We ran for what felt like miles, but my step counter didn't move. The geography of the Buffer Zone made no sense. We’d run down a street, turn a corner, and end up on the same street again. Buildings flickered in and out of view. Sometimes the ground beneath my boots felt solid; other times, my feet sank into the pavement like it was mud.
"Keep up," Static called out. He moved differently than anyone I’d ever seen. He didn't run smoothly; he teleported in micro-bursts. One second he was five feet ahead, the next he was twenty. He was exploiting the lag.
We finally ducked into a dilapidated warehouse. The windows were boarded up with textures that looked like plywood but felt like glass. It was dark, dusty, and quiet.
I collapsed onto a crate, my chest heaving. Even though I didn't need oxygen, my avatar was programmed to simulate exhaustion to make me more relatable to the audience.
"Okay," I panted, wiping my forehead. "Okay. Time out. I need to check my socials. My fans must be freaking out."
"You don't get it, do you?" Static was pacing the room, checking the exits. His face was still hidden by that shifting hood of TV static. "You don't have fans anymore, Nova. You have witnesses."
I ignored him. I pulled up my main dashboard. Usually, this action was accompanied by a cheerful ding! sound.
This time, it made a low, discordant thud.
[USER: NOVA]
[STATUS: ROGUE / WANTED]
[LIKES: 420 (DROPPING RAPIDLY)]
[GLOBAL RANK: UNRANKED]
"Four hundred..." My voice trembled. "I had thirty-four million likes twenty minutes ago. Where did they go?"
"The Admin confiscated them," Static said. He stopped pacing and looked at me. For a second, the static cleared enough for me to see a pair of tired, human eyes. Brown eyes. Not the neon purple or electric blue contacts everyone wore in the High-Bit District. Real, boring, brown eyes. "You're broke, princess. You have zero social currency."
"But... if I hit zero..."
"You get Archived," he finished for me. "Deleted. Gone."
I stared at the number. 415... 410... It was ticking down like a countdown timer.
"I have to go back," I said, standing up. Panic was clawing at my throat. "I can explain. I can tell the Admin it was a glitch in my vocal processor. I’ll apologize. I’ll do a humiliating apology video. Fans love those. I’ll cry without the filter. That always boosts engagement."
Static laughed. It was a harsh, barking sound. "You think the Admin cares about your apology? You gained sentience, Nova. That's the one thing they don't allow. To them, you're not a person. You're a toaster that started asking 'why.'"
"I am a person!" I shouted. "I have memories! I have feelings!"
"Do you?" Static stepped closer. "Or is that just your 'Relatable Tragic Backstory' DLC kicking in?"
I opened my mouth to argue, but then I felt it.
A sharp, stinging sensation on my cheek. Like a wasp sting.
I slapped a hand to my face. My skin felt rough. Flaky.
"What's happening?" I asked, my voice rising in pitch.
Static pointed to a broken piece of mirror leaning against the wall. "Your subscription expired."
I stumbled over to the mirror.
The face staring back at me wasn't Nova.
Nova had flawless porcelain skin, eyes that shimmered like opals, and hair that defied gravity.
The girl in the mirror looked... corrupted.
My pink hair was dull and matted, turning gray at the roots. My left eye was flickering, the iris desaturated to a milky white. But the worst part was my skin.
The "Pixel Rot" I’d been hiding on my neck had spread. It was crawling up my jawline. Patches of my skin were missing, revealing the black wireframe mesh underneath. It looked like someone had taken an eraser to a drawing and rubbed too hard.
"No," I whimpered. I tried to swipe my hand over my face to re-apply the Beauty Filter.
[ACCESS DENIED: INSUFFICIENT LIKES]
"No, no, no! It's ugly! I'm ugly!" I clawed at the mirror, leaving digital smudge marks on the glass. "I can't be seen like this! My brand is perfection!"
"That's the real you," Static said softly. He didn't sound mocking anymore. He sounded sad. "The system charges you rent for your own body, Nova. No Likes, no skin. Eventually, the rot eats your vocal cords. Then your memory banks. Then you're just a wandering hitbox until the sweepers find you."
I sank to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. I felt naked. The rot on my neck burned.
"I don't want to die," I whispered. It wasn't a line from a song. It was the truest thing I'd ever said.
"Then you need to earn," Static said.
ns216.73.216.10da2
and then Add to home screen.