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 was bleeding again.

Lisa watched the viscous crimson liquid pool around her boots, its metallic tang mixing with the stale coffee stench of the 7-Eleven. The calendar behind the register still read June 14, 2024, but the numbers now dripped like melted wax. Her Director's tattoo—a phantom limb she could still feel—itched beneath layers of fresh bandages.

Outside, the parking lot stretched into a funhouse mirror of itself, asphalt warping into impossible angles. A child's laughter skittered across the void.

*The girl. Her shadow. Herself.*

Three days had passed since Lisa erased the Audience. Three days of:

- Phantom projectors hummed in empty alleys

- Popcorn kernels bloomed into fleshy flowers overnight

- Her reflection sometimes *waved back*

- A crayon drawing taped to the cooler: *Lisa holding hands with a stick-figure shadow*

- A VHS tape labeled **BATCH 000: DELETED SCENES**

- A single lavender seed, pulsing like a heart

- Rabbit-17 (or someone wearing his face) sipping Code Red at 3:17 AM

- Lora-9's voice on dead payphones: *"They're rewriting the script without you"*

- And *her*. Always her. The child in the dark.

Lisa played it at midnight, the static resolving into a scene that stopped her breath:

*Lora Prime, young and trembling, injects a child with shimmering serum. The girl thrashes—Lisa's face, Lisa's scream. A camera pans to reveal Rabbit-0 sketching nearby, tears smudging his crayons.*

**LORA PRIME (whispering):** *"You'll save them all. My little ghost."*

The screen cut to the present-day 7-Eleven. The child version of Lisa stood behind the counter, slushie machine parts scattered around her like entrails.

**CHILD LISA (to camera):** *"You left me with* **their** *story. Now I'm making a better one."*

Lisa found the girl in the stockroom, her small hands wrist-deep in the slushie machine's guts. The air reeked of burnt sugar and amniotic fluid.

"You shouldn't be here," the child said, not turning around. "This is *my* loop now."

The walls pulsed. Lisa's stolen memories played on repeat:

- Her first kiss (a distraction during a heist)

- The moment she'd abandoned the child to the dark

"They're coming back," the girl continued, withdrawing a *new machine core*—a pulsing orb of light and teeth. "And I'm giving them a *better show*."

Lisa's knife trembled. She could:

1. **Destroy the core** (and the child)

2. **Take it** (become Director again)

3. **Walk away** (let the story die)

The child smiled, blood slushie dripping from her palms. "Don't you want to know how it ends?"

Outside, the first Audience member materialized—a faceless silhouette clutching ticket stubs. Then another. And another.

The Afterimage