We sat facing each other — or rather, I sat, while it adjusted its mechanical joints, releasing a faint click-click sound that echoed in the dim basement.
“I was once part of a network of realities,” it began, voice steady but tinged with static. “This system connected thousands of different realms, each with its own rules. The place you’re standing in now is a closed experimental zone — a faulty model where time fractures… and loops endlessly.”
I asked why no one else seemed to notice.
“They can’t,” it replied. “Their memories reset along with the space itself. Only those outside the system — or carrying an object from beyond, like you — can escape the loop.”
I looked at the memory shard in my hand. Warmth pulsed from it, spreading across my palm. For a fleeting moment, I heard Wind’s voice — faint, almost like a whisper carried from a distant place, softly calling my name.
The AI tilted its head, as if catching an elusive frequency.
“The one who gave you that… knows how to cross layers of reality. If you want to find them, you must break free from this loop. But…”
It paused. The blue light tracing its chest dimmed slightly.
“…every time the loop ends, I lose a portion of my data. Soon, there will be nothing left of me to remember.”
We struck a deal: I would search the city for the breakpoint of the loop, while it calculated a way to open an exit through the dome’s electrical network.
As I left the basement, I noticed something strange. In the faint light, the AI’s shadow stretched across the cracked wall — and for a single heartbeat, it wasn’t the outline of a machine.
It was the silhouette of a long-haired woman.
I blinked, and the image was gone.
