Cycle: Uncatalogued
Subject Link Detected – Unscheduled Sync Event
Jonah
He wakes in motion.
Running. Shoes slapping wet pavement. Sirens wailing in the distance. His lungs burn like he's been sprinting for miles. Rain lashes his face. The world is all blur and shadow—
—and then he turns a corner, and Elias is there.
Standing perfectly still under a flickering streetlight, soaked to the bone.
"What the hell is this?" Jonah gasps, skidding to a stop. "Where are we?"
Elias doesn't answer. Just looks past him. Jonah turns—
—and sees the truck.
Old. Rusted. Engine still running. Back doors wide open. Inside: boxes of cereal. Blue boxes. Dozens of them, spilling onto the street.
Jonah's breath catches. "I've seen this before."
Elias speaks, voice distant. "So have I."
They approach together, shoulder to shoulder, no plan, no agreement—just drawn to it like something magnetic.
And there, in the back of the truck, sits Lily.
And beside her, a boy with wide eyes and a scraped knee.
Caleb.
The two children look up. Smile in unison.
"Hi, Daddy," they say together.
Jonah sways on his feet. "No, no, that's not possible. She's mine. I remember her first—"
Elias cuts in. "Don't. Don't say that. You don't know what's real anymore."
"Do you?"
"No," Elias admits, quietly. "But I know this isn't supposed to happen."
The sky cracks.
Not thunder.
A glitch.
A ripple splits across the stars like torn film. Buildings flicker. The truck melts at the edges. The children freeze mid-motion—expressions stuck between a laugh and a scream.
And somewhere above them, behind the clouds, a new sound begins.
Typing.
Fast. Furious. Desperate.
Jonah grips Elias's arm. "We're not supposed to be here."
"No," Elias mutters. "But we are."
The ground starts to fall away.
And just before it does, Lily turns—really turns—locks eyes with Jonah and whispers:
"She's watching you."
---
Link Severed
Unauthorized Dreamlink Terminated
Cross-Memory Fusion Logged
Security Breach Flagged
> REVIEW REQUIRED: Simulation core may be fragmenting. They are remembering what was never meant to be remembered.
---