Luka_Seek

In a world where criminals are myths and ghosts are real, **Lisa Kays—aka "Little Ghost"—** is the ultimate thief: a woman who leaves no trace, no DNA, and no witnesses. But when the cops start finding **her signature 404 tag** at crimes she didn’t commit, Lisa discovers the horrifying truth—**she’s being cloned**. And not just once.  

Hundreds of **Lisa variants** are loose in the world, each one deadlier than the last. Teaming up with **Rabbit**, a feral teenage hacker who lives in a sewer, and **Lora**, a battle-scarred medic with a hidden past, Lisa hunts the shadowy **Project Phoenix**—only to learn she was **never the original**.  

Her memories? **Fake.**  
Her scars? **Programmed.**  
Her existence? **A time loop.**  

Now, trapped in a **72-hour recursion**, Lisa must:  

- **Outwit her own clones** (some allies, some enemies, some *something worse*)  
- **Uncover Rabbit’s ties to Project Phoenix** (why does his mother’s face appear in the lab files?)  
- **Decode Lora’s golden barcode** (is she a savior or a sleeper agent?)  
- **Confront Wraith**, the first "ghost" (who may not be human at all)  

But the deeper she digs, the clearer the horror becomes:  

**This isn’t a cloning project.**  
**It’s a time paradox.**  
**And Lisa isn’t the thief—she’s the *heist*.**  

With **6000 loops** to break the cycle, Lisa must decide:  404 PAGE NOT FOUND

NO Body, NO Crime

The slushie machine gurgled like a dying animal, pumping thick crimson fluid into Lisa's foam cup. June 14, 2024 glowed on the calendar, but the numbers bled like fresh ink. Outside, the parking lot stretched into a fractal hellscape—endless asphalt under a sky of static, each crack in the pavement humming with the machine's dying breath.

Rabbit-0's laughter echoed from the freezer aisle.

She found him flickering like a corrupted hologram, aged decades in seconds. His tiger onesie hung loose on a skeletal frame, one milky eye fixed on the ceiling. "Took you *eight loops* to ask the right question," he rasped, finger tracing a new mural on the wall—Lisa surrounded by faceless children, their hands fused into a single monstrous limb. "What *is* the machine?"

The answer came in a whisper of frost.

The freezer door swung open, revealing a tunnel of pulsating meat and copper wiring. At its end stood **Batch 000**—not clones, but *originals*. Fifty identical men and women in 1970s lab coats, their faces melted like wax, eyes replaced by whirring camera lenses.

"Welcome home, Subject 404," they chorused, film reels spooling from their mouths.

Batch 000 parted, revealing the horror at the tunnel's heart:

A colossal film projector fused with organic matter, its flickering beam illuminating a screen stitched from human skin. On it played every loop Lisa had ever lived—and thousands she hadn't.

"Not a cloning device," Rabbit-0 wheezed, dissolving into static. "A *bridge*. For *them*."

The projector whined. The screen tore.

Something pressed against the other side—a shadow with too many joints, its fingers peeling back reality like cellophane.

Batch 000 stepped forward as one, their camera eyes focusing. "We volunteered first," they said, filmstrip tongues lolling. "Let the machine eat our faces so we could see *beyond*. Now we feast on stories."

They extended a collective hand—a writhing mass of film reels and bone.

Lisa's third eye burned. She saw the truth:

- And the thing beyond the screen… it was *hungry*.

The walls began to bleed. Rabbit-0's final mural animated itself in jagged strokes—stick figure Lisas storming the projector, crayon swords slicing film reels.

"*Now*, Ghost!" his voice boomed from nowhere. "Rewrite the *ending*!"

Lisa grabbed the blood-slushie cup and hurled it at the screen.

The liquid ignited midair, becoming a flaming **X** that scorched the skin-canvas.

Batch 000 screamed as their filmstrip tongues ignited. The thing beyond the screen shrieked—a sound that liquefied time—as reality stitched itself shut.

When the smoke cleared, Lisa stood alone in a normal 7-Eleven.

- The slushie machine now dispensing *liquid void*

- The security feed showing Rabbit-0 as a child again, waving from a 1980s lab

- And the new tattoo on her wrist: **DIRECTOR 001**