Environment Construct ID: 6A-ECHO
Joint Simulation Trial – Emotional Crosslink Test Initiated
Subjects: 32A & 47B
The door opens.
Neither of them remembers standing up. One second they're in the cell, the next—they're here.
A small, two-bedroom apartment. Beige walls, worn carpet, the smell of burnt coffee and lemon cleaner. Late afternoon light slants through dusty blinds. A fan hums weakly in the corner, spinning slow like time itself is trying to catch its breath.
Jonah is the first to speak. "What is this?"
Elias doesn't answer. He's too busy looking around. His eyes are scanning every object like it might explode. The fridge hums. The TV is on mute, looping static over a sitcom that never aired. A photo frame sits on the shelf.
Jonah steps toward it and freezes.
It's a picture of him. But older. A beard, tired eyes. He's holding a little girl in his arms. Her face is clear—too clear. No dream ever gives you that kind of detail.
"She's mine," he says, before he even knows why. "Her name is Lily."
Elias moves past him, jaw tight. "You don't have a kid."
"I remember her," Jonah says.
"No, you don't," Elias snaps. "They want you to think you do. They're feeding us ghosts."
That's when Elias sees it.
Pinned to the fridge—held by a faded magnet—is a hand-drawn picture in crayon. A house. A stick-figure family. A dog.
And a name written in messy letters: Caleb.
Elias's voice goes cold. "This isn't real."
"Then why do we feel it?" Jonah asks.
He doesn't get an answer. Because the door slams shut behind them—and the locks click. One. Two. Three.
The lights flicker. A phone starts to ring.
Landline. Old. Beige plastic.
Jonah walks over and picks it up.
He doesn't say hello.
The voice on the other end does.
"You left the stove on, Jonah."
He drops the phone.
Smoke curls from the kitchen. The fire alarm starts shrieking. Elias runs toward the hallway—but the floor stretches, elongates like rubber. He shouts something Jonah can't hear.
Jonah turns, and in the living room, Lily is standing there.
Except she's not moving.
Not blinking.
Not breathing.
Like someone just copy-pasted her into the room and forgot to animate her.
Jonah takes a step forward, heart in his throat.
"Lily?" he whispers.
She tilts her head.
And then, in Elias's voice, she says:
"You should have let me die."
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End of Simulation Segment 1
Subjects separated post-trial. Emotional destabilization logged. Crosslink metrics exceeded. Further trauma reinforcement recommended.
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