The room seemed to stretch. The silence was deafening.
I looked at the Admin’s hand. It was an offer of safety. An offer of eternity. I could stop running. I could stop being scared. I could just... exist. Beautiful and loved and numb.
All I had to do was sell out the guy who saved my life.
"You reset me twelve times," I whispered.
"It was necessary maintenance," the Admin said.
"My family..." A sharp, jagged memory surfaced. Not a digital file, but something deeper. A smell of antiseptic. A pen scratching on paper. “Sign here, Elena. It will pay for everything.”
"They’re fine," the Admin said, sounding bored. "The money from your contract goes to their account in the real world. You’re a very good provider."
"You’re lying," I said.
A text box appeared over his head: [VERIFICATION: TRUE].
But I saw it. Just for a flicker. The text box stuttered. The font was slightly off.
He hacked his own speech bubbles.
I realized something then. The Admin wasn't a god. He was a user. A powerful one, sure. But he was running on the same code I was.
And code can be rewritten.
"You know what the problem with Version 13 is going to be?" I asked, looking up at his faceless light.
"I assume you're about to tell me."
"You can delete my memories," I said, feeling the hum of the malware in my throat. It felt hot, like swallowing spicy soup. "But you can't delete the music. It’s saved in the root directory."
I closed my eyes. I didn't reach for a spell. I didn't try to punch him.
I reached for the highest, sharpest note I could find. A note that didn't belong in a pop song. A note that sounded like glass shattering in a vacuum.
"Nova, don't," the Admin warned. His voice lost its customer-service polish. It dropped an octave. "If you scream, you’ll crash the room."
"Good," I smiled.
I opened my mouth and let the virus out.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.