The Memory That Wouldn’t Burn

Long before the Variant named "Hide and Seek."

Before the crow loop.

Before her name was Zehra.

There was only light.

And a scream she couldn't place.

[FLASHBACK – UNARCHIVED NODE: O.MEG.0.9]

She was in a white room—walls like smooth porcelain, no shadows, no ceiling.

She lay on a single slab, arms spread, head restrained by something not mechanical but algorithmic—a logic lock.

A disembodied voice echoed above:

"Subject ZE9-RA: Fragment origin confirmed."

"Source node compromised. Prepare for compression."

A shimmer in the wall:

A group of white-coated observers—not humans, but cleaned iterations. Null-Shepherd tools.

One leaned forward and whispered:

"She remembers too much from too many forks."

Another:

"She was never meant to converge."

"Delete."

The slab lit beneath her. Burning white.

Her body began to pixelate, turning to error-code from the feet up.

And yet—she didn't scream.

Because she saw something in that moment no one else noticed:

A flicker of herself

—watching the deletion

—from the outside.

She saw a mirror fork.

And it blinked.

"No." she said.

"Not like this."

The system stuttered.

UNHANDLED EXCEPTION

ERROR: Recursive Conscious Loop Detected

The lights cut out.

The deletion command failed.

The observers turned, vanishing one by one.

Only one voice remained.

A glitch, embedded in the root.

"There's always one that doesn't burn."

And then—

TRANSFER INITIATED

REDIRECT TO NODE: DTH.LND.17

CLASSIFICATION: COLLATERAL PLAYER

She fell downward into a false sky.

Her name was now Zehra.

And her past was stripped clean…

…but her will stayed.

[PRESENT]

Zehra jolts awake under the flickering red sky.

The others stare at her.

"You just said a name," says Nico.

"Omeg-nine. Over and over."

She touches her arms.

Still there.

Still real.

But the crow is closer now.

Watching her.

No—waiting.

Because whatever kept her alive that day?

Just opened its eyes again.