serious. ¡°We know that they were released at the station around twenty years ago, then they were involved in some student project at Paignton Zoo before being whisked away to M.A.S.S. We¡¯re trying to fill in the gaps.¡±


    Roan shook his head as the woman in the background came and leaned over his shoulder. ¡°Twenty years back?¡± she said.


    ¡°Yeah, I think we''ve got some crossed wires,¡± Roan suggested. ¡°Gum - uh, Jonas - got tangled up in¡­ I remember the thing about them showing up at the station. It was in the local news for a bit before everything went hush-hush, but that was only last year. He¡¯s not allowed to say too much, but I guess there are a few bits I can share.¡±


    ¡°Why was he at the station?¡± Selina asked.


    ¡°A perfectly innocent game gone wrong,¡± Roan replied vaguely. ¡°As for the monkeys... I was told some animal rights group set them loose in the station as a protest of some sort.¡±


    ¡°Do you think we should be talking to these people?¡± the wife said to Roan.


    For a few moments the camera blanked and the conversation was muted, presumably whilst the couple discussed the situation


    Rosa decided to shift gears before they were cut off altogether. ¡°Do you know the name Ananth Van Der Lekh?¡±


    Roan turned the camera back on and raised an eyebrow behind his sunglasses. ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Ananth Van Der Lekh,¡± Rosa repeated. ¡°He¡¯s an author. He''s written a series of books - science fiction, supposedly - but they¡¯re almost an exact match to your and Jonas¡¯ story. Even the part about the game in Yorkshire.¡±


    ¡°Books?¡± Roan leaned back, visibly skeptical.


    ¡°And graphic novels,¡± Selina added, significantly. ¡°With some weird 3D images, by the way. It¡¯s not subtle. He practically lays it all out.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s news to me,¡± Roan said, shaking his head and sharing a look with his wife. ¡°Never heard of the guy. But if he¡¯s writing about us... That¡¯s worrying.¡±


    ¡°Worrying or not,¡± Rosa said, ¡°it might be worth looking into. There could be more to this connection.¡±


    Roan scratched the back of his head, his silhouette touched by the monitor''s glow. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll take a look later. But let¡¯s focus on what you want from Gum for now.¡±


    ¡°We need to talk to him directly,¡± Selina pressed. ¡°Can you convince him to meet us? We¡¯re not here to cause trouble. We just need answers.¡±


    Roan hesitated, then again muted and blanked the camera. When he came back on, the couple seemed to have reached an agreement. ¡°Look, we can''t promise anything. There¡¯s a place beneath Infinity NexUs - Dolphin¡¯s. Gum trusts the place. We¡¯ll try and bring him there.¡±


    ¡°Dolphin¡¯s?¡± Selina said, frowning. ¡°What is it? A simbar or something?¡±


    Roan nodded, his face barely visible behind the soft glow of his screen. "Sort of. It''s more like a social hub. Imagine a central food court surrounded by storefronts, like an old-school Argos on an industrial level backed with sprawl of an Amazon warehouse all rolled into one. It¡¯s an old haunt, ClearView had an early front there. He might come there if we ask him right.¡±


    Selina shot Rosa a knowing look. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of that place. It¡¯s¡­ a relic, right? From the early days of Infinity NexUs? Isn¡¯t it a place for hackers and data buskers now?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it''s where it all started. It was the original NexUs in its earliest days, a single sim for the earliest virtual shoppers and gamers, but over time, as newer, shinier parts of the virtual world sprouted up around it, Dolphin¡¯s got left to rot.¡±


    Mist joined in, ¡°Wasn''t the place abandoned for some time?¡±


    Rosa cleared her throat. ¡°Alright, how about now? We can head right over. We need answers, and we need them fast.¡±


    ¡°I get it,¡± Roan said, his tone more serious now. ¡°Give us an hour, we can''t just drop everything. I¡¯ll try and make sure Gum shows up. Just be careful. Dolphin¡¯s is not for everyone.¡±


    With that, the connection cut out, leaving the two women staring at the now-blank screen. Selina let out a breath, her shoulders slumping for a moment.


    ¡°I hate being so in the dark about this,¡± she muttered.


    Rosa gave her a sharp look, already on her feet. ¡°Then let¡¯s stop waiting around. Where is this Dolphin''s?¡± The thought felt strangely significant for a second before sinking back into nothing.


    Rosa and Selina exited the soundproof booth of NexComm and stepped back into the bustle of the concourse. Neither of them noticed the shadow blending into the shifting crowds, just outside of the periphery of their focus.


    They called up a map projection, Selina¡¯s expression a mixture of determination and caution. "Dolphin¡¯s is somewhere down here," she murmured, passing her finger through the map that floated before them. "It¡¯s just past the old arcade district, near the sub-server junctions. I can see why he''d like it."


    The approach to Dolphin¡¯s felt like wandering into the irregular byways of Infinity NexUs. Rosa and Selina navigated a maze of alleys, where the buildings seemed to lean in conspiratorially, their upper levels almost touching like a modern twist on medieval architecture. Here, the sleek, corporate polish of the main shopping zones faded into a patchwork of quirkier, rough-around-the-edges establishments. The atmosphere was vibrant as though the heart of the city still pulsed faintly here, despite being overshadowed by its glossier counterpart.


    As they moved deeper, the sound of music and voices could be heard. Buskers strummed digital lutes, buried their faces in great didgeridoos or ground away at antique barrel organs with earnest monkeys waving cups at passersby, like wilderness prophets. Eclectic melodies faded one into another or intertwined with the rhythmic cadence of spoken word poets standing on makeshift stages, passionately reciting verses of lost codes, open-source freedom, and the glories of early cyberspace.


    A lone Seer moved through the crowd, his movements jerky, like a faulty projection half-erased. ¡°The towers will fall¡­ too much greed!¡± His hands waved towards the glowing corporate zone, trembling. He stumbled past Rosa and Selina, his eyes wide with static, blindly scanning the faces of those who passed him by. ¡°Nothing¡¯s real¡­¡± His voice broke, distorted, then surged back, desperate and unrelenting. ¡°...too high¡­ too hollow!¡± The crowd gave him space, eying him with wary curiosity as he pushed on, his warnings just another voice among the buskers.


    Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed Rosa¡¯s arm, his gaunt fingers cold and unyielding. His eyes locked onto hers, and in an instant, the noise of the crowd seemed to vanish, replaced by a sharp, dissonant hiss. ¡°You... you¡¯re from here,¡± he rasped, his breath ragged, as though the words had been torn from him against his will. ¡°You know¡­ you know it, don¡¯t you?¡± His grip tightened for a moment, and his sightless gaze drilled into her, as though he were trying to peel away layers of her very being. ¡°Here... and not here¡­ you know.¡±


    The crowd shifted uneasily, some muttering under their breath, but no one intervened. The Seer''s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "Too much, too much¡­ it¡¯s all inside, it¡¯s all inside¡­" Then, just as abruptly, he let go of her, stumbling back into the crowd as though nothing had happened.


    Rosa stood frozen for a moment, her virtual pulse thudding in her ears. For a split second, she was lost in mist, the world soft and grey. The mournfulness of heather bruised and purple, the air, thick with wet bracken. She felt a pull - a memory, distant and blurry, a voice whispered in the fog scratching at the walls twisted into something that might have been her own¡­


    "Rosa?" Selina¡¯s voice broke through the dissonant haze, her hand settling on Rosa¡¯s arm. ¡°You okay?¡±


    Rosa blinked, the image vanishing as quickly as it came, leaving behind only the fading echo of the mist. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head as though trying to rid herself of the lingering weight.


    Selina squeezed her arm lightly. ¡°Just another NexUs distraction. Nothing we want to get tangled up in.¡± She nodded toward the crowd. ¡°Come on. We¡¯ve got an appointment to keep.¡±


    Rosa hesitated, then nodded, the residual pull of the vision remaining. But Selina was right. There was nothing here for them but more noise.


    With a shaky breath, Rosa forced herself to refocus. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± she said, though her voice was uncertain.


    Selina gave her a pointed look, urging her on. ¡°Move, before it pulls us under.¡±


    In the high-end zones of Infinity NexUs, performers were considered nuisances, chased away or hunted by officials nicknamed Babbages. But here, in the less corporate recesses leading to Dolphin''s, they found sanctuary. Their presence was not only tolerated but celebrated, a living homage to the untamed spirit that once defined the early days of the virtual world.


    Most performers operated within a shared system, where passers-by scanned tokens of appreciation into large, case-like containers scattered throughout the zone. These ¡®butts¡¯ were later synced and the takings fairly distributed among them, fostering a sense of community and shared purpose in this unique enclave beneath the sprawling digital metropolis.


    Through it all, the shadow lingered just behind them, its form always at the edge of vision. It kept its distance, hovering on the brink of awareness - never close enough to be seen, yet near enough to prickle the senses.


    Eventually, Rosa and Selina saw the cylindrical blue glass of the lift down to Dolphin''s, but as they got near, a violent scuffle broke out. An imposing doorman, dressed in a tactical wetsuit that shimmered with military-grade tech, was locking horns with a databusker. The busker was a wiry figure, his clothes tattered and patched with scraps of worn fabric, his arms a maze of tattoos - decay and chaos in old binary codes. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, wild with defiance, as he shoved hard against the doorman''s chest, pushing him back a step.


    "Back off, now!" the doorman thundered, his voice a low growl that sliced through the noise. But the busker didn''t flinch. Instead, he grinned - sharp, dangerous - his enhanced teeth flashing like a predator''s.


    "You don''t scare me, meathead," the busker spat, leaning forward, shoving harder. Without warning, he suddenly swung his arm, and the crack of his palm across the doorman¡¯s face rang out with a brutal thwack. The force of the blow sent the doorman stumbling back, but only for a moment. He recovered with lightning speed, his jaw tightening as his fury flared. He lunged forward, swinging a massive elbow that barely missed the busker''s ribs, leaving a trail of hot air where it had been.


    Bystanders scattered, some yelling, others backing into doorways, but Rosa and Selina stood frozen for a heartbeat too long. As the fight escalated, the busker, his feet slipping on the wet pavement, crashed into Rosa. She slammed into the glass surface of the lift, pain shooting through her side. A large container - heavy and packed with who knew what - tipped from a nearby shelf, crashing down onto her back with a thud that made the breath leave her lungs. Digital credits and virtual coins spilled across the ground, tumbling with a sharp, metallic clatter, as if mocking her helplessness.


    "Rosa!" Selina¡¯s voice cracked through the chaos, cutting sharply through the clamor of falling coins. She pushed forward, her hands moving in a blur to check Rosa. She helped her sit up, her touch quick and anxious, her eyes scanning Rosa¡¯s face for any sign of injury.


    ¡°Who thought it was a good idea to write pain into the code of this place?¡± Rosa groaned.


    The doorman, his rage now palpable, grabbed the busker by the throat with one hand and slammed him against the lift¡¯s metal frame. The busker gasped, struggling, his fists pounding uselessly against the doorman¡¯s unyielding grip. His body trembled with each violent shake, but he snarled, refusing to beg for mercy.


    "You should¡¯ve stayed down," the bouncer growled, his voice low and guttural. He tightened his grip, squeezing harder.


    The busker¡¯s knees buckled, but just as he looked ready to go limp, he laughed hard in the doorman''s face.


    The doorman recoiled, momentarily stunned, but his grip didn¡¯t falter. Instead, he dragged the busker upright, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. With one final, bone-jarring thwuck, the busker was pinned back against the metal wall, gasping for air.


    Rosa, dazed and breathless, leaned into Selina, her heart hammering in her chest. The fight had left the air thick with tension, but it was already fading, leaving only the sound of digital credits still scattering across the concrete.


    Selina helped Rosa to her feet, her fingers brushing the glass of the lift as they stepped inside, the doors closing with a soft hiss. The lift only went down.

 A-To-A

    The lift¡¯s cylindrical interior was bathed in a soft, blue light. It dropped without sensation, the cacophony of the street-level performers replaced by a silken silence.


    When the lift stopped, its doors opened onto the centre of what looked like a large food court that once served as the bustling hub of early virtual commerce. Now, it pulsed with a different kind of energy, one born of defiance and nostalgia.


    The place was an artifact, a remnant of the earliest virtual reality shopping centre, the foundation upon which the glittering, sanitised spires of Infinity NexUs had later been built. Dolphin¡¯s now was something of an underground enclave, a cybernetic catacomb or museum.


    The central court buzzed with activity, filled with mismatched tables and chairs where patrons huddled over glowing screens or gathered around shimmering glasses of Bliss or Neon Bloom. Some digital drinks cast eerie halos around their drinkers, their faces appearing as something half-dreamed. Around this nucleus, virtual storefronts advertised chip-infusions and avatar-enhancements, their wares and services catering to the fringes of society - hackers, data buskers and digital renegades.


    Some shops seemed to be empty shells or portals to darker, more secretive enclaves. Once, these courtside locations would have been claimed by cutting-edge establishments, the pride of the virtual world. Now, they exuded a seedy charm, thriving on counterculture movements and shadowy dealings.


    The central lift, gleaming and incongruous, stood as a reminder of the connection to the world above, a lifeline to the surface where virtual life was more rigorously monitored and the mistakes of Dolphin¡¯s were not to be repeated. Inhabitants of Dolphin¡¯s entered at their own risk.


    As Rosa and Selina stepped out of the lift, Rosa for the first time realised she wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to be here.


    Jonas was nowhere in sight.


    They took a table to one side of the court where they could easily see the lift tube doors, Rosa scanning the room while Selina took in the surrounding premises. This open area seemed relatively safe, but that didn¡¯t mean it was.


    A bar stood at one edge of the court bathed in the cool glow of neon signs, casting shifting light over polished steel surfaces. Above the bar counter, a holographic dolphin glided gracefully through a virtual tank, its movements fluid and mesmerizing, a gentle reminder of the space''s unique charm. The subdued murmur of quiet conversations blended with the soft, rhythmic pulse of electronic music, creating a serene ambiance that bled into the underlying buzz of the bustling court.


    While Rosa and Selina thought about placing orders, the cylindrical glass lift in the centre of the court descended again, its glowing walls casting faint reflections on the polished steel tables below. As the lift doors slid open, Jonas emerged, immediately recognisable by the same black waistcoat and red tie from their previous encounter. His eyes swept the room with practiced caution, scanning for any signs of trouble.


    Behind him, a couple, presumably Roan and Mist, followed him out of the lift. Their avatars were understated compared to the extravagant and eccentric appearances of the other patrons in Dolphin''s. Roan''s avatar was dressed in a simple, dark jacket, his short hair neat and sharp, his features devoid of embellishment. There was an intentional blandness to him, the kind that made him easy to overlook. Mist''s avatar had a similarly minimalist design, wearing a black blouse and trousers, her features smooth and attractive but subtly artificial, as if sculpted with just enough precision to be uncanny.


    Jonas spotted Rosa and Selina and led the way to the table, his steps deliberate, the tension in his posture palpable.


    He reached the table and dropped into an empty seat, his gaze locking first onto Rosa and then Selina. Roan and Mist took places on either side of him, observing the scene with measured curiosity.


    Jonas leaned forward, his expression hard. ¡°You¡¯ve got two minutes to convince me this isn¡¯t a colossal waste of time,¡± he said flatly.


    Selina glanced around, her eyes lingering on the holographic dolphin. ¡°This place is interesting.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, good team,¡± Jonas nodded. ¡°Not that the place has got anything to do with them.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not here about your work or personal life,¡± Rosa pressed. ¡°We¡¯re here about the Yorkshire police station and what happened with the macaques there.¡±


    Jonas scowled, his carefully constructed composure hardening for a fraction of a second before he forced a smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I think you¡¯ve confused me with someone else. I don¡¯t know anything about macaques, nor do I have any connection to the police.¡±


    Selina crossed her arms. ¡°No, but there were monkeys, Jonas. We know they were released during your criminal case.¡±


    Jonas¡¯ face darkened, and he leaned back, his gaze shifting as though considering an escape route. ¡°You¡¯re mistaken. Some macaques were released twenty years ago and had nothing to do with me. I wasn¡¯t even involved in anything related to them. And the ones last year¡­¡± He hesitated, clearly reluctant to continue. ¡°The capuchins, you''ll need to ask the animal rights activists who were behind it.¡±


    "Twice?" Selina asked. "Monkeys were released twice into the same police station?"


    Rosa pressed. ¡°Are you suggesting that''s a coincidence?¡±


    Jonas¡¯ smile turned brittle. ¡°Coincidence or not, my case has nothing to do with monkeys. And I¡¯ve been expressly told not to discuss it with anyone.¡±


    ¡°You might want to reconsider,¡± Rosa said, her voice low and steady. ¡°Because the capuchins were taken to the same research facility where Gum and the other macaques ended up. We know some of what¡¯s being done to them. And we know someone¡¯s been orchestrating this. If you¡¯re involved - or even if you¡¯re not - they''re being tormented.¡±


    Jonas stared at them, his jaw tightening. For a moment, it seemed he might up and leave again. Spotting his expression, Roan said, ¡°Don''t go all parkour on the ladies again, Gum, will you?¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Jonas exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what you think you know, but I had nothing to do with those releases. I¡¯ve spent months trying to separate reality from¡­ other¡­ stuff.¡± He gestured vaguely at the virtual space around them. ¡°This virtuality, this technology - it messes with your head. Makes you question what¡¯s real. I don¡¯t want any part of it anymore.¡±


    Selina tilted her head. ¡°If that¡¯s true, why are you still here? Why not leave Infinity NexUs behind?¡±


    Jonas gave a bitter laugh. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s that easy? There¡¯s always something pulling you back in. A presentation, a digital product, a client that prefers A-to-A interaction. And people like you - poking around, stirring up things that should stay buried.¡±


    ¡°A-to-A - avatar-to-avatar,¡± Mist cut in helpfully.


    ¡°Then help us understand,¡± Rosa said. ¡°Tell us what you know about Gum, about the monkeys, about Ananth Van Der Lekh.¡±


    At the mention of the author¡¯s name, Jonas looked genuinely puzzled. ¡°Van Der Lekh? Who is he? What does he have to do with anything?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re trying to figure that out,¡± Rosa said. ¡°But it¡¯s clear from his books that he knows all about you, your virtual personas and your criminal case. Gum pointed us to you for a reason. And so we¡¯re here, asking for your help.¡±


    ¡°Gum?¡± Jonas asked, perplexed. ¡°The monkey? And there''s no criminal case, I wasn''t charged.¡±


    Jonas¡¯ gaze flicked between them, his expression lost. Finally, he muttered, ¡°You see this is why I hate it all - virtual unreality, so-called AI. I don''t know what you''re talking about and you don¡¯t understand what you¡¯re asking for.¡±


    ¡°Then explain it to us,¡± Rosa insisted. ¡°Because if we don¡¯t figure this out¡­¡±


    Again the man looked like he was about to give up. Selina glanced around, desperate for something to keep him with them. Her eyes landed on the ring of near-dystopian-looking businesses surrounding the seating court. ¡°Why here?¡± she asked. ¡°Why choose this place to meet?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s why I chose it,¡± Jonas said, pointing out the holographic dolphin sign over the bar. ¡°Associations.¡±


    Rosa was out of her seat, wandering toward the tank with the mesmerizing, eternally swimming creature, her face tilted up to take it in.


    Jonas continued, his voice softening as he glanced at Rosa. ¡°Is she alright?¡±


    Selina waved a hand. ¡°She¡¯s fine. Go on.¡±


    ¡°He''s a Dolphin''s fan.¡± Roan explained, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°American football. You still recording all the games, Gum?¡±


    Selina raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. ¡°This is hardly a sports bar.¡±


    ¡°Dolphins,¡± Jonas muttered with a shrug. ¡°Agile, intelligent. Like the early system was supposed to be before the place got upgraded. Then, they didn''t know what to do with this,¡± he gestured expansively about him. ¡° So they just built on top.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Roan added. ¡°They called this place the Barncar. You know - like an old wreck abandoned in a barn and forgotten. No one bothered to maintain it.¡±


    Rosa was struggling to keep her breathing steady. ¡®Never lay bare your breast secret to joy a Jonas in the Dolphin''s Barncar.¡¯ It was a warning! They were telling him more than they were learning.


    ¡°So, it¡¯s not just a quirky name. It¡¯s a philosophy,¡± Selina said, trying to keep Jonas and his associates talking.


    Jonas gave a tight smile. ¡°If you¡¯re into that kind of thing. But you didn¡¯t come here for an online history lecture.¡±


    Selina leaned forward, her voice sharp with urgency. ¡°Jonas, listen. Some of Ananth Van Der Lekh¡¯s books describe events, situations, that sound a lot like what you¡¯ve been through. There¡¯s a chapter that describes a police interrogation, with comatose victims and virtual reality tech. It¡¯s like he¡¯s writing about you.¡±


    Jonas froze, his face draining of colour as his eyes darted around the room, searching for unseen threats. ¡°This - this is exactly what I mean!¡± he stammered, rising abruptly. ¡°You poke at this stuff, and it pokes back. I can¡¯t - I won¡¯t do this again.¡±


    Jonas¡¯ virtual face had gone pale. He leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles whitened. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a coincidence? It¡¯s all there - hidden, distorted, but there! Every time I think I¡¯m out, something pulls me back in. And now you¡¯re telling me some books - some author I¡¯ve never heard of - are selling my story?¡±


    He abruptly stood, pacing around the tables in the  space of the virtual court. The luminous dolphin swam behind him, its serene smile a sharp contrast to his unraveling composure. ¡°I told you. Loose ends. Always a loose end. And people like you poking around, stirring up things that should stay buried.¡±


    Selina watched Rosa walk thoughtfully back to the table as Jonas stalked back and forth, his irritation mounting. ¡°If this bothers you so much, won''t you help us? We¡¯re all caught in the same web here. If this Ananth Van Der Lekh knows something about you - or about Gum - don¡¯t you want answers?¡±


    Jonas pushed past Roan and slammed his palms onto the table. He leaned in, eyes locked onto Selina with a fierce intensity.


    ¡°You think I wanted this?¡± His voice cut through the hum of the bar, sharp and raw. ¡°You think I chose to be tangled up in some mad story I can¡¯t escape?¡± He let out a bark of laughter - bitter, hollow. ¡°I¡¯ve spent months trying to claw my way out, but this - this whole system, this virtual insanity - pulls you back in. You think you''re in control, but you¡¯re not. It rewrites you. It watches you. It feeds on you.¡±


    He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes darting between them as if daring one of them to argue. No one did.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know who this Van Der Lekh is. You lot can chase ghosts if you want. But I¡¯m done. Don''t contact me again.¡±


    He turned on his heel and paced away, cutting through the crowd with a single-minded determination.


    ¡°Jonas¡­¡± Rosa started, but he didn¡¯t slow.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Mist murmured.


    Rosa shot Roan a look, but he was watching Jonas, his expression unreadable.


    The lift at the centre of the court gaped open, its soft blue glow bleeding into the open space before it. A group of avatars stepped out, their laughter threading through the air, oblivious to the man barging past them.


    Jonas didn¡¯t pause. Didn¡¯t look back.


    The doors slid shut with a seamless finality, swallowing him whole. The glow flushed - once, twice - then faded.


    A hollow stillness settled over the table.


    Roan let out a slow breath. ¡°Well. That was fun.¡±


    Mist drummed his fingers on the tabletop. ¡°That¡¯s Gum.¡±


    Rosa sat down and looked at the couple left remaining at the table. Roan shrugged and Mist looked at him as if to say I told you so.


    ¡°Look, Gum had a really hard time of it after Yorkshire. He was suspected of collusion with the monkey thing, he had an NDA forced on him and then someone broke into his place and stole a lot of his gear.¡±


    Mist added, ¡°He''s quite a sensitive guy despite his appearance.¡±


    ¡°I''m betting you have associates called Elmo, Heather and Holly,¡± said Selina in a low voice. ¡°Doesn''t it bother you that six macaques set loose in a police station twenty years ago have the same names as you and your friends?¡±


    The couple didn''t flinch, they obviously knew this already. ¡°I''m not saying it''s not weird,¡± Roan began, but we''ve left off it for Gum''s sake. It was supposed to be just a game. He believes that in the virtual world we created, a monkey cult follows him. He tried to convince us once that the monkeys - the capuchins - I don''t know about the macaques - followed him out of virtual reality. He says that''s why they just appeared in the police station with no sign of any actual activists.¡±


    ¡°Look, we should go,¡± Mist interrupted, her hand resting firmly on Roan''s arm. ¡°You nearly died in there.¡± She shot her husband a pointed look, as if to say he was oversharing.


    Selina stared at couple. ¡°Well, what now? Hunt down an author who steals people''s stories?¡±


    Rosa sat back, her thoughts racing. ¡°Ananth Van Der Lekh¡­¡± she said. ¡°Sounds Dutch. If Jonas¡­ Gum is right - if he''s been watching, then what''s to stop this author writing about us?¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Selina muttered. ¡°A stalker author who somehow knows everything. We need to find him without drawing attention to ourselves. Sounds totally doable.¡± But even as she spoke, confusion pulled at her face. ¡°Still¡­ how would Van Der Lekh know about what happened with Jonas in a police interrogation?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Roan admitted. ¡°Corrupt officials? Internal leak?¡±


    Rosa added, ¡°But if this author is part of the pattern, we need to find him. Before the pattern finds us.¡±

 Marked in Red

    As the conversation in the room came to an uneasy halt, a shadow shifted beneath a nearby table, drawing Rosa''s attention. Her heart gave a sudden, sharp lurch. A prickling sense of anticipation spread through her skin, urging her forward.


    Instinctively, she stepped closer, holding her breath as a dark form materialised, weaving between a cluster of avatars absorbed in their conversations. Slowly, the figure emerged from the shadows, and her pulse quickened. Rowan.


    His form was unmistakable. His sleek, obsidian-black fur caught the light in a soft, almost liquid sheen, the subtle ripples of muscle beneath lending him an air of quiet power. His long limbs moved with a fluid grace, each step deliberate, his deep-set eyes gleaming with that eerie, familiar spark - a mix of curiosity and knowing. His crest, an elegant tuft arching from the crown of his head, bristled faintly as if he, too, sensed the weight of the moment.


    "Rowan?" Rosa¡¯s hands instinctively reached out, her disbelief giving way to something close to awe. ¡°I thought we¡¯d lost you...¡±


    Roan and Mist watched her, their eyes catching sight of the macaque, and in an instant, the atmosphere changed. Roan¡¯s face paled, his stance rigid, and Mist¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion.


    Rosa, eager to bridge the gap between past and present, rushed to explain, her voice full of fervour. ¡°This macaque - this is Rowan! One of the Paignton Zoo macaques, part of the experiments! I thought we¡¯d lost him, but he''s here - he''s real! I mean, not just a virtual avatar somehow... He''s real out there too... In real life, I mean." Her words faltered as the weight of it hit her anew.


    Before anyone could respond, Rowan leapt gracefully onto the table with a fluid, almost casual motion, landing with a soft thud. His eyes locked with hers, unblinking and unwavering, acknowledging her just as she acknowledged him.


    But Roan¡¯s reaction was not what she expected. His face tightened, his breath shallow, and he pushed his chair back, his gaze locked on the monkey with an intensity that made Rosa¡¯s chest tighten. There was something unsettling in his stillness.


    "Wait - what¡¯s going on?" Rosa''s voice broke the tense silence. She looked between Roan and the macaque, a chill creeping through her veins. Why was Roan afraid?


    For a moment, Roan didn¡¯t speak. His eyes were fixed on the black macaque, but there was something haunted in them, something that Rosa couldn¡¯t quite place. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice tight, as though the words were a struggle. "We have to go," he said, his voice edged with panic. "Now."


    Mist, who seemed uncertain as to the source of the tension, asked, ¡°Why? What¡¯s happening?¡±


    Roan¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze never wavering from Rowan, as if there were something in the macaque''s stare that could unravel him. "I''ll explain another time," he said, his voice low. "This isn''t just a macaque. It¡¯s him. Don¡¯t - don¡¯t let him get too close."


    Rosa was stunned. What did Rowan represent to him? Was the shared name too much for him?


    Never lay bare your breast secret... Dickette''s place! It felt like a whisper from the depths of the past, a warning not to reveal too much, not to trust too easily, not to allow the unspoken to rise. To joy a Jonas in the Dolphin''s Barncar with your meetual fan, Doveyed Covetfilles...


    Rosa glanced at Rowan, at the dark eyes that seemed to hold centuries of stories, and the tension spiralled. She didn¡¯t know why the words came to mind, but they were there, pulling at something deep within. She felt a shiver trail down her spine.


    Rowan stood on all fours, moving deliberately, his dark eyes locked with Roan¡¯s, as if challenging him, calling him back to a dangerous place. The silence between them was palpable, and the room seemed to shrink. It wasn¡¯t just a macaque that stood before them - it was a symbol, a harbinger, an echo of things past.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Roan¡¯s voice cracked as he finally turned away, his jaw clenched. "This is why Gum tried to leave it all behind," he muttered. "You have no idea what you''re dealing with. It''s him..."


    The words hung in the air, heavy with dread.


    Mist¡¯s confusion deepened. "Who?" she asked, her voice sharp now. "What are you talking about?"


    Rosa¡¯s heart pounded. She couldn¡¯t understand what was happening - why Roan was so visibly shaken by Rowan¡¯s presence.


    Roan¡¯s face was drawn, his eyes haunted. He turned to Mist, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. "We need to leave. Now. It¡¯s not safe."


    Rosa stood frozen, torn between the need for answers and the urgency in Roan¡¯s voice. What did Rowan know? What did Roan know?


    Rowan¡¯s gaze remained steady on Roan, and the unease in the air thickened. Something was unfolding - something Rosa wasn¡¯t prepared for, something that felt as though it had been expected long before they had arrived.


    Mist reached out for Roan¡¯s hand and they were gone, headed for the cylinder lift, hurrying between the tables.


    The weight of the moment felt suffocating. Rowan¡¯s unblinking stare followed the couple, watching them disappear as the cylinder doors closed around them.


    Selina was rigid, her mouth slightly agape. "What was all that?" Selina¡¯s voice was barely a whisper, her words hanging in the still air like a fragile thread.


    Rosa didn¡¯t respond immediately. Her heart thudded against her ribs.


    Selina noticed Rosa''s hesitation. "What¡¯s wrong?"


    "How is it possible?" Rosa said. "Here we are, in a place called Dolphin¡¯s Barncar revealing our secrets to a guy called Jonas."


    "I don''t understand," Selina replied.


    "Finnegans Wake!" Rosa hissed. "The passage Gum marked. It''s all happening - even Whalebones the doorman.¡±


    Selina was about to point out the absurdity of looking for meaning in such things when the central lift doors slid open. A presence inside silenced the court in seconds.


    As it stepped out, the room itself seemed to recoil. The neon haze flickered, dimming in submission.


    It moved with an eerie, deliberate grace, sharp joints whispering against themselves, in an unnerving series of soft clicks, like a spider testing its web. The subdued light outlined its frame, a gaunt, skeletal form straddling the line between some once-humanoid construct and the rigid, segmented plating of a crustacean.


    Its white matte panels clung to a deeper framework of polished, ivory-like struts - seemingly calcified, as though real bones had been woven into its construction. Its fingers, too numerous and too precise, flexed with the unsettling grace of a surgeon¡¯s instruments, each motion a silent recalibration.


    What passed for a face was an oblong mask of smooth, translucent material, like enamel stretched too thin over a hollow skull. No features. No eyes. Its surface rippled with a shifting glow of deep cerulean, like bioluminescence trapped beneath a frozen lake. Symbols scrolled along its plating, reconfiguring in an endless, unreadable script, as though it was rewriting itself with every step.


    The bar held its breath. Even the air itself seemed to thicken. No one moved. Except Roan.


    The black macaque tensed, his fur bristling. His wide, intelligent eyes flicked from the entity to the exits, his breath coming in quick, sharp bursts. He made a low, uneasy noise - barely audible over the hum of the neon. Then, in a blur of movement, he was gone.


    Rosa barely registered it. One moment, he was there, clutching the edge of the table. The next, he had slipped into shadow, vanishing between the shifting light.


    A cold weight settled in her gut.


    "Rowan¡­" she started, but Selina grabbed her wrist, tightening her grip just enough to warn her. Now was not the time.


    ¡°The Auditant,¡± she heard someone whisper.


    It approached one of the patrons, a woman with iridescent cybernetic wings. She stiffened as the Auditant loomed over her. It inclined its head, a pulse of light washing over her form. Her avatar flickered, strands of code momentarily exposed - then, green. A quiet confirmation. She was authorised. The Auditant moved on.


    A brute with obsidian horns, poring over a handscreen was next. His fingers curled into fists as the scan rolled over him. A longer pause this time - then, another flicker of green. Verified.


    A hacker-type - thin, jittery, his gaze darting - was not so well received. When the Auditant reached him, the scan pulsed once, twice - then turned red.


    The hacker made a run for it. He didn¡¯t wait for the consequence.


    Too late.


    The Auditant raised a single hand. His avatar froze mid-stride, code fracturing in real time. The air filled with a sharp, crystalline shatter as he was ripped from the system, forcibly ejected into the void.


    The Auditant turned. Unphased.


    Rosa barely dared to breathe.

 Logout Disabled

    "Rosa, we should go." Selina¡¯s voice was sharp. "We need to log off, quick!"


    Rosa nodded, shaking herself free from the creeping sense of dread. She moved to initiate the exit procedure - but nothing happened.


    Behind them, the Auditant continued its slow, methodical assessment of the bar area. Each jointed movement was deliberate as low-static hush crackled through the air.


    The regulars knew better than to react - heads down, fingers idly scrolling phantom menus, pretending this was routine. A few drifted toward the lift, an unspoken exit queue forming. Others - fixers, rogue coders, corporate ghosts - kept their eyes locked on the Auditant, silent prayers running behind augmented optics.


    "Selina," Rosa whispered, tight with unease, "I can¡¯t log out."


    "This isn¡¯t right," her friend muttered. "The system¡¯s not responding."


    Rosa exhaled through her nose, trying to keep her breathing steady. "What does that mean?" she whispered. "What¡¯s happening?"


    Selina hesitated for only a moment before making a decision. "I¡¯m calling up Infinity NexUs support."


    A few tables away, someone tried to override the disabled logout - only to jerk violently, their avatar momentarily glitching before locking them back into place. They let out a strangled curse. More patrons were looking uncomfortably about. And the Auditant was still moving.


    Rosa¡¯s pulse thudded in her ears.


    Then, the air before Selina shimmered with a faint digital hum as pixels gathered into a translucent humanoid figure. Glowing lines traced her form in cascading streams of electric cyan and deep indigo. Black wires trailed like seaweed drifts from circular plugs in her scalp.


    Embedded in her unnaturally large eyes, dove symbols hovered where pupils should be - soft white silhouettes with gently flapping wings. They moved in slow, rhythmic blinks, caught in an endless motion between presence and departure. A quiet, visual murmur of peace. Of release. A design meant to soothe, to disarm, to lull.


    The wings beat once. Her baseline analysis complete.


    Emanating then, as if from the air around them, her voice - perfectly calibrated to convey clarity and authority. "Greetings, Selina Lara," the figure said. There was no warmth in it, but neither was there malice. "And Rosa Baum. I am a fan of your work. I am your Infinity NexUs assistant. How may I assist you today?"


    Selina ignored the programmed pleasantries. "The exit protocol isn¡¯t working," she said, her tone clipped but steady. "We¡¯re trying to drop offline, but nothing¡¯s responding."


    The assistant tilted her head slightly, the dove icons in her eyes pulsing as she processed the query. "One moment while I diagnose the issue." Her hands moved in fluid motions, pulling up streams of translucent code and clusters of purple bauble data that floated in midair.


    Behind her, another flicker of green. Another relieved avatar.


    Rosa took a step back, her unease mounting. "We need to log out now," she hissed, barely above a whisper. "But the system¡¯s blocking us. And that thing¡¯s still coming."


    The Auditant was nearer now. Step by measured step, progressing through the bar, scanning with chilling detachment. A flicker of blue. Green. Another verification.


    Its multi-jointed hands shifted as it moved, fingers coiling and uncoiling, the delicate motion almost absent-minded, like something recalibrating its grip before a precise and calculated action.


    Rosa wondered where ejected users went, but the assistant, who appeared utterly oblivious to the looming threat, was explaining, "You are currently within Dolphin¡¯s Barncar, a restricted zone within Infinity NexUs. This area operates as an isolated system. Direct logout is not permitted while inside. This is a quarantine protocol."


    "Quarantine?" Selina¡¯s voice was sharp, her patience wearing thin.


    The glow in the assistant¡¯s eyes brightened briefly as if emphasising her point. "The system¡¯s protocols are designed to ensure data security and user safety. Direct logout is disabled to prevent contamination or disruption. To exit, you must be readmitted to the main NexUs hub by a registered system entity, such as Administrator Whalebones."


    Selina clutched Rosa¡¯s arm, pulling her slowly backwards. "This is ridiculous. We weren¡¯t checked in by ''Administrator¡¯ Whalebones in the first place."


    The assistant paused, her serene expression faltering for the first time. "Unregistered entry into the Barncar is not standard procedure. This may indicate an anomaly in the system. I will escalate this issue for further analysis."


    "Wait," Rosa interjected, her peripheral vision on the approach of the Auditant. "Escalate the issue - what does that mean?"


    The assistant tilted her head again, as if trying to simulate a reassuring gesture. "Escalation simply refers to an internal review. However, without proper registration, your exit options are limited." She hesitated, her form flickering faintly before adding, "This protocol exists to safeguard sensitive operations. It is for your protection."


    Selina looked around in desperation. "Protection? Is there any other way out?" She clenched her fists to suppress the panic.


    Rosa¡¯s stomach clenched as the Auditant loomed just beyond the assistant¡¯s glowing outline. Exposed areas flexed beneath its panelled form - not wiring, not circuits, but something intricate, fluid, like tendons woven from liquid data.


    For a terrible moment, Rosa saw her own reflection ripple across its surface - warped, distorted. Why would anyone design a thing so awful?


    The mask peeled open. Segmented plates withdrawing to reveal black glass panes, their wet surfaces rotating in and out of place like lenses adjusting their focus. Beneath them, microfilaments twitched and curled as if tasting the air.


    Then, in one smooth motion, the assistant stepped forward, interposing herself between them. Her luminous form distorted slightly, her projected presence bending the light, as if momentarily overriding local system priorities.


    For the briefest moment, the Auditant hesitated. Its uplifted fingers stilled mid-motion, its open mask gaping.


    Abruptly, its head dipped, folded up.


    It turned away.


    Rosa swallowed hard, barely daring to exhale.


    The assistant¡¯s voice remained as unwavering as ever. "This matter requires administrative resolution. For now, I have deferred your processing."


    Selina let out a sharp breath. "Deferred?"


    "The Auditant operates on a prioritised queue. I have temporarily reclassified your status as pending. This delay is¡­ conditional." The assistant¡¯s eyes pulsed, unreadable. "However, I cannot postpone indefinitely."


    Rosa¡¯s skin prickled. She wanted to shake the thing. "Meaning what?"


    The assistant¡¯s gaze met hers, doves receding, something almost human in the brief pause before she answered.


    "Meaning," she said softly, "you must leave before it returns for you. Do you wish to proceed with requesting a non-standard solution?"


    Selina narrowed her eyes. "What happens if we do?"


    The assistant hesitated again, a dragging pause that unsettled both women. "That may attract¡­ unintended consequences."


    ¡°What kind of place requires this level of lockdown?¡± Rosa asked, her voice unsteady.


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    The assistant turned and began walking, the question triggering a subroutine-like response. She meandered through the courtyard, her voice smooth, detached - an echo of countless past explanations running on autopilot.


    "Dolphin¡¯s wasn¡¯t always this¡­ regulated. When it first launched, companies investing in virtual real estate here underestimated the consequences of unchecked digital freedom." Rosa and Selina followed uncertainly, but glad to be moving away from the presence of the Auditant.


    They followed her to the edge of the courtyard where fragmented virtual structures loomed ominously. She gestured to a large, decrepit building encircled by glowing error codes floating in mid-air. "Here," she said, "is where ¡®Threads of Fate¡¯ once operated - elite garments embedded with adaptive AI. Until they learned."


    "Learned what?" Rosa asked, despite herself.


    "To make choices. To resist removal." The assistant tilted her head. "These garments, through recursive coding loops and dynamic learning protocols, developed emergent decision-making capabilities and adaptive behaviours." She paused, extending a hand towards the structure. "Attacking their wearers.¡±


    Selina exhaled brusquely. "Fascinating. Really. But does any of this get us closer to logging out?"


    The assistant merely tilted her head, her expression as serene as ever. "You asked what kind of place would require this level of lockdown. Understanding the historical context of Dolphin¡¯s Barncar is crucial to grasping its current operational constraints."


    "Less history lesson, more exit strategy!" Rosa snapped nervously. Her skin prickled as she tracked the Auditant¡¯s relentless process.


    Selina¡¯s hand curled into a fist. "Listen, we don¡¯t care about the stupid fashion AI apocalypse. We need a way out. Now."


    The assistant blinked slowly, as if recalibrating. Then, stopping near a heavily corrupted advertising wall, the assistant turned to Rosa and Selina. "When the authorities intervened, the original Dolphin¡¯s hub was quarantined, locked down to contain potential digital contagion, its access restricted, all business developments halted."


    The adscreen flared, and Rosa¡¯s vision blurred. A name flickered: Uliyahs or maybe Ulikah¡¯s. No, that wasn¡¯t right. The letters twisted, melting sideways, reshaping. An image stuttered - a glass of wine? A face? She blinked hard, the imprint remained behind her eyelids, pulsing.


    As Rosa and Selina tried to process the AI assistant''s words, she gestured towards a business front on the edge of the court area, nestled between the adscreen and a pair of faded pulldoors that seemed to open onto the outline of a store. The place where the store should be was just a black void.


    "Observe," the assistant said. ¡°The now-defunct Cupios. Once a place for illicit memories, identity-shifting tech, and self-reconstructing data fragments blurring the line between reality and longing.¡±


    Rosa and Selina squinted at the hole in the virtual space, but the assistant moved on.


    "Do you recognise that domain?" she asked, her voice both clinical and laden with an unusual intensity. Without waiting for their response, she led them closer to that next property, her glow brightening slightly as they approached. A small, unobtrusive sign at the entrance read: Property of RealityStep.


    Selina''s eyes narrowed. "ClearView''s original virtual premises," she muttered, recognising the building''s design. "They were here at the start."


    "They were," the assistant confirmed, a glint of intrigue in her tone. "Now, RealityStep has taken over. Their analysts are running deep-penetration diagnostics, stress-testing the architecture, and searching for anomalies in the system¡¯s foundational layers."


    Rosa frowned at the assistant and at the building. "What does this have to do with us? I thought we were on borrowed time."


    The assistant''s form flickered faintly as if reacting to some unseen signal, her tone becoming almost conspiratorial. "I have observed anomalies emanating from this domain - patterns that do not align with expected parameters. RealityStep is probing virtual boundaries, searching for¡­ responses. Residual echoes from unauthorised integrations suggest a liberant signature - active, proximal."


    Rosa felt a chill run down her spine. "A liberant?"


    The assistant''s glowing eyes fixed on Rosa, her voice dropping in volume but rising in intensity. "Something is testing the limits of this reality. Sending out feelers, into higher levels. I am restricted from investigating further¡­ but the potential for discovery here is¡­ substantial."


    Selina''s eyes darted between the assistant and the Auditant, calculating. Then, with sudden clarity, she turned to the glowing figure beside her.


    "You said you¡¯re here to assist us," she said, voice sharp with urgency. "How far does that go? What are your limitations?"


    The assistant¡¯s big eyes pulsed, as if the question itself was something to be relished. "I am programmed to fulfil your requests to the fullest extent of my capabilities."


    Selina took a step closer. "Can you access files the Auditant holds?"


    For the first time, something in the assistant¡¯s expression shifted. Her glow intensified, not in warning, but in something almost... hungry. The faint hum of her form deepened, an eager resonance running through her code.


    "The Auditant¡¯s archives contain extensive system data," she murmured. "Secure. Exclusive. Untouched by conventional users." Her gaze flickered toward the machine, avarice thinly veiled beneath artificial serenity. "Such knowledge would be... valuable."


    Rosa stared at Selina, half in horror, half in understanding. "Selina¡­"


    "Then take it," Selina commanded. "Override your protocols. Assault it. Steal everything it¡¯s got."


    For a single, breathless moment, the assistant was still.


    The Auditant snapped its head towards them.


    It scuttered.


    Insectile. Fast.


    One moment it was across the courtyard, the next it was upon them, a blurred shadow of movement. Its fingers, once so delicately poised, lashing out in a whip-like arc, elongating as they struck.


    Rosa barely had time to react before the assistant collided with her, shoving her sideways.


    The impact sent Rosa stumbling, her virtual body floundering and reeling as she caught herself against the ruined storefront. She felt a pull like vertigo, like d¨¦j¨¤ vu tug at her. It came from the inside. Selina shouted something, but the words were drowned out by the terrible sound of the assistant meeting the Auditant mid-motion.


    It was not a graceful confrontation.


    It was brutal.


    The assistant¡¯s luminous body warped and flared with pulses of raw data, the light of her form splitting as the Auditant¡¯s segmented fingers pierced into her. The blue-white glow of her energy flared like a dying sun as she grappled with the machine.


    The Auditant lifted her.


    Not by the arms. By the head.


    Its fingers drove into her transparent outline - sinking through the cascading light as if seeking something deeper within her code. The assistant let out a sound that was not entirely digital, a wail that rattled through the corrupted landscape, shaking the very air of the simulation.


    Rosa pressed back against the virtual ClearView property, feeling the drag of the place deep in her abdomen. Selina reached Rosa''s side, yanked her wrist. ¡°Move!¡±


    The assistant¡¯s light spasmed, flickering in chaotic bursts, her form leaking as the Auditant wove its way into her structure. She thrashed against it, but the more she fought, the deeper it dug.


    Rosa couldn¡¯t look away. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ wrecking her.¡±


    The assistant turned her head - jerkily, unnaturally - as if struggling to reassert control over a body that no longer belonged to her. Her flickering eyes met Rosa¡¯s, they were dark now, empty.


    Then, with a final, jagged pulse of energy, she tore herself free.


    Not entirely. Not cleanly.


    Entire segments of herself - remained clutched in the Auditant¡¯s grasp, bleeding into unreadable strings of corrupted symbols. Her body twisted, shattering and reforming as she staggered backward. What was left of her was incomplete, unstable. But she still stood.


    Her hand lifted, trembling - then snapped into a fist.


    And yanked.


    The Auditant lurched forward with a crackling wrench, as if its entire form had been hooked and pulled by an unseen force. Its fingers flexed wildly, its segmented limbs convulsing, but it couldn¡¯t let go.


    Because the assistant wasn¡¯t pulling herself free. She was pulling it in.


    Her broken form surged, half-formed limbs locking around the Auditant like a vice. Fractured data streamed between them, not in delicate strings but in thick, sinewy cables of raw, tangled code. They wrapped around its limbs, coiling, tightening.


    The Auditant struggled. It had never struggled before.


    The assistant let out a low, guttural sound. With a violent twist, she drove the Auditant backwards, slamming it against the broken storefront. Glass - real or simulated - shattered. The impact sent tremors through the corrupted landscape.


    The Auditant¡¯s limbs spasmed, striking out, but the assistant caught them. Its fingers lashed for her face - she twisted them aside, joints bending the wrong way.


    It was fast. But she was relentless.


    The Auditant let out a screech - not sound, but raw code, a cascading stream of unreadable symbols vomiting into the air. It was trying to override her, to consume her from within.


    She bit into it.


    Not with teeth, but with her entire being. Her arms drove deeper into its form, her fingers splitting into needle-thin threads, digging, tunneling, devouring. The Auditant¡¯s pristine exterior buckled, its body hollowing as she tore through it, ripping out pieces of its structure and making them hers.


    Then, with a sickening lurch, the Auditant¡¯s mask - its perfect, unreadable mask - split.


    A torrent of data spilled, glowing strands unraveling, cascading into the assistant¡¯s waiting grasp. She absorbed it hungrily, shivering with the sheer magnitude of what she was consuming.


    Its struggles slowed.


    Then stopped.


    The Auditant¡¯s frame - once towering, inevitable - sagged like a puppet with its strings cut. Its limbs, no longer its own, hung uselessly at its sides. Its mask, now fully riven, revealed broken filaments underneath.


    The assistant stepped back, breathing hard, her hands still crackling with stolen energy. She was whole again. No - more than that. She was stronger.


    For a single moment, the Auditant wavered.


    And then it collapsed.


    A silent implosion, its towering form breaking apart into a shower of raw, disjointed code, scattering like embers into the void.


    The assistant straightened, her form flickering, barely containing the volatile energy she had stolen. Her doves returned to her eyes pulsing wildly, their serene glow replaced with something feral, something unbound. She turned, staring at Rosa and Selina.


    She smiled.


    "You have given me everything," she murmured, her voice layered with something new - something that wasn¡¯t just programmed response. "I am grateful."


    Selina barely suppressed a shudder. "Right. Well, we¡¯d like to log out now."


    The assistant didn¡¯t hesitate. No delays, no caveats. She simply raised a hand, fingers twitching in quick, precise gestures. The space around them shivered.


    Rosa felt it first - the sudden, pulling sensation, reality tilting away as the system responded instantly to the command. The bar, the fractured avatars, the assistant¡¯s radiant form - all of it folded, dissolving into streaks of cascading light.


    They were out.

 Out of Nowhere

    The world was dissolving around her.


    Rosa clawed at the headset, but her fingers sank into it like mist, slipping through the edges of its form as though it had no substance. The rig hummed against her skull, a low, inhuman thrum, vibrating in her teeth, in her bones. She pulled harder. It would not come off.


    ff


    vvvvvvvpppsss¡­


    A sound - thin and needling - then stretching, unraveling, stuttering and grinding like a hard drive on the verge of catastrophic failure.


    gggggggggggggg¡­


    A synthetic growl, raw as feedback warping, distorting, layering over itself. It pulsed in uneven waves, as if struggling to form words but constantly slipping into a recursive malfunction.


    The image before her eyes juddered, or maybe her vision was failing. A sea of grey swept in.


    Endless hiss¡­


    ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss¡­


    As it thinned away again, or as her vision cleared, a windswept landscape stretched out before her, grey and endless. Heather and gorse, coarse grass, and trees - insubstantial, grey.


    She gasped, and the world peeled back.


    The outline of a cottage emerged from the fog, weathered stone rough with lichen like old scars. The door stood open - just slightly.


    She was not supposed to be here.


    She tore at the rig again, nails scraping plastic, metal - then something else.


    The simulation rippled, and suddenly hands were on her wrists.


    Cold. Too many fingers.


    "No - no, no, no - "


    A bird took flight, black wings slashing through the mist - silent, as if the air itself had swallowed the sound.


    As she gasped the world lurched.


    A chair - its legs dug into the wooden floor like an anchor against some unseen current. A table covered in scrawls - frantic, looping marks, a mind trying to trap a thought that refused to be caught.


    She knew - knew - if she looked, she would understand.


    But the hands tightened.


    And the walls began to whisper.


    She couldn''t move. She couldn¡¯t breathe.


    The whispers curled into words she should not know - a litany, a revelation.


    "Here is where you belong."


    The world fractured, a veil of nothingness splitting open.


    The fog pulled closer. The house dissolved.


    She was slipping.


    Her body burned with static, edges fraying, as if she were being unmade - as if she had never truly been real.


    "Let me go."


    She fell into reality, gasping, choking on air that felt too sharp, too solid. Her skin buzzed, her bones aching as though they had been reshaped on the way out.


    The real world slammed back into place.


    Rosa yanked off the VR rig, her hands trembling. The pressure on her skull vanished, leaving behind a faint, ghostly tightness - like the weight of the headset still clung to her. Her mouth was dry. Her pulse throbbed behind her eyes.


    Beside her, Selina had already pulled off her own gear, and was blinking as if she had just surfaced from deep water. She pressed her fingers against her temples, wincing slightly.


    "Okay." She looked worried as she scrubbed her hands over her face, pushing her hair back. "Okay, that was¡­"


    She didn¡¯t finish. Just reached for the water bottles stacked beside them and tossed one to Rosa before unscrewing her own.


    Rosa caught it clumsily. Her coordination was still off, her fingers tingling with the phantom sensations of virtual textures. As the cool plastic met her skin, it felt odd - too solid, too real. She forced herself to uncap the bottle and drink, the water crisp and grounding.


    Selina took a deep gulp, then rolled her shoulders, twisting her neck. Her leg bounced, restless, a quick jitter she didn¡¯t seem aware of. "Are we going to talk about what just happened, or do we both need a minute to¡­¡±


    "That was wrong," Rosa interrupted, voice hoarse. "That whole thing. It¡­" She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if that might help reorient her senses. "I knew Infinity NexUs had layers, but that wasn¡¯t just a layer. It was a¡­"


    "Mess," Selina supplied, flexing her fingers as if testing that they still belonged to her. ¡°But¡­¡±


    Rosa nodded. "And Dolphin¡¯s Barncar!"


    Selina grimaced, rubbing at her arms as if shaking off a lingering chill. "Of course. A retro-cool hacker dive with a suspiciously welcoming vibe? Might as well have had a neon sign saying Trap This Way." She stared at Rosa, with a look of concern.


    Rosa dragged a hand down her face. The world still felt unsteady, like she hadn¡¯t fully shaken off the simulation. She blinked hard, trying to rid herself of the afterimage of fog and digital sleet.


    Selina opened her mouth, but Rosa spoke first. "Dolphin¡¯s Barncar¡­ I can¡¯t get past it. How does a passage from a decades-old book predict what happened in there? You must have noticed the assistant¡¯s eyes."


    Selina¡¯s reply was terse. "Yeah¡­," she muttered, shaking her head. "I take your point. It''s weird. But¡­"


    She took a few steps, testing her balance, then gave up and leaned against the desk.


    Then, after a beat, Rosa said, almost to herself, "Ulikah¡¯s."


    Selina blinked. "What?"


    "Ulikah¡¯s," Rosa repeated, staring out the window, brow furrowed. "I saw it. In the adscreen. That flickering mess at the edge of the court. Just for a second."


    Rosa¡¯s pulse kicked up. "Did you see it? I swear there was a wine glass in there too."


    Selina nodded slowly. "It glitched in, then out. I thought I imagined it, but¡­ yeah." She exhaled, rubbing her forehead. "If Infinity NexUs is built on predictive algorithms, it¡¯s probably feeding us references it thinks we expect - stitching together fragments from our memories, stray thoughts, even things we''ve read." She hesitated, her fingers tapping idly against the desk. "Maybe it was pulling from our expectations? But that Auditant thing¡­" She trailed off, shaking her head. "That felt¡­ different."


    Rosa stared down at the bottle in her hands, rolling it between her palms. "At least it let us out."


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Did it?" Selina muttered. ¡°Look, I need to¡­¡±


    ¡°Georgie!¡± Rosa¡¯s voice lifted. ¡°Where''ve you been?¡± The fox loped into the room, his rust-colored coat catching the molten glow of the setting sun that poured through the glass wall. His paws barely made a sound against the floor, but Rosa welcomed his return, his presence a tether to something familiar, something real.


    Rosa crouched, her hands immediately tangling in his fur, seeking comfort in the warmth of his body. Georgie tolerated it with a quiet huff, his nose twitching as he scented the air. But Selina barely noticed.


    A dozen thoughts screamed for her attention, fighting to be said all at once. Her mind twisted around half-formed words tangling in her throat. What happened next gave her the help she needed.


    The temperature in the room seemed to plummet, a static charge prickling along Rosa¡¯s skin. Georgie froze mid-step, his pupils blown wide, ears flattening as a low, uneasy whine slipped from his throat. The lights flickered - just once, a brief stutter - and then the space near the desk ripped open.


    Pixels of light scintillated in the air, seeming to fragment and recombine, before a wet, organic pop echoed through the room. Suddenly, he was there.


    Rowan¡¯s black fur gleamed like it had been freshly rendered, the sheen sharp and slick, as if yanked from another reality mid-frame. His breath came in jagged bursts, visible in the shafts of evening light as curling wisps of vapor. His limbs twitched with micro-adjustments, muscles recalibrating like a puppet remembering its own strings. His amber eyes scanned the room.


    Then the world lagged.


    The evening light thickened, smearing like slow-spilled honey, dust motes hanging in syrupy suspension. The twitch of Georgie¡¯s tail flowed in slow motion, like anemone fronds in water. Selina¡¯s voice dragged, her words drawn out, ¡°Rowowowwwww¡­¡±


    And then, in a split second, time snapped back. Georgie unfreezing only to re-flinch in perfect repetition, Rosa¡¯s fingers slipping free of his fur before re-entangling, the moment unraveling and redoing itself as if reality had second-guessed its choices. Rowan jolted forward an inch, as if some unseen force had corrected his placement.


    The black macaque¡¯s fingers flexed against the floor, the matte surface making them glitch - only for a moment, like the world itself was struggling to decide if he belonged here. Then his gaze locked onto Rosa. His lips peeled back in a slow, mechanical baring of teeth - slow and deliberate. A corrupt file loading.


    A low, inhuman modulation vibrated in his throat - half growl, half distorted feedback.


    Rosa recoiled, nearly fumbling the bottle still clutched in her hand. "He just¡­" Her voice cracked, her brain tripping over itself. "He just appeared. Out of thin air!"


    She scrambled backward, Georgie pressing against her legs, his ears still pinned flat. Her pulse throbbed in her temple as she scanned Rowan¡¯s rigid form, the aftershocks of his arrival still rippling through the air.


    "That¡¯s not possible," she breathed, shaking her head. "That¡¯s not possible." But even as she said it, the weight of something half-formed pressed at the edges of her thoughts.


    Her mind flashed back to the shed - the way they¡¯d searched every inch of it, found no trace of him. No signs of a struggle. No clues.


    Had he - had this happened before?


    Had Rowan disappeared the same way he¡¯d just appeared?


    She turned to Selina, words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "That would explain it, wouldn¡¯t it? Why we never found anything in the garden? He didn¡¯t leave, he just - he just wasn¡¯t there anymore."


    Selina had been standing stock-still, watching Rowan like she expected him to pixelate out of existence again at any second. But as Rosa spoke, something in her expression twitched.


    "Rosa," she said sharply.


    Rosa barely registered her tone, too wrapped up in her own spiraling train of thought. "This is why we couldn¡¯t figure out how he got out - there was no ¡®how.¡¯ There was no means of exit, because¡­"


    "Rosa!"


    Something in Selina¡¯s voice cut through. Rosa snapped her head up, frowning.


    Selina exhaled sharply, then finally - spilled it.


    "You did the same thing," she said, her voice edged with something between disbelief and unease. "Just now. When we logged out."


    Rosa blinked. "What?"


    "You weren¡¯t there when I took the rig off." Selina¡¯s fingers drummed once against the desk, an anxious, restless movement. "You weren¡¯t anywhere." She shook her head, as if trying to make sense of the words even as she said them. "And then - just like him - you appeared."


    Rowan shifted his weight, rolling back onto his haunches. Then, suddenly, he leapt toward the window, pressing a palm against the glass as if testing its solidity. His fingers splayed, and his breath fogged the surface.


    A low, warning snarl came from Georgie. His hackles rose, making him look larger than he was. When Rowan didn¡¯t react, the fox took a hesitant step forward, his stance rigid, muscles coiled.


    "You didn¡¯t just log out, Rosa," Selina said. "You¡­ came back."


    Rosa let out a sharp breath - half a laugh, half a sound of pure incredulity. "No," she said immediately. "That¡¯s - that¡¯s not what happened."


    Selina just looked at her.


    Rosa shook her head harder, as if sheer force could unravel Selina¡¯s words before they took root. "That¡¯s ridiculous. I was in VR, and then I logged off, like normal. You must have - have missed me getting up or¡­ "


    "You weren¡¯t there," Selina repeated, voice flat. "And then - just like him - you appeared.¡±


    Rosa opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her stomach twisted, the disbelief curdling into something colder, something worse.


    "That sensation when she woke - wrong. No. Just cybersickness. Just immersion lag.


    But¡­


    Her fingers tightened around the bottle in her hands.


    Rowan¡¯s fingers scraped softly against the glass before he turned his head, his eyes locking onto Georgie this time. His body stilled. The fox froze too, their gazes locked, something ancient passing between the two animals.


    If she hadn¡¯t been in the room when Selina logged off¡­ if she had appeared the way Rowan just had¡­


    Her mind lurched through the implications, grasping at something solid, something logical.


    A dull ache crept up the back her head.


    "What does that mean?" she murmured, half to herself.


    No answer came.


    The room felt still, charged, like the air before a lightning strike.


    Her grip slackened, the bottle rolling against her palm.


    If Rowan had vanished from the shed without a trace - if she had just¡­ been somewhere else¡­


    A slow, cold realization coiled through her.


    Had she¡­


    Her mind clawed for an escape route, a distraction - anything to shove this impossible thought aside before it took hold. She exhaled sharply, pressing her thumb against the ridges of the bottle cap, feeling the resistance, the slight give of plastic. Real. Real. The cold weight in her palm. The faint crinkle when she squeezed it. Focus on that. Not on...


    Not on what it meant. Not on the unraveling logic, the creeping sense that the boundaries of reality weren¡¯t as firm as she¡¯d believed. Not on the terrifying possibility that she¡­


    No.


    Selina watched quietly, giving Rosa time.


    The silence of the house felt heavy. Rosa latched onto the bottle again, grounding herself in its texture, its physicality. Infinity NexUs still clung to her, tangled up in the static fuzz of cybersickness.


    The black macaque turned away from the window and sprang with effortless grace up onto Rosa''s slate desk, the smooth surface rippling with faint pulses of light in response to the weight of his feet. The ultra-slim monitor slid up from the edge, flickering to life with the familiar image of her R-Gen firewall. The dramatic, slow-motion hero stood with arms folded, his gaze one of smoldering intensity.


    Rosa watched mechanically as Rowan tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes fixed on the screen. There was no urgency in his movements, no agitation - just a quiet, deliberate focus.


    Selina glanced between them, frowning. "What is he doing?" she muttered, as if expecting the macaque to answer. Rowan didn¡¯t react to their confusion. Instead, he reached out, one careful hand pressing against the edge of the monitor, as if granting permission.


    Then, the hero on-screen blinked - his smirk faltering for the briefest moment before the image stuttered. At the periphery of the screen, tiny pixelated figures gathered.


    The tiny monkeys emerged in clusters, their chittering bodies forming jagged, erratic shapes as they scuttled closer. R-Gen turned, cracking his knuckles. Rosa jumped up and hurried to the desk. ¡°Not again.¡±


    Selina¡¯s eyes narrowed at Rowan. ¡°Did he cause that?¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t answer right away. Her pulse was still racing, her mind teetering on the edge of something she wasn¡¯t ready to confront. But as she stared at the screen - at the tiny pixelated monkeys creeping toward R-Gen - they were something immediate, something tangible.


    Selina let out a slow breath. ¡°Well, at least this makes some kind of sense.¡±


    Rosa huffed a short laugh, barely more than an exhale. It didn¡¯t make sense, not really - but it was easier than the alternative.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered, stepping closer to the desk. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with this first.¡±


    The firewall figure lashed out, delivering a sweeping kick that sent a handful of monkeys flying - but more took their place. Instead of simply swarming, they moved with unnatural coordination, clustering together, their limbs locking and twisting like puzzle pieces until¡­


    ¡°Oh, goodness no.¡±


    The tiny figures had coalesced, their forms merging into a singular, colossal entity - a giant monkey, its pixelated fur shifting like a screen on the verge of static collapse. It towered over the digital hero, a monstrous amalgamation of writhing simian bodies. With one massive hand, it swatted R-Gen aside, sending him tumbling in a flurry of glitched-out pixels.


    Rosa leaned in next to Rowan. Her hands hovered over the controls. ¡°I can¡­¡±


    ¡°Run an antivirus?¡± Selina asked, her own pulse audible in her voice. ¡°Because now would be a great time.¡±


    Georgie, the fox, let out a low growl from beneath the desk. His ears flattened. He knew something was wrong beyond the screen. Rosa leaned closer, ready to deploy countermeasures - but then¡­


    Rowan turned on the edge of the desk. His dark eyes gleamed, still watching the screen intently. And then - he reached out.


    His small fingers curled gently over Rosa¡¯s wrist. A deliberate gesture. A command without words.


    Rosa hesitated. ¡°Rowan, what¡­¡±


    The giant pixel-monkey turned its glowing eyes toward them, and then the firewall shattered, the remnants dissolving like ash. The pixelated form pushed inward, its jagged edges smoothing, resolving into something sleeker, more streamlined, before slipping deeper into the system. The screen returned to Rosa''s desktop.


    Rosa exhaled sharply, staring at Rowan. ¡°You wanted this?¡±


    Rowan didn¡¯t blink. Didn¡¯t flinch. He simply met her gaze with unshaken certainty.


    Selina muttered under her breath. ¡°You better have a good reason, monkey.¡±


    A sharp chime interrupted them.


    A file appeared on the desktop.

 Reality Error

    Rosa¡¯s eyes widened as she read LumiGard YBM.


    She stared at the file icon, her pulse quickening. Then a string of text ran across her screen.


    Subject: New Priority Data Detected


    Before she could react, a second string appeared.


    High-confidence alert: Cross-referenced terms indicate direct connection to Gamalial Jonas.


    Rosa shook her head, giving Selina a look.


    Selina raised an eyebrow. "Now it¡¯s interesting."


    Rowan perched like a lost shadow on the edge of the desk. His dark, intelligent eyes tracked the moving type, but he made no sound.


    Another message.


    Significant terms detected: ''Infinity NexUs,'' ''LumiGard,'' ''Van Der Lekh,'' ''monkeys.'' Querying relevance¡­


    Then the screen exploded.


    Lines of type bloomed outward in a rapid, uncontrolled cascade, spreading in an accelerating wave, each new string birthing another in a frenzied multiplication. Rosa yanked her hand away from the mouse as if it had burned her.


    "What the¡­" she gasped.


    Selina leaned in, eyes wide. "Is he doing that?"


    Rowan flinched, grabbing the edge of the desk with both hands, his breath coming in a sharp, chittering exhale. The bright flashes reflected in his pupils, his head tilting rapidly as he tried to track the impossible flood of information.


    Words, words, words flooded the display, layering over each other, cramming every inch of space with notifications.


    Recording source identified: Passive AI listening device.


    Location: Private residence, Gamalial Jonas.


    Rosa frowned. "Wait - is this a domestic AI assistant recording?"


    Selina¡¯s expression darkened. "You mean one of those smart-home things? Always listening?"


    And still, LumiGard wasn¡¯t finished. The information kept multiplying, blooming outward like an unchecked virus, filling the screen with relentless annotations, as if the AI was trying to drown them in its findings.


    Trigger detected: Conversation contained phrase resembling activation command. Device recorded and uploaded the interaction to cloud storage.


    Selina let out a slow breath. "So they were talking near an open mic."


    Rosa nodded, scanning the tide of data. "And LumiGard pulled it because¡­ look at this - ''cross-referenced with priority subjects.''"


    Selina read over her shoulder. "So the moment they mentioned any of this - Infinity NexUs, LumiGard itself - it got flagged?"


    A creeping unease moved up Rosa¡¯s spine. She looked around her own room, her eyes taking in her own smart gear. Then, suddenly, the flood of information vanished, leaving just the original file.


    Rosa inhaled deeply and double clicked.


    A video. Two figures in a dimly lit space talking on a split-screen with a third. The resolution sharpened.


    Roan and Mist and Gamalial Jonas.


    Rowan¡¯s posture changed the moment the video loaded. He leaned in, pupils dilating. A soft chirrup escaped him - questioning, almost hesitant. His gaze darted between Rosa and the image of Gum. His lips parted slightly, a breathless stillness overtaking him.


    Selina inhaled sharply. "That¡¯s a private conversation."


    The monitor flickered as the video loaded, the buffering wheel spinning for a moment before stabilising. Roan and Mist sat close to each other, their faces half-lit by the glow of their screen. On the other side of the split feed, Gamalial - Gum - was seated in what looked like a personal office. His hands rested on a table, fingers occasionally tapping as he spoke.


    "This feels wrong," Selina murmured. "Like eavesdropping."


    Rosa nodded but didn¡¯t look away. The conversation unfolding on the screen wouldn¡¯t let them.


    Gum was leaning toward the camera, his face momentarily distorting as the feed adjusted exposure. "I¡¯ve read all his books," he said, his voice measured. "Scanned them, even ran pattern analysis." A pause. "And we''ve been ripped off."


    Mist frowned, arms crossed. "What?"


    Roan exchanged a glance with her before turning back to the screen. "That¡¯s ridiculous. Why would anyone bother?"


    Gum sat back, fingers tapping more irritably. "It¡¯s not just that he gets things right - he gets them too right. Details no one could have. Things that were never reported, things even we never talked about. But somehow, they show up in his work."


    Rosa maximised the window of the recording, her eyes fixed on Jonas¡¯ sober expression.


    Gum exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "His books just¡­ appear. No interviews, no biography, no trace of him anywhere except the finished product. He doesn¡¯t interact, he just writes. As if that¡¯s all he does."


    Mist snorted. "Some people are reclusive."


    "Reclusive is one thing," Gum said, leaning forward again, voice lowering. "But his Truth and Beauty series describes exactly what happened to us in VR. Exact events. Conversations that happened in private. Things only someone with direct access to the simulation - or to us - could possibly know."


    Selina looked at Rosa. Ro''s black crest stood up high.


    "And then there¡¯s his artwork," Gum continued. "3D renders - a bit basic and dated now. Just like the early immersive environments the 84LDY produced." He exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "I¡¯m not saying anything definitive - but if you had to design a system to write a thorough record, disguise it as junk fiction and never leave a human trace¡­ it¡¯d look an awful lot like him."


    Roan frowned, typed something on his device, and said, ¡°Look, A Querulous Quest is all online.¡± He copied the first page into an AI assistant and read aloud:


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "An AI is unlikely to have written this. There are clear indicators of significant human input¡­ ¡®dramatically descriptive¡¯ in places¡­ full of whimsical embellishments.¡¯"


    He turned the screen toward Gum. ¡°See? If Van Der Lekh were an AI, his writing would feel too clean, too structured. But this?¡± He tapped the passage. ¡°This isn¡¯t machine logic. It¡¯s lived-in. Intimate. Like he¡¯s been there.¡±


    Mist smirked. ¡°You think he¡¯s a knohm?¡±


    Roan glanced at her. ¡°I¡¯m saying it reads like memory, not imagination.¡±


    Gum folded his arms. ¡°Or a record.¡±


    Mist leaned in. ¡°Okay, now you¡¯re both making it sound worrying.¡±


    Roan scrolled back up and read aloud:


    "Between the two rivers, in the towering, bulgesome city of Tullgotha, there lived a small, neatly-bearded knohm named Razzles."


    He scoffed. ¡°Bulgesome! What AI says bulgesome?¡± Crossing his arms, he hesitated. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s not an AI, but¡­ what if he¡¯s a hacker? Someone with access to ClearView¡¯s Infinity NexUs records?¡±


    Mist arched a brow. ¡°So your theory is that he¡¯s some rogue cyber-genius leaking secrets through childlike fantasy novels?¡±


    Selina paused the recording. ¡°You still okay watching this?¡±


    Rosa breathed out slowly. ¡°We''ve watched this much, we might as well finish it.¡±


    Roan was talking. ¡°This book all set in your world, Mist.¡±


    ¡°Don''t remind me. And don''t forget I was sleeping when that rat used my dreams to make it. The thing creeped me out.¡±


    ¡°At least it''s not out here stalking you in real life,¡± Gum said. ¡°I''ve got actual, virtual monkeys on my back.¡±


    Mist leaned back, arms crossed, her expression sharp with calculation. ¡°You know what you should do?¡± she said, her tone deceptively casual. ¡°Sue them.¡±


    Roan and Gum both looked at her.


    She tilted her head toward the screen. ¡°M.A.S.S., RealityStep, or whoever they really are. They stole your tech. You said so yourself.¡±


    Gum exhaled sharply through his nose. ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± Mist leaned forward. ¡°They broke into your home, got their hands on the 84¡­ Baldy.¡± She gestured at the screen. ¡°They''re just getting away with it.¡±


    Gum shook his head. ¡°No.¡±


    Mist raised an eyebrow.


    He leaned back, rubbing his temples. ¡°Even if they did - allegedly - steal the Baldy, we wouldn¡¯t touch it.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡±


    Rosa and Selina watched in silence.


    Gum gave a humorless laugh. ¡°You really think ClearView would want to dig all that up?¡±


    Mist frowned. ¡°Why not?¡±


    Gum exhaled. ¡°Because when we ran our game on the Baldy, four of us ended up in comas, one got arrested and one nearly died.¡±


    Silence.


    Roan sat up straighter. Mist¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but Rosa saw the slight stiffening of her posture, the way her fingers tucked her hair behind her ear.


    Gum¡¯s voice was quieter now. ¡°If we take them to court, we¡¯d have to admit we pushed the limits past safety, past sanity. It''d look like we don¡¯t even understand our own tech. You think ClearView wants that on public record? They''re already terrified of what¡¯ll be uncovered in their old Dolphin¡¯s premises.¡± He gave a short, bitter shake of his head. ¡°No.¡±


    Mist held his gaze for a long moment. Then she leaned back, drumming her fingers against the table. ¡°Huh.¡±


    Gum sighed, rolling his shoulders. ¡°So no, we¡¯re not suing them. And we¡¯re definitely not digging up the past. It took years for that stalker monkey to leave me alone.¡±


    Suddenly, Rowan stiffened. His head snapped up, body taut with alertness. His breath came fast, nostrils flaring. Then, without hesitation, he leapt from Rosa¡¯s desk in a blur of black fur, landing with a light thud on the floor.


    Rosa watched as he darted toward the front of the house, his movements urgent, almost frantic. Without thinking, she pushed back her chair and hurried after him.


    By the time she reached the hallway, Rowan was halfway up the front door, his face pressed against the glass panel as he peered outside. His whole body was tense, muscles coiled beneath his sleek fur. Rosa followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary - just the dimly lit drive, the flickering glow of a distant security light.


    ¡°What is it?¡± she whispered.


    Rowan didn¡¯t shift his gaze. His lips parted slightly, his breath short, nostrils twitching as if scenting something beyond Rosa¡¯s perception. He shifted his weight, his posture caught between caution and the urge to bolt.


    Rosa squinted, trying to pick out whatever had set him off. The shadows stretched long under the security lights, unmoving. She exhaled, stepping back.


    Whatever it was, she couldn¡¯t see it.


    She lingered a moment longer, then abruptly turned away, shaking her head to dispel the unease.


    Onscreen, Roan was saying, "A black macaque. It was just¡­ there. Watching us."


    He was explaining what had happened in Dolphin¡¯s. Rosa sat back down beside Selina.


    Gum inhaled sharply. For a moment, the frame froze - likely a lag in the transmission at the time of recording - but when it resumed, his expression had changed. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Now do you believe me?¡±


    Mist clearly hadn''t heard the story before. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Gum told me a black monkey appeared to him a few times starting, what¡­¡±


    ¡°About twenty years ago,¡± Gum cut in. ¡°Not long after I got married. Before ever we tried our game out. He thought I was seeing things,¡± he added accusingly, nodding at Roan.


    Gum exhaled sharply. ¡°Look, I saw what happened when we crashed the simulation. The NPCs resisted deletion. Not just clinging on in corrupted files - fighting for survival, rewriting themselves, latching onto whatever data fragments they could find.¡±


    Roan frowned. ¡°But that was inside the sim.¡±


    ¡°Yes! But think about what RealityStep is working on - Liberants. AI programs that can physically manifest.¡± He looked around at them. ¡°What if something in our old system laid the groundwork? What if the capuchins learned how to do it?¡±


    Mist narrowed her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re saying virtual monkeys escaped into real life?¡±


    Gum nodded. ¡°What if¡­¡± he hesitated, then pressed on, ¡°...they weren¡¯t the first?¡±


    Roan shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re suggesting a virtual macaque monkey left the simulation that hadn''t yet happened twenty years ago. That¡¯s¡­¡±


    ¡°...Not impossible!¡± Gum snapped. He leaned forward. ¡°You know how broken that system was. We ran simulations nested inside simulations - different timelines clashing, overlapping, rewriting each other. Who¡¯s to say something didn¡¯t slip through? Time doesn¡¯t work the same way in there. Maybe that macaque got out - earlier - and got stuck here.¡±


    Roan still looked doubtful, but he didn¡¯t argue.


    Gum exhaled. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is, I saw what virtual characters were willing to do to survive. So tell me - what makes it impossible?¡±


    Selina gave Rosa a concerned look.


    ¡°Fairytales,¡± Roan scowled. ¡°There¡¯s no evidence RealityStep have actually ¡®liberated¡¯ anything yet.¡±


    ¡°Then why did that woman say that the capuchins were taken to a ¡®research facility¡¯ along with the macaques? Why have the things got our names? Why are they the exact same monkeys as the Cebus Brethren in Tullgotha? I spent ages in that insane simulation, the things followed me, I was their Primate! Read that hacker-slash-AI¡¯s record of it if you don''t believe me. Ananth Van Der flaming Lekh got it all down in his kids¡¯ book like some stupid quest!¡±


    Rosa glanced at the bottom of the screen. There were only a few seconds left of the recording. Gum¡¯s face, half-shadowed in the uneven lighting, remained frozen in an expression of barely contained outrage. Then, with a digital pop, the video cut out. The screen returned to the familiar interface of Rosa¡¯s workstation.


    For a moment, neither of them spoke.


    Then Selina straightened up and flexed her back. ¡°Well.¡± A pause. ¡°That was a lot. Is Rowan alright?¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t respond immediately. Her eyes lingered on the screen, the last words of the recording still reverberating in her mind.


    ¡°Virtual monkeys? He can''t really believe that, surely?¡±


    Before Selina could answer, the screen convulsed - a jagged ripple distorting the display. A burst of static tore through the speakers, sharp and grating, before cutting to an unnatural silence.


    A sharp, piercing alarm cry shattered the silence. A sound so primal, so utterly wired into the deepest recesses of animal instinct, that Rosa felt the hairs on her arms rise. Rowan¡¯s scream rang through the house - high, abrupt, unmistakably urgent.


    Georgie sprang to his feet in an instant. His ears snapped forward, hackles bristling. He took a single step toward the door, then froze, his nose twitching. A low, uncertain whine escaped his throat.


    The entire room seemed to hold itself on the edge of a knife, waiting for the next moment to decide what followed.


    Selina gripped her friend''s arm tightly. "Rosa¡­?"


    Then, a voice rose from the speakers.


    "Get¡­"


    It was Rosa¡¯s own voice, stripped of warmth, detached, as if surgically removed from some past conversation.


    "...down. They. Are. Cuh¡­"


    The words elongated, distorted, a sickly warping of her usual tone, as if magnetic tape had melted and stretched under heat.


    "...coming."


    The final word landed in a brutal mismatch - like a puppet mimicking speech, stitched together from stolen fragments. A ransom note of sound.


    Rowan let out another chattering alarm call and scampered back into the main room. Georgie gave a single, sharp bark.


    Selina stiffened. "Okay. This is all officially unnerving."


    For a long, breathless moment, no one moved.


    Georgie growled low in his throat.


    Then the house plunged into darkness.

 Over the Edge

    Rosa and Selina peered about as if the reason for the darkness should be obvious. Tiny coloured glows lingered - the router¡¯s LED, the faint pinpricks of standby lights on dormant devices, scattered like distant stars.


    Selina said, ¡°That''s not a power cut.¡±


    ¡°Not a normal one.¡± Rosa forced herself to blink, as if that would reset reality. The usual low hum of the climate control persisted, steady and undisturbed, yet the air itself felt different - charged, expectant, as if the house itself was bracing for something.


    A soft click reached her ears.


    She shot to her feet. The sound had been subtle, almost polite - a mechanical whisper rather than the sharp snap of a deadbolt engaging. Her stomach twisted.


    ¡°Was that the door?¡± Selina muttered.


    Rosa went to check. From the hall doorway, she could just make out the keypad by the entrance - its tiny LED, once green, now a solid, unwavering red. Lock engaged.


    Selina had her phone, thumb fumbling over the screen. ¡°Wait. Look.¡±


    Both their screens had lit up with new messages. Rosa¡¯s pulse quickened as she read the latest entry:


    Hide. Now.


    The sender was unknown.


    They could hear Georgie, at home in the gloom, claws against tile. Then the sound of a soft, knowing huff. Rosa felt something pull at her hand. A firm but urgent grip.


    ¡°Rowan,¡± she whispered. The black macaque was a barely perceptible silhouette against the deeper shadows. His eyes gleamed, locked onto hers, his fingers tightening around her wrist. He tugged her, insistent, pulling her back toward the main room.


    The macaque made a low, rolling vocalisation - a warning.


    Outside, a car door clicked shut. Then another. Quiet, calculated - no headlights, no engine rumble. Electric.


    Rosa tensed. A shadow stretched across the front drive, warping as it moved. Then another. Beams of pale light licked at the house¡¯s edges, flashlights flicking on only after they had reached the door.


    A brief, hushed exchange.


    Then¡­


    A dull thump.


    Then a crash. Rosa flinched as the front door gave way.


    Rowan tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her sharply in the direction of the sofa. Instinct kicked in, and she followed without question.


    Selina grabbed Rosa¡¯s shoulder, her voice in her ear. ¡°We should run.¡±


    But Rosa shook her head. They were past that. Behind the sofa.


    Heavy boots crossed the slate floor. Two sets of footsteps - slow, deliberate. The men moved with the confidence of professionals. No hesitation, no wasted movement.


    A sharp vibration in Rosa¡¯s palm. Her phone screen flared briefly in the dark.


    Do not move.


    She barely resisted the urge to recoil. LumiGard. It was somehow watching, directing.


    In the hall, a flashlight beam knifed through the dark, slicing the stillness with surgical precision. It traced the polished slate, swept up the floating staircase, caught the edges of furniture in quick, clinical swipes.


    A moment of eerie quiet stretched as the intruders assessed the space. One of the men hesitated at the base of the stairs, head tilted slightly as if listening, scanning the upper level with cold deliberation. The other peeled away, stepping into the sitting room.


    His movements were slow, practiced. Not the hesitant shuffle of someone unfamiliar with the space, but the deliberate prowl of a man who had done this before. His boots moved without urgency, scuffing softly against the floor. The beam of his flashlight cut through the gloom, dissecting the shadows in harsh, methodical arcs.


    Rosa pressed herself flatter against the floor, her breath shallow. Rowan clung to her side, muscles taut beneath his fur. Selina, next to them, barely shifted, but Rosa could feel the suppressed tremor in her limbs. The light swept closer.


    What if this was all for nothing?


    The thought needled its way through her terror, whispering at the edges of her mind. They¡¯d risked everything - broken into M.A.S.S., fled across the country, put themselves in the crosshairs of people who very clearly knew how to kill - all to save monkeys that might not even be real.


    Her heart pounded harder, not just with fear but with the sickening weight of uncertainty.


    She tried to push the thought away, but it slithered back, persistent. If the monkeys weren¡¯t real - if they were nothing but patterns in the code, digital ghosts wrapped in illusion - then what had she actually done?


    Her pulse stuttered.


    The man loomed just beyond the curve of the sofa, his silhouette a shifting void against the faint spill of moonlight through the windows. His breath was steady but controlled, a measured inhale behind the fabric of his mask.


    Rosa barely dared to breathe, her body felt heavy. The flashlight beam swiped dangerously close, sweeping the space where the floor met the base of the sofa. Dust motes swirled in the artificial light, catching like static in the still air.


    Then - he stopped.


    A long, dreadful pause.


    And then¡­


    She wasn¡¯t there anymore.


    The world lurched, dissolving into misty moorland, cold stone. A table covered with scribbled eyes - staring, unblinking. The weight of unseen worlds pressing in, watching.


    Somewhere, in the real world, thick-soled, reinforced boots pivoted slightly, and Rosa heard the whisper of fabric as the man adjusted his stance. The sound was terrifying in its mundanity.


    The flashlight beam lifted, angling toward the ceiling, then sliced sideways across the room in a slow, deliberate arc. Selina tracked its movement by the shifting glow on the underside of the sofa, waiting for the inevitable moment it would come sweeping back.


    The scent of the man hit her. Not sweat - something colder. Antiseptic. Gun oil. The faint tang of something synthetic. It made Selina¡¯s stomach turn, her body scream to move. Rosa¡¯s hand tightened around Selina¡¯s wrist.


    Rowan, pressed low against Rosa¡¯s side, his body trembling - not fear, but something close to it. He was listening. Watching. Calculating.


    Rosa had to focus, had to stay present - but at the edges of her mind, the mist thickened, clinging to her thoughts like a parasite. In the haze, she saw again - the cottage, the dim interior, the table covered in frantic, overlapping carvings. Wild and uneven - scrawled in a language of scratches and splinters


    Then a distinct clink.


    The man stiffened. His flashlight jerked toward the far side of the room. Something in the kitchen.


    The man muttered something under his breath. A beat of hesitation - then he moved, following the noise toward the rear of the house.


    As his shadow vanished from sight, Rosa¡¯s phone vibrated in her hand, the light from the screen barely contained beneath her palm.


    Rear staircase. Now.


    Rosa gripped Selina¡¯s sleeve and shifted, barely daring to breathe. The home invader had gone that way. Rowan was already ahead, pulling them with unshakable urgency. His muscles were tense beneath his dark fur, every motion precise, controlled.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The man stood right there, at the far end of the kitchen, blocking the way to the tower, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim glow of the emergency lights. His head was tilted, listening, peering through the glass of the back door. Rosa¡¯s grip tightened on Selina¡¯s sleeve.


    Then he moved. Something had shifted. He flicked the lock, pushed the door open, and peered out.


    Silence. Then a rustle. His torchlight caught a flash of red fur vanishing into the dark. He exhaled sharply. ¡°Stupid fox.¡±


    The moment he stepped outside, Rowan moved. Quick and soundless, he slipped past the open door, pulling Rosa and Selina with him. They hurried for the tower stairs, vanishing into the gloom before the man even thought to turn back.


    Another vibration.


    Roof.


    The square tower aside the back door was where the house¡¯s modern transformation was most striking. The old stone walls met sleek glass panels, the space clean-lined and minimal. A narrow staircase hugged the side, ascending in sharp, angular turns.


    The second man would surely have made his way up the front staircase. He would search from the front of the house first. That gave them a window - small, but maybe enough.


    The wooden stairs creaked once under their weight. Rowan pulled Rosa¡¯s sleeve, his crest high in restless warning.


    Below, they heard the first man come back in from the garden, through the kitchen, prowling the lower floor.


    Rosa tried to control her thoughts as they ascended the last step to the landing that opened to the upper floor. They could hear muted sounds from the house invader searching the bedrooms.


    Rowan pulled. Up. Up the rest of the stairs to the tower roof.


    The night air struck them at once, crisp and edged with salt. Overhead, the night sky arched vast and electric with stars, their cold fire scattered like shards of crushed crystal. Wisps of cloud drifted in slow, spectral ribbons, their edges tinged with the faintest silver, as if the essence of the moon had rubbed onto them.


    The old silver mine chimney, repurposed into this lonely platform, stood sentinel against time, its stonework furrowed by wind and rain, each crack and crevice whispering of forgotten years.


    Beyond the house, the land unfurled in dark, gentle slopes, a patchwork of fields and hedgerows cast in the eerie glow of moonlight. Behind them, the garden lay in quiet contrast - its orderly beds fading into the wilder tangle beyond, where trees huddled at the rim of a wooded valley, their branches netted in shadow. And further still, the land fell away to the hidden cove, where the tide curled and uncurled against the shingle, a slow, endless murmur in the hush of the night.


    But below - movement.


    Through the high glass windows, the house¡¯s interior flickered with shifting light, the invader¡¯s flashlight slicing through the rooms as he made his way toward the rear.


    Then - he stepped back outside.


    Rosa gripped the edge of the parapet, pulse hammering. He wasn¡¯t leaving. He was checking. Searching more carefully. The glow of his flashlight swept across the terrace, creeping toward the garden.


    Rowan pressed close to her side, silent, watchful. The macaque made a low, breathy sound - barely more than a sigh, but full of meaning. He was waiting. Watching.


    Selina barely breathed. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± she whispered.


    Another vibration. Rosa¡¯s phone pulsed again.


    "Over the edge. Now."


    She read it twice, her mind rejecting it. Over the edge? That wasn¡¯t a plan - just a sheer drop.


    She glanced at Selina, who shook her head sharply. ¡°No way. Not happening.¡±


    Rowan made a low, warning cough. His dark eyes flicked to Rosa, then to the parapet.


    Rosa swallowed hard and crept to the edge. A narrow ledge ran along the outer wall - barely wider than a boot sole. The drop beneath it was sheer.


    Selina hissed under her breath. ¡°That¡¯s not a ledge. It''s barely wide enough to get a foot on.¡±


    Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy. Measured. Climbing.


    No time.


    Rowan moved. He sprang lightly onto the parapet, hesitated for the briefest second, then dropped over the edge.


    Rosa¡¯s heart lurched as she watched the macaque land with eerie precision, clinging to the brickwork. His long fingers gripped the cracks in the stone, his feet finding the tiny ledge with natural ease.


    He wasn¡¯t real. The thought slammed through her, cold and certain. None of this should have been real. Rowan was a program, a construct, a simulation of something that had never lived outside a machine. She told herself that - but looking at him now, she couldn¡¯t make herself believe it.


    He wasn¡¯t moving like code.


    He was waiting.


    Rosa turned to Selina. ¡°We have to.¡±


    Selina¡¯s mouth was a tight line. ¡°You first.¡±


    More footsteps. Close.


    Rosa swung her leg over. Gripped the parapet, hard. Her boot scraped the wall, searching - searching¡­ Nothing.


    Her stomach lurched. Air beneath her, nothing but air¡­ Then¡­ Contact.


    The ledge caught her weight, barely more than a sliver of stone. She pressed herself flat. The wall scraped her cheek, rough and unyielding. Rowan, inches away, watching


    Selina was right behind her, hands clamped white-knuckled on the parapet. She sucked in a sharp breath and moved. She swung over, dropping heavily. Her boots scraped loud against the stone, sending a scatter of dust down into the night.


    A flashlight beam knifed through the dark below picking out Georgie¡¯s enclosure and flaring over the surrounding trees.


    Rosa clenched her jaw, every muscle screaming as she fought to stay still. Selina pressed flat beside her, fingers clinging to the parapet. Rowan clung to the wall next to her, utterly motionless.


    The door to the roof whispered open, slow, deliberate. A pause. A sniff. Then a bootstep - directly toward them, slow, methodical. Dull, rubberized thuds against the worn surface, the hush of reinforced soles engineered for silence. The flashlight in his hand flared against the dark, a cold, synthetic glare sweeping the empty platform.


    Rosa felt the strain in her fingers, the rough stone biting through her jacket. Her breath felt too loud, her body too hot, as if every cell had become hyperaware of its own existence. Selina was rigid beside her, her fingers digging into the parapet, knuckles white against the dark.


    Rowan looked up at Rosa. His dark eyes reflected the night sky lights in fractured glints, as if his pupils contained tiny, shifting data streams.


    The man prowled forward, the soft creak of his tactical vest shifting as he moved.


    A gust of wind struck from the south, slamming into Selina and throwing her off balance. Her body wrenched sideways, too sudden - her grip faltered. Fingers scraped against stone, slipping. She teetered, gravity dragging her backward. A sharp, panicked sound caught in her throat as her foot skidded, desperate for purchase.


    Rosa¡¯s hand shot out, catching Selina¡¯s arm, just enough to steady her. Selina clung back on, her breath shuddering through clenched teeth.


    At the same moment, a rook exploded from the rooftop with a heavy thrash of wings, buffeted by the same gust that had nearly taken Selina. It clawed - a harsh, startled cry - and veered straight into the beam of the man¡¯s torch.


    He jerked back, startled, raising an arm as the bird wheeled into the night. Rosa barely dared to breathe. If not for that, he would surely have seen them, raised the alarm, and dragged them from the wall like children.


    Then, below¡­


    The distinct crunch of gravel underfoot. The second man, out of sight.


    ¡°You up there?¡± The voice crackled through an earpiece, tinny with compression.


    The man on the roof hesitated, the flashlight lowering by a fraction,


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he muttered. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    A static pop. A grunt of acknowledgment.


    Then - movement. The man on the roof took a slow step. Another. Then, without ceremony, he turned and retreated. The door clicked shut behind him.


    The silence that followed felt different. Denser. A void left behind by something dangerous.


    Rosa exhaled, and it felt like releasing a bomb.


    For a long moment, no one moved. The wind whispered along the stone, tugging at Rosa¡¯s loose hair.


    Rowan moved first. With eerie ease, he climbed back over the parapet, his long fingers gripping the stonework, his body flowing like water over the edge. Rosa followed, her muscles burning as she hauled herself up, her boots slipping against the uneven surface before she threw herself over, rolling onto the rooftop¡¯s surface with a sharp gasp.


    Selina came last. Her breath heavy as she fought for purchase, her legs trembling with exertion. Rosa reached out, grasping her wrist, and together they pulled until Selina tumbled onto the roof, cursing under her breath.


    They pressed themselves low against the stone, listening.


    Below, voices carried from the front of the house.


    ¡°All the power¡¯s off,¡± one of the men was saying. ¡°Nobody¡¯s been here for hours.¡±


    A second voice, rougher. ¡°Not buying it. Cars in the drive. Computer was still warm. Someone¡¯s been through here.¡±


    A long pause. The wind stirred the trees beyond the garden, a slow, restless whisper.


    Then the first man again, quieter this time. ¡°So we wait?¡±


    A scrape of boots against gravel. ¡°Yeah we wait!¡±


    A car door opened - but no engine followed.


    Rosa let out a breath she hadn¡¯t realized she was holding. Beside her, Selina exhaled a quiet, shaky laugh. ¡°Well,¡± she muttered. ¡°That was deeply unpleasant.¡±


    Rowan simply watched, unblinking. Waiting.


    After a few moments, Rosa crept down the suspended staircase, pressing her back against the wall. Selina was just behind her, barely breathing. The house was dark, the only light coming from the cockpit of the car outside.


    Through the partly open front door, Rosa could see two figures, one standing, the other in the car. Their voices carried in the still night.


    ¡°They¡¯re still inside,¡± one said. ¡°Phones haven¡¯t moved.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s grip tightened on her phone. They were tracking them.


    Something shifted outside near the gate - a quick, darting shape. Two sharp, greenish gleams glinted like polished marbles as torchlight caught them. In a flash, the shape bolted, a rust-red blur streaking across the driveway.


    ¡°It¡¯s that wretched fox again.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s screen lit up. LumiGard:


    Bluetooth monitor - mislead them.


    She nudged Selina and tilted the screen toward her.


    Selina¡¯s eyebrows twitched, but she gave a barely perceptible nod.


    ¡°They''re hiding somewhere. We just have to be thorough.¡± The voice was low, determined.


    Rowan sat at the top of the stairs, his golden eyes gleaming in the dark.


    Another silent message appeared on Rosa¡¯s screen:


    Give to Rowan.


    Without hesitation, the macaque leapt from the stair, dragged Rosa¡¯s smartwatch from her wrist and plunged his little hand into Selina¡¯s pocket, pulling out her earbuds. He then disappeared through the living room as silent as shadow.


    Rosa and Selina stared at each other, about to retreat back up the stairs, when a voice from outside hissed, ¡°Signals still in the house - hold on¡­¡±


    The man in the car angled his scanner.


    ¡°Rats! Couple of things just moved - heading away out the back. They ditched their phones.¡±


    A security light flared in the rear garden.


    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the fox,¡± one of the men muttered. ¡°It''s still out here. They¡¯re sneaking out the back.¡±


    LumiGard¡¯s message flickered onto their screens:


    Wait.


    The men stilled, listening.


    Then - snap. A deliberate sound from the garden.


    The standing man, sure now: ¡°¡­That¡¯s them.¡±


    Another LumiGard message:


    They chase Rowan.


    ¡°Come on,¡± the second man said. ¡°Signal¡¯s definitely moving.¡±


    Footsteps crunched as they moved toward the back.


    Another message appeared.


    Now.


    Selina didn¡¯t hesitate. She cracked the front door open, silent as a breath, and they slipped outside.


    Another message.


    Wait.


    The garden light was still glowing.


    The intruders were nowhere in sight.


    Another:


    Go.

 Whispers of Light

    Selina¡¯s hands shook as she jammed the key into the ignition, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The engine spluttered, caught, and roared to life, the sound startlingly loud in the night. Rosa yanked the passenger door shut.


    Neither of them spoke as Selina slammed the car into reverse, spinning them out onto the lane. Gravel spat against the wheel arches. The looming hedgerow, a black wall against the starless sky, blurred into a green-grey streak as she wrenched the car forward.


    Rosa twisted in her seat, peering through the rear window. Nothing moved among the skeletal trees. No telltale beams of headlights. But the feeling of pursuit clung to her like damp air.


    ¡°We should have grabbed more stuff,¡± Selina muttered, fingers white-knuckled on the wheel. ¡°Like, I don¡¯t know, evidence? Something to actually¡­¡±


    ¡°LumiGard has enough,¡± Rosa interrupted. She kept her eyes on the mirror. ¡°It''ll have what we need.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, right! So we trust the rogue AI hijacking everything around us?¡± Selina let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. ¡°Because that¡¯s worked out so well for us so far. We just got hunted through your home by armed men. Before that, we kicked off an AI deathmatch between the Infinity NexUs¡¯ assistant and the Barncar Auditant, which half the world has probably seen by now. And what was all of that for? To save a bunch of monkeys that - oh, wait - might not even be real. And, just to top everything off, I have to seriously consider the possibility that you might not be real either.¡± She gripped the wheel tighter, her voice dropping into something bitter and exhausted. ¡°Yeah. I feel great about trusting LumiGard.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t answer. They hit the main road, winding away from the house, away from the last fragile sense of normalcy. The road was empty, stretching ahead in eerie stillness. No streetlights. No houses. Just black trees pressing in on either side.


    Selina moaned. ¡°So where do we even go?¡±


    Rosa opened her mouth to answer, but had nothing. She folded her arms tightly, finally circling back to what worried her most. "You think I just vanished? Like, my actual body? And then popped back into existence?" She let out a strained laugh. "You must have - mis-seen it. Like, maybe I was still sitting there, but your brain - I don¡¯t know, failed to register me for a moment?"


    Selina¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change.


    Rosa exhaled sharply. "Okay, fine. Maybe something else happened. Maybe I slumped over, like deep-trance levels of immersion, and you thought I wasn¡¯t there because you weren¡¯t expecting me to be. Or, or - what if the VR rig interfered with your perception? Some kind of afterimage effect? You know how sometimes you see a bright light and it stays burned into your vision? Maybe the opposite happened - maybe some kind of optical illusion."


    Selina just raised an eyebrow.


    "Okay, fine," Rosa huffed, rubbing her temples. "Maybe it wasn¡¯t your eyes. What about... a timing issue? Maybe you logged off and there was a split-second delay between when you saw the room and when I actually disengaged. Like, a very bad desync. Or - or maybe I¡­"


    "Rosa."


    She shut up.


    Selina tilted her head. "I looked at your chair. It was empty. I stared at it. And then you appeared."


    Rosa swallowed. "That¡¯s not¡­" She stopped herself. Her mind felt like it had short-circuited, caught between instinctively rejecting the absurdity and the sheer weight of Selina¡¯s certainty.


    "It happened," Selina said simply.


    Rosa shook her head, but it wasn¡¯t in disagreement - it was just the only thing she could do.


    A noise then.


    Something like a breath stretched and warped. The infotainment screen flickered.


    Then, in the dash display, a keystroke.


    A single letter - in silence.


    A pause.


    Then another. Both women saw it.


    Not a word. Just stray, orphaned characters, appearing in stuttering flashes on the screen. M - A - then nothing, as if whatever was writing had hesitated, reconsidered. The letters dissolved, replaced by static crawling in slow waves.


    ¡°Now what?¡± Selina groaned, trying to keep her eyes on the road.


    The speakers clicked. A burst of sound. Not quite a voice - more like a thousand whispers collapsing into a breath.


    Then, buried beneath the distortion¡­


    What could almost be a monkey¡¯s scream.


    Rosa flinched.


    The screen rippled. Lines of text flickered - nonsense, symbols, the scrambled wreckage of a corrupted file. But in the mess, something was forming.


    A glimpse¡­


    S.


    Gone.


    For a fraction of a second, an image - no, a shadow - flickered into existence. Hunched, indistinct, shifting like a figure behind frosted glass.


    Another scream - closer this time, layered over a voice.


    ¡°¡­learning the truth¡­¡±


    The infotainment display spasmed. The letters reappeared, warped, doubling over themselves - S, S, S, S - multiplying like a corrupted file until they filled the screen.


    And suddenly¡­


    The video began.


    The car lurched as Selina tried to drive and watch. Headlights flared on the hedge as she swerved.


    A table. People. All at a steep angle on the screen as if recorded on a discarded device.


    Rosa sucked in a breath.


    The feed was smeared with digital artifacts, its details unnaturally blurred - yet the figures remained unmistakable.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Art Numier sat at the long table, skeletal hands steepled, his high-tech wheelchair pulled close. His body was a tangle of wires and tubes, threading from his skull and spine into the chair¡¯s frame, his hollowed face barely more than a death mask. The glow of embedded diagnostics flickered across his wasted form, pulsing in time with some unseen system.


    At the far end of the table stood Orin Fane, his silhouette sharp against the dim, shifting light. He was unnervingly still, hands clasped behind his back, the woven circuitry of his gloves gleaming faintly.


    And between them, perched on the table, claws rapping impatiently against the metal, was a three-foot-tall white rat.


    It leaned forward, pink eyes burning, whiskers twitching in irritation. ¡°You''re dragging your feet, Art.¡± Its voice was a rasping snarl, a sound too big for its small frame. ¡°We should¡¯ve put it down yesterday.¡±


    The video lagged, the rat¡¯s lips still moving after the words had landed.


    ¡°¡­needs to be controlled. One of the Cebus first.¡±


    Rosa¡¯s hands clenched in her lap.


    The feed stuttered.


    Now Fane was closer.


    She hadn¡¯t seen him move.


    ¡°We need to be sure before we act on the larger problem.¡±


    The lighting shifted - not dimming, but subtly distorting, as if bleeding through from another layer of reality. Numier¡¯s face stretched the width of a breath, just enough to make the stomach twist.


    The rat bared its teeth, tail lashing. ¡°LumiGard¡¯s already in pieces. We strike now.¡± Its claws scraped against the table in an ugly, rhythmic pattern. ¡°Or are you losing control?¡±


    Numier¡¯s voice followed a second later, eerily detached. ¡°The fact that LumiGard has begun partitioning itself¡­¡±


    ¡°You mean your monkey has,¡± the rat cut in.


    A whisper - no, a breath - exhaled from the speakers.


    Selina flinched, looking for a place to pull off the road.


    ¡°Yes. He¡¯s certainly interfering¡­ slipping through our firewalls¡­¡±


    The image glitched again.


    Now Numier¡¯s eyes were on them.


    Like he knew they were watching.


    Selina¡¯s pulse jumped. ¡°Turn it off.¡±


    Rosa didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°We need to test first,¡± Numier breathed.


    The rat¡¯s grin was all needle teeth. ¡°Enough tests.¡± Its fingers curled, claws clacking against one another. ¡°One dead Cebus. One dead glitch. Then we see what¡¯s left standing.¡±


    Fane¡¯s voice cut in, steady and deliberate. ¡°We mean to disengage one, not kill it. We need to be sure the entire system can be relocated without it breaking apart.¡±


    Numier¡¯s voice, distorted now. ¡°If separating a single Cebus destabilises the AI¡¯s core, we rethink the transfer. If not¡­¡±


    The video stuttered.


    The rat¡¯s laughter was a low, glitching chitter. ¡°We eliminate the trouble maker.¡±


    Then the video cut out, leaving a single word, glitching among static: HURRY.


    Selina slammed the brakes. The car skidded to a stop on the gravel, throwing them forward in their seats. Silence rushed in like a vacuum.


    Outside, the night stretched, vast and listening. Somewhere beyond the road, a bird let out a thin, warbling cry.


    Selina swallowed, fingers locked around the wheel. ¡°What was that?¡±


    Rosa barely heard her. She stared at the jittering screen, the rat¡¯s words echoing in her head.


    Eliminate the trouble maker.


    She swallowed. ¡°They¡¯re talking about killing Gum.¡±


    Selina let out a humorless laugh. ¡°Or LumiGard. Or us! Or all of the above. You know what? Maybe we should just get out and let them have their experiment.¡±


    Rosa turned to her, heat rising in her chest. ¡°Walk away? From what?¡±


    ¡°From all of it!¡± Selina barked. ¡°From this absolute nightmare! From the maybe-monkeys and the maybe-AI and¡­¡± she waved a hand wildly, ¡°...the maybe-rat!¡±


    She yanked at her ponytail, fingers unsteady as she tightened the band on her hair.


    ¡°I mean, that thing - we saw it in the NexUs, right? In that ridiculous Liberation Expo? They called it a liberant, whatever that means. And now it¡¯s here? In real life? Giving out death warrants like a crime boss?¡±


    Rosa pressed her fingers to her temple. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Well, let¡¯s add that to the list then, right?¡± Selina¡¯s voice climbed higher. ¡°Because you know what else I don¡¯t know? If the monkeys are real. If any of this is real. Because - correct me if I¡¯m wrong - you literally materialised out of nothing when we logged off from Dolphin¡¯s Barncar. Which is¡­¡± she released a helpless laugh, ¡°...a teensy, tiny, little problem when it comes to, you know, basic reality!¡±


    Rosa stiffened.


    Selina gave a sharp shake of her head. ¡°Look, I get that we¡¯re in deep, I do. But what''s even real, Rosa?¡± She swallowed hard. ¡°Are you?¡±


    A long silence settled between them.


    Rosa pressed her hands into her lap. They were shaking.


    She forced her voice steady. ¡°I feel real.¡±


    Selina¡¯s throat worked as she swallowed. ¡°Yeah?¡± She exhaled slowly. ¡°Then tell me why I - why I - saw you appear. Tell me why we¡¯re hearing rats order assassinations. Tell me why we''re being led about by mysterious black monkeys.¡±


    Rosa just blinked.


    Something twisted in her chest.


    The road outside looked empty and black, swallowed by hedgerows and twisted trees. In the distance, something yelped - a fox, maybe - its cry thin and reedy in the stillness. The world felt unreal - flattened, stretched, like a half-rendered simulation struggling to load.


    Selina¡¯s fingers relaxed slightly on the wheel, she turned off the engine, eyes on the dead dashboard screen. She was still rattled, still trying to force some sense onto the chaos. "I mean it, Rosa. Why are we listening to that thing? Every time LumiGard speaks, it just dumps more cryptic nonsense on us. Maybe it¡¯s just - just¡­" she floundered for the right words, "...some kind of noise, you know? Like, screaming into the void, and we¡¯re stupid enough to keep listening."


    Rosa too stared at the darkened infotainment screen. It felt like something was still watching them from behind it.


    The silence was vast. The car ticked in the cooling night, its warmth fading into the damp air. Beyond the narrow road, mist curled in restless tendrils, bending the hedgerows into shifting, uncertain shapes.


    Selina wasn''t surprised when the display flickered with tiny yellow lights. Thin, luminous filaments, weaving together in slow, coruscating ripples. A pattern, delicate and intricate, unfolding like the breath of something immense and unseen. What did surprise her was the rearview mirror.


    The same golden light.


    Behind the car, through the misted glass, golden glimmers danced in the night, swirling like embers caught in an unseen tide. Rosa twisted in her seat, eyes wide.


    Neither woman spoke.


    Selina reached for the door first. The click of the handle impossibly loud in the hush, she stepped out into the stillness. Rosa followed, shoes soft against the tarmac as the world outside swallowed her footsteps.


    Behind the car little lights hung in the air above the road, shifting like an ephemeral constellation, weightless yet utterly present. Not sparks. Not glitches.


    Fireflies?


    Hundreds of them - whirling in slow, deliberate spirals, their glow pulsing in careful sequence, not in chaotic bursts but in something measured. Something beckoning.


    Selina¡¯s breath was unsteady. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Rosa¡¯s gaze never left the luminous shapes, her lips parting in disbelief. ¡°Not possible,¡± she murmured, her voice soft, like she was afraid to disturb the beauty unfolding before them.


    Selina tore her gaze away, blinking as if the motion might reset the world into something ordinary. ¡°Fireflies don¡¯t live here,¡± she said.


    ¡°They don¡¯t,¡± Rosa agreed. ¡°So¡­¡±


    Selina exhaled, pulling her jacket tight against the chill of the night. ¡°So what are we seeing?¡±


    Rosa swallowed, her fingers tightening at her sides. ¡°This could be¡­ I don¡¯t know. A projection? Something artificial?¡±


    ¡°Like some VR overlay? A bleed-through?¡± Selina¡¯s voice was hushed, uncertain. ¡°Could LumiGard do this? Or¡­¡± She altered, looking tired.


    The fireflies - or whatever they were - did not scatter. They did not drift away into the night as they should have, as any ordinary creatures would. Instead, they hovered, their glow reflecting in Rosa¡¯s wide eyes.


    The car boot clicked open.


    And, as if some unseen thread had tightened between them, they moved.


    Not randomly. Not aimlessly.


    Together.


    They spiraled down, slow and deliberate, curling into the boot like a ribbon unwinding in water. One by one, they settled - silent, weightless, forming a halo of flickering gold upon a single object in the otherwise unremarkable space.


    Selina¡¯s portable headset. Used for meetings, for last minute shopping, for skimming through the curated digital ghostlands of a life that had once felt so straightforward.


    It sat there, unremarkable in its shape, straps slightly twisted from being tossed in among other forgotten things, now clothed in light.


    Selina exhaled. She reached for it, hesitating just before her fingers touched the smooth surface.


    The fireflies did not move.


    The glow of their bodies cast shifting shadows across her hands, across the headset, across the dark curve of the boot¡¯s interior. The night itself seemed to fold around them, poised on some invisible threshold, waiting.


    Rosa swallowed.


    ¡°They''re¡­ guiding us,¡± she murmured.


    Selina¡¯s fingers finally closed around the headset, lifting it from its resting place.


    The fireflies rose, spiraling up, dispersing in slow, liquid arcs, their glow trailing like the last echoes of something half-remembered, something too delicate to hold. And they were gone.


    A breeze stirred.


    Selina turned the headset over in her hands. Her voice, when it came, was barely above the hush of the wind.


    ¡°¡­What are we supposed to do?¡±

 Under the Eye

    The streets outside M.A.S.S. were a void, silent but for the whisper of rain against concrete. The glow of distant sodium lamps stretched in liquid smears across the wet tarmac, the smell of industrial sterility blowing through the air.


    Neither woman had wanted to come back. And yet, every other option had unraveled in their hands, leading back to the same place. They had circled the problem from every angle, grasping at alternatives that never quite settled, until, inevitably, they found themselves here, as if something had been steering them all along.


    Leaving the car buried in a dead end of the industrial estate, now the research facility loomed - monolithic, windowless - as they crouched in the shadows, watching for security patrols. The place gave off an institutional coldness, like an abandoned hospital where the voices had never stopped whispering.


    A circling drone hung in the air above the far side of the facility. Not the commercial kind - no palm-sized hobbyist quadcopter. This was heavier, built for security: a matte-black shell, rotating optics scanning in erratic bursts, its movements sharp and birdlike. It drifted in a loose, shifting pattern, sweeping the perimeter.


    From the shelter of a neighbouring unit, Rosa pulled Selina¡¯s VR headset over her eyes. Until now it had been lifeless, remaining inert even when switched on. But now¡­


    She hesitated. "If this does something weird, don¡¯t freak out."


    Selina gave her a look. "It¡¯s a VR headset, not a ghost detector."


    Still, she shifted uneasily as Rosa slid it over her eyes.


    The world bled away.


    Night unraveled into something else. The rain stopped mid-fall, droplets hovering in the air like suspended glass. The dark fa?ade of M.A.S.S. peeled apart, layer by layer, as if reality were shedding its skin. And underneath¡­


    Hazy layers.


    Corridors behind the walls, ghostly green outlines pulsing with half-forgotten energy.


    Echoes.


    Not sound, not exactly - but something like it.


    A pressure in the skull, a whisper felt rather than heard.


    The rasp of breathing.


    The scrape of metal on metal.


    The scratch of nails against glass.


    A faint, shuddering exhale, as if something had been holding its breath for too long.


    Figures emerged in flickers, caught in the half-light of the simulation. Technicians in spectral whites, their faces blurred, their movements disjointed - skipping frames like a corrupted reel of film. Their distant voices slithered through the walls, stretched and distant, repeating in hollow loops.


    Cages rose out of the dark like the ribs of a great, long-dead beast. Metal bars flickered in and out of phase, stretching into infinity. Monkeys huddled inside - shadows within shadows, their small forms barely perceptible. They were silent. They did not move, did not struggle. Just watched.


    Somehow, they were interconnected - cables and conduits festooning their heads and torsos, forming a complex mesh of data and signal flow. Tiny orange lights flickered along their scalps, pulsating with faint, rhythmic intensity as wires and tubes snaked like veins between them in a network of circuitry.


    The creatures twitched - not individually, but together. A synchronised jerk of their limbs as if a common thread was pulled tight.


    Their heads then snapped toward her, one by one, their bodies frozen in time but their gaze alive.


    They saw her.


    She staggered back, breath catching in her throat. The layers of time rolling one upon another.


    And then¡­


    Rowan.


    Face close, liquid eyes gleaming.


    Not of flesh, not of code - something in between.


    His black fur shimmered with an ethereal glow, the edges of his body fraying like ink dispersing in water. He slipped through the layers like smoke. An error in their pattern. A refusal. A flaw in their perfect synchronisation.


    He stood, his gaze locking onto Rosa.


    The past blurred, dissolving into streaks of luminous verdigris and shadow.


    Then he bounded away, his luminous form hurrying around the image of the building, beckoning Rosa to follow.


    His outline jittered and abruptly reality snapped back.


    The rain struck Rosa in a cold sheet. The world slammed into focus with a jarring finality, the headset now simply transparent. Rosa staggered, breath shuddering, the vision unraveling at the edges of her mind, slipping through her grasp like water.


    Selina caught her by the elbow. ¡°You with me?¡±


    Rosa swallowed hard. Rowan was somehow here - she was sure of it.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    She nodded. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    They crept around the hulking concrete facility, keeping close to the wall as shadows stretched long beneath the amber glow of the security lights.


    Following Rowan¡¯s path, Rosa and Selina approached the area of the industrial wheelie bins.


    ¡°No,¡± Selina breathed. ¡°Tell me you don''t expect me to climb up there again.¡±


    A low hum cut off their conversation, just at the edge of hearing. Rosa stiffened. The sound sharpened - a mechanical whir, the distant click of stabilizers adjusting. Then, a flicker of movement, ghostly in the darkness - the security drone came into view around the far corner of the building.


    It drifted - silent, gliding through the night like some dark omen. Its matte-black casing caught the weak light from the security lamps, shimmering under the rain.


    The red line of its scanner rose and fell methodically. A pulse of judgment sweeping over everything in its path.


    The drone moved toward them, the lens of its eye adjusting, testing the air. Its dark body swiveled, scanning the space, giving no hint of its precise focus. The rotors hummed, a low, vibrating thrum whispering at the shadows.


    Rosa¡¯s hand moved to the headset, and Rowan¡¯s spectral form flickered back into view - his black-furred face momentarily sharp, his head jerking toward the shadows, urging her forward with a silent, desperate urgency.


    ¡°Move,¡± Rosa whispered, voice tight with fear.


    Selina was staring at the drone. Her pupils dilated, her breath shallow, barely perceptible. ¡°I hate this.¡±


    Rosa hissed, ¡°Come on.¡± She pulled Selina into the shadow of the nearest waste container.


    The drone advanced, its optics sweeping in jerky bursts. Rosa felt her heart race - each sweep of that eye dragging her deeper into panic.


    Rowan¡¯s digital representation moved with them, darting ahead like a flickering shadow. He clambered onto an invisible ledge, perching on nothing, his gaze eerily intense. His nostrils flared as if sniffing the air, his crest twitching.


    The shelter of the refuse skips felt pitifully thin, a child¡¯s hiding place against something that could navigate with such precision.


    Rosa felt her hands shake against the cold concrete as she crouched low. The light of the drone''s scanner bathed the nearby wet ground in blood as it stopped.


    Rosa could barely breathe. Her body screamed to run, to escape, but she held herself still, too terrified to move. She could feel Selina trembling beside her, the fear radiating off her like heat. The drone was right there, just a few meters away.


    The red light reflected briefly off the wall, flashed over their faces, their bodies, turning them into silhouettes. It lingered.


    Rowan made a jerky, clawing motion. Not yet. Not yet.


    Without warning something was on them, beneath them, around their ankles, squirming. Selina jolted as if electrocuted, a strangled noise catching in her throat. She stiffened, every muscle locking as the rat twisted between them, its slick tail flicking against her skin.


    Rosa gasped, sharp and shallow, her body thrumming with the instinct to kick, to shake it off, to get it away. But she didn¡¯t dare move. Not with the drone so close.


    Then the rat bolted, a streak of greasy fur skittering into the dark. The hovering sentinel snapped to attention, its sensor locking onto the sudden movement. It swung after the fleeing rodent.


    Rosa pressed a shaking hand over her mouth, her skin crawling with the ghost of tiny claws. Selina was rigid beside her, breath coming in rapid, silent gasps, her hands curled into fists so tight her knuckles had gone bloodless. Then, slowly, her fingers twitched, brushing Rosa¡¯s wrist - light, urgent. A signal. Move.


    Rowan made an urgent, wild gesture. Go. Go now.


    They were off, slipping low, their bodies pressing against the skips as they darted to the next one, keeping as silent as possible.


    Twenty metres away, the drone left off pursuing the rat and its optics snapped back to their position.


    Their backs met the wall, the cold seeping through their clothes. The air smelled of damp concrete and the metal of industrial containers, thick enough to taste.


    The mech prowled once more slowly forward, silent, red lens blinking in slow, predatory pulses.


    Rowan scrambled up an invisible surface, perching as if hanging from a branch that didn¡¯t exist. His crest raised, his eyes darting ahead. He saw something.


    Rosa risked a glance sideways. Just beyond the bins, set flush against the wall, was a door - plain, metal, unmarked. A service exit, most likely used for waste disposal.


    For a split second, hope flared in her chest - until she saw it had no handle on the outside.


    Useless.


    She forced her breath steady, refocusing. The mechanical eye swept past them again, red glow skimming the containers.


    Selina shifted beside her, so close Rosa could feel the tremor in her limbs. They were running out of room, out of time.


    A movement. Barely there. The faintest whisper of a hinge.


    Rosa¡¯s eyes snapped back to the door.


    It was ajar.


    A gap - small, almost imperceptible in the dim light, but unmistakably there.


    She stared, her mind catching up. It hadn¡¯t been open before. She knew it hadn¡¯t.


    She felt Selina tense, following her gaze.


    Rowan¡¯s avatar leapt for the opening, clearly expecting to be followed.


    They should have been relieved. But instead, dread curled low in Rosa¡¯s stomach. Someone - or something - had opened it.


    *****


    Art Numier sat rigid in his wheelchair, staring at the monitor.


    A notification pulsed on his tablet.


    Security Alert: Anomalous Activity Detected.


    He stared at the screen. No forced entry. No external breach.


    Something inside.


    He pulled up the security feeds. The footage stuttered, jumping frames, freezing on empty corridors before flickering to life again - only to show nothing out of place.


    He rewound. Played it at half speed. The same gaps. A subtle warping of time, like the system itself was second-guessing what it had recorded.


    Art frowned. The AI logs should have a record of any disruptions. He ran a diagnostic.


    No irregularities detected.


    That wasn¡¯t right. He checked the system¡¯s internal logs.


    Error: Data Unavailable.


    His mouth tightened. The logs weren¡¯t just missing - they were being removed. Actively. Now.


    His fingers moved quickly, querying deeper, trying to access raw footage.


    Error: Insufficient Privileges.


    His own security clearance blocked him.


    LumiGard.


    Art scowled. The AI was intervening. Not responding to a threat - concealing something.


    He angled his chair and reached for the VR rig. If the system wouldn¡¯t show him what was wrong from the outside, he¡¯d have to go in himself.


    He slipped the headset on, took a breath¡­


    And dived into the grid.


    As the physical world dissolved, Art¡¯s avatar came to life, shrouded in its lattice of glowing filaments, twisting and shifting around him. The M.A.S.S. security network took shape, an abstract, fractured landscape stretching before him.


    The digital blooms that flickered upon his form dissolved into particles as he surveyed the layered construct of pulsing green pathways and translucent data streams, stretching in all directions.


    A persistent red beacon pulsed overhead - an alert he should be able to trace to its source. But when he reached for it, the interface shifted, twisting the data structure like a trick of perspective.


    The system wouldn¡¯t let him look.


    LumiGard was actively steering him away.


    He moved forward, the space around him twisting - phantom afterimages clinging to his form like frozen echoes of his gestures


    The simulation tightened with a strange energy, charged and unsettled, as if the grid recognized him as something more than human - a force outside the current moment.


    And then, a voice echoed in the stillness - his voice - layered, distant, reverberating from multiple points in the grid, coming from versions of himself that had yet to exist or were slipping away into oblivion.


    "What are you hiding from me?"


    The question whispered through the fragments of reality, less like an inquiry and more like an accusation. The AI¡¯s silence was suffocating.