Ghost in the Machine

The city never truly slept. Even in the dead of night, the streets hummed with a restless energy—neon signs flickering, distant sirens wailing, and the low buzz of late-night traffic rolling through half-empty avenues. Cipher and Nova moved like shadows, their footsteps swallowed by the noise.

Cipher kept his hands in his pockets, fingers curled around the strange metallic device Nova had given him. It still pulsed faintly, like it was alive. He didn't like that.

"Where are we headed?" he asked.

Nova's pace was brisk. "Somewhere safe."

Cipher almost laughed. "Safe doesn't exist anymore."

She didn't argue.

They slipped into an alley, stepping over cracked pavement and discarded trash. Nova led them to a rusted metal door with a keypad on the side. She punched in a code, and with a soft hiss, the lock released.

Inside, the air was cool, the space dimly lit by a handful of old monitors. It wasn't much—an abandoned server room, judging by the exposed wiring and outdated equipment.

Cipher shut the door behind them. "So, what now?"

Nova sat down in front of one of the screens and tapped a few keys. "Now, we figure out who's pulling the strings."

Cipher leaned against the wall. "You make it sound easy."

Nova didn't look up. "It isn't."

Lines of code scrolled across the screen, flashing between static and distorted symbols. Cipher watched, trying to make sense of it, but the patterns shifted too fast.

After a minute, he sighed. "You planning to tell me what I'm looking at?"

Nova exhaled. "It's a backdoor."

Cipher's brow furrowed. "Into what?"

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Reality."

Cipher let out a dry chuckle. "Sure. Makes perfect sense."

Nova didn't smile.

Cipher's amusement faded. "You're serious."

She nodded. "Whatever's rewriting people—deleting them—it's not just erasing their data. It's rewriting history at a fundamental level. But there are glitches."

Cipher frowned. "Glitches?"

Nova pointed at the screen. "Fragments of code that shouldn't exist. Digital echoes of people who should be gone."

Cipher stepped closer. The text flickered, forming garbled words, then dissolving into static. But for a split second, he saw something. A name.

Lena Ashford.

Cipher's stomach twisted. "I know that name."

Nova looked up sharply. "From where?"

Cipher's voice was tight. "She was a journalist. Investigative. She went missing a few months ago—one of those cases where the police 'found no leads.'" He exhaled. "And now she's just… here?"

Nova turned back to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. "If she's still in the system, it means she wasn't fully erased. There's a chance we can bring her back."

Cipher didn't know what was more unsettling—the idea that people were being erased from reality or the possibility that they could be restored.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do we pull her out?"

Nova was quiet for a moment. "We need to find where she's stored."

Cipher stared at the screen. "Stored?"

Nova didn't meet his gaze. "You're not ready for that answer."

Cipher clenched his jaw. "Try me."

Nova hesitated, then tapped another key. A new screen appeared, filled with coordinates and encrypted pathways.

Cipher's blood ran cold.

"They're being kept somewhere," he whispered.

Nova nodded. "Not physically. But their data, their existence—it's not completely erased. Just… contained."

Cipher took a step back. "Like files in a corrupted drive."

Nova met his gaze. "Exactly."

Cipher exhaled sharply. This wasn't just about stopping people from disappearing. It was about recovering the ones who already had.

But if they were stored somewhere, that meant someone—some thing—was keeping them.

Cipher shook his head. "We're dealing with something way bigger than we thought."

Nova leaned back in her chair. "We always were."

Cipher flexed his fingers, feeling the device in his palm. It was still pulsing. Still waiting.

"If Lena's still in there, we need to get her out."

Nova's expression was grim. "I know."

Cipher swallowed. "And if we can't?"

Nova's fingers hovered over the keyboard. "Then we figure out who did this and stop them before we end up in there too."

Cipher nodded.

They had a name. A target. And now, a mission.

The only question left was—who was watching them?

Outside, in the empty streets, a security camera shifted ever so slightly.

And somewhere, in the depths of the system, a new name flickered onto the list.

Cipher Voss – Processing…