"Hello?" Agnes called out — unsure if she was asking a question or issuing a plea.
The space around her, once a room, was now barely recognizable. What had once been sterile concrete walls were now overtaken by thick, rope-like vines creeping through cracks like veins under skin. Nature had claimed this place. Slowly. Thoroughly.
How long have I been asleep?
She rubbed her temples, trying to coax clarity from the fog in her head.
The floor beneath her was littered with patches of dirt and twisted roots. This room — once clean, humming with energy and control — now reeked of damp soil and abandonment. Life had returned, but not the kind she wanted.
Why am I in here? The thought drifted through her mind, but no answer came. Her stomach groaned in response, loud and primal.
She scanned the room, eyes searching for anything edible — and then, without warning, a glowing blue screen flickered into her field of vision:
Name: Kudzu Vine
Species: Plant
Type: Autotroph, Invasive
Description: Kudzu is an invasive climbing vine native to eastern Asia that can have devastating ecological and— wiki...
Agnes flinched. The information wasn't on the screen anymore — it was in her mind, as if downloaded directly into her thoughts.
"What the fuck is a... 'wikipidia'?" she muttered, frowning. The word felt both familiar and foreign, like a name she'd heard in a dream and forgotten by morning. Hatred bubbled up from nowhere, unearned but intense.
Maybe I'll remember... after I eat something.
Her eyes swept across the room again. Something small and blue caught her attention, half-buried in a nest of leaves.
Name: Wild Blueberries
Species: Plant, Fruit
Type: Autotroph
Description: Edible fruit commonly found in temperate forests...
Agnes didn't wait for the rest. She lunged forward, scooping up handfuls and devouring them like a starving animal.
Notification: +6 Hunger
Another pop-up. Agnes growled in frustration.
Why do these damn notifications keep showing up? Can I turn them off?
Settings:
Disable Notifications
Disable Auto-Analyze
System: Detecting an error... Rebooting...
A sharp pain surged through her skull like a nail being driven between her eyes. She collapsed, hands clutching her head, vision spinning into black static.
Minutes passed.
Her breathing slowed. Her body relaxed. She opened her eyes.
"Ugh... what am I doing here?" she groaned, forcing herself upright.
Why is it so dark? she wondered. Didn't the supernova explode? How the hell am I still alive?
And then — another realization.
Wait. I wasn't the only one in this room.
Panic surged through her chest. She staggered to her feet and scanned the area — vines, dirt, debris, and something else. Two mounds beneath the rubble. Heavy. Unmoving.
She crept closer, her breath catching in her throat.
What if the old man's still here? What if he sues me for destroying his lab?
A shiver ran down her spine. She'd just gotten fired. There was no way she could afford the damages — hell, one single screen in that room had cost nearly $150,000.
Taking a cautious step forward, she scanned the two mounds.
Thank God for her father's insistence on getting the Elon Dusk Neurolink. She had hated the smug billionaire, but even she had to admit — the thing was useful. It bypassed the need for physical screens entirely, tapping into her nervous system to simulate a fully immersive HUD. The illusion of a hologram — all in her head.
Still, one question remained.
How the hell is this thing still working?
If the lab was destroyed, how had the fragile servers survived?
Rich people and their goddamn paranoia. She pushed the question aside.
Her attention turned to the two shapes under the rubble. With a mental flick, she activated the scan.
Analyzing...
Name: Unknown
Species: Human
Type: Omnivore
Status: Deceased
Description: a human corpse. Based on current decay, the estimated time of death is approximately 3.4 years ago.
Agnes stared.
"…What?"