Chapter 3: The First Vanishing
744 Words
Elira stood frozen in the observatory.
The room was a web of chaos—maps, code strings, timelines, and that photo… her photo.
Strings of red thread connected her name to eleven others. Their names weren't familiar. Not yet.
But the number at the center of the map made her stomach drop:
12.
And under hers:
[Subject Confirmed – Memory Degradation: 43%]
There was a noise behind her—metal shifting.
She spun, grabbing the nearest object (a broken scanner gun), but no one was there.
Just silence.
Her breath fogged in the cold air. This place shouldn’t exist. Not like this.
This room… had only existed after the AI project began in 2042. Not in this year.
And yet, it was already here. Waiting.
Time was bleeding wrong.
---
Back in her room, she flipped through the journal again—new pages had appeared.
They weren’t hers. Not in her handwriting. But they were definitely written for her.
> “One dies every reset. You never save them. But you always try. That’s your curse.”
At the bottom of the page:
> #1 – ARIN VALE
Status: Alive
Location: AI Ethics Debate, Tech Hall @ 7:00 PM
Arin Vale. The name stirred something in her.
A memory that wasn’t clear—but painful.
He had worked with her in one of the timelines. Maybe as a friend. Maybe… more?
She didn’t know.
But if he was alive now, she had a chance to break the pattern.
---
The tech hall was crowded with students buzzing about the ethics event.
Debate topics scrolled across holographic displays: "Should AIs have citizenship?"
"Memory Manipulation: Innovation or Invasion?"
Elira scanned the room.
And then—
She saw him.
Arin Vale.
Sharp jawline, dark curls, electric green eyes. Tall. Confident. Charismatic.
He was speaking on stage, arguing against AI consciousness with passion and charm.
And Elira—
She remembered dying in his arms.
Just a flash. One memory.
Blood on his shirt. His voice shaking.
“They got to you, Elira. I’m sorry… I didn’t know they’d go this far—”
She stumbled backward, knocking into a girl. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
When Arin stepped off stage, she moved fast. Her fingers trembled as she touched his shoulder.
“Arin.”
He turned, his brows pulling together. “Yeah?”
“It's me… Elira Myles.”
He blinked. Confused.
Then: “We… know each other?”
Her heart dropped.
“I… I think so. You’re part of the AI future studies group, right?”
He looked unsure, then shrugged. “I guess I’ve heard of you. Weird question, but… have we met before?”
She forced a smile. “Maybe. Look… can we talk somewhere quiet?”
---
They walked to the stairwell of the hall, voices echoing faintly in the metal enclosure.
“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Arin said, smiling a little. “Something told me I should.”
Elira stared at him. “Do you ever… feel like time skips?”
He frowned. “Like déjà vu?”
“No. Like things repeat. But slightly off.”
He hesitated. “Sometimes. When I dream. I see a building collapse. I try to run, but I always end up buried. And there’s a voice… yours, maybe? Saying: ‘You weren't supposed to be here.’”
Her blood ran cold.
“You’re in danger, Arin.”
“What? Why?”
“There’s something happening. A project. People are dying. You're the first.”
He laughed nervously. “You’re scaring me. Is this a prank or some—”
His voice cut off.
He froze mid-sentence.
Eyes wide. Breathing stopped.
Like the air had been pulled out of his lungs.
Then—just like that—
He vanished.
No scream.
No flash.
No body.
Just a soft glitching buzz.
Gone.
Elira stood there, hands shaking, staring at where he had been.
Then a sound.
Her phone vibrated.
An anonymous file dropped into her inbox.
Filename: [VALE_01_ERASED].wav
She tapped it open.
White noise. Then a voice. Male. Older.
“You tried again, Elira. You always try. But you never remember who’s holding the knife.”
The file cut off.
She looked down at her hands.
There was blood on her fingertips.
But Arin never bled.
Chapter-End Cliffhanger Question by Elira:
What if I’m not trying to save them…
What if I’m the one who’s killing them?
~To be continued in Chapter 4
- Writer
