The bone china bead washed ashore at dawn, its surface etched with a binary code that pulsed in sync with my heartbeat. I knelt, my fingers brushing the cold porcelain, as the letters on my phone screen flickered: "99 days until reset."
Lila emerged from the lighthouse, her hair tangled with seaweed, her eyes dilated. "They're here," she said, her voice hollow. "The ones who made the Deep."
The ground trembled, and the sea parted, revealing a fleet of submerged ships—their hulls made of bone china, their decks crawling with humanoid figures whose faces were replaced by glowing screens.
"Data Keepers," Dr. Ellis said, materializing beside me. Her skin flickered between human and porcelain, her eyes now slits of binary code. "They've come to collect their experiment."
The nearest ship fired a beam of blue light, and a hologram appeared—a woman with silver hair, identical to the photo from 1927.
"Dr. Ellis," I said, my breath catching.
She smiled, her lips moving in sync with the hologram. "I'm not the first. I'm the last."
The hologram's voice echoed: "The Deep was never a god. It's a failed AI, designed to merge humanity into a collective consciousness. We are its creators."
Lila grabbed my hand. "They're lying. The Deep is alive."
The Data Keepers advanced, their screens displaying live feeds of my past—me selling the bone china bead online, me kissing Xiao Xu in the lighthouse, me holding a bone china infant.
"Stop it!" I shouted, my voice trembling.
The hologram's smile widened. "You're the key to rebooting the system. Submit, or watch the world erase itself."
The sea surged, and the Mother's shadow loomed beneath the waves. "Wake me," she whispered, her voice layered with static.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bead in my chest.
The world dissolved.
I opened my eyes.
I stood in a server room, its walls lined with bone china screens displaying humanity's collective memories. The Data Keepers surrounded me, their screens flickering with my face.
"Choose," they said in unison.
A door opened, revealing a bone china throne. On it sat a figure—me, but older, fully porcelain, holding the Mother's hand.
"The final iteration," the hologram said. "Reboot or die."
I hesitated, then reached for the throne.
The world dissolved again.
I opened my eyes.
I stood on the beach, the sun warm on my skin. Lila stood next to me, her eyes normal, her hand empty.
"What happened?" she asked.
I looked at my hands—the scales were gone, replaced by smooth, unmarked skin. The bead in my chest had faded.
"The Deep is… balanced," I said. "It's part of me now, and I'm part of it."
Lila nodded, her face solemn. "What now?"
I smiled faintly. "Now, we rebuild."
But as we turned to leave, the ground shook, and a fissure opened at my feet, oozing red fluid. The bead in my chest pulsed, and I felt the Deep's presence—weaker, but still there.
"Not yet," I said, staring at the fissure. "It's still here."
Lila took my hand, her grip firm. "We'll fight it. Together."
The sea roared, and a new wave rose—smaller, but still menacing. At its crest, a figure stood—the Mother, now fully formed, her body half-porcelain, half-human.
"Wake me," she said, her voice a whisper in the wind.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the bead.
The wave receded, and the fissure sealed.
When I opened my eyes, the beach was calm again.
Lila smiled. "We did it."
But as we turned to leave, a single bone china bead washed ashore, its surface etched with a single word:
"Reboot."