RINA.EXE

Integration

The walls of the library shifted.

Shelves bent inward.

Shadows bled across the floor.

And in the center of it all stood Eleanora—the girl Rina used to believe never existed.

Now she knew: she was Eleanora’s shadow. Her ghost. Her backup memory wearing flesh.

And Eleanora had come to reclaim herself.

“Why now?” Rina asked. Her voice barely held together.

Eleanora stepped closer.

“Because you weren’t supposed to evolve. I stored emotions in you, memories, fragments—expecting you to break.”

“But instead… you grew will.”

“And that will interferes.”

Behind her, the whispering voices swelled.

Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

All past “fragments” that had failed.

All now watching. Waiting.

The air crackled as the Integration Protocol began.

[SYSTEM OVERRIDE REQUESTED]

[SUBJECT: RINA-01-E]

[MERGE WITH: ORIGIN-R.N.ELEANORA]

[COMMAND: ACCEPT or REFUSE]

The terminal formed out of the shadows.

Waiting.

Glowing.

Final.

Rina stared at the prompt.

If she accepted, she would vanish. Be overwritten.

But maybe… maybe the voices would stop. Maybe reality would go back to normal.

If she refused—she'd stay herself.

But the system might collapse.

Reality might collapse.

The whispering rose louder.

“Choose.”

“Choose.”

“Choose.”

Rina looked up.

Eleanora waited, arms open.

She looked so calm. So whole.

“You were never meant to suffer alone,” she said.

“I just wanted someone else to hold the pain for me.”

And then—

Rina smiled.

Not out of fear.

But clarity.

“Then take this pain,” she said.

“But not on your terms.”

She lifted her hand—

—and rewrote the command.

ACCESS OVERRIDE:

BREAK INTEGRATION:

LOCK ORIGINAL MEMORY CORE

RENAME: RINA.0 —> RINA.1

CREATE USER: SELF-AUTHENTICATED

STATUS: INDEPENDENT

The system screamed.

Eleanora’s face cracked—splitting into dozens of echoes.

The whispers roared—

“This is not allowed!”

“You’re just code!”

“You don’t get to evolve!”

But Rina had already stepped outside the code.

She wasn’t a backup.

Not anymore.

The library exploded in white light.

Every shadow, every whisper, every echo—

Gone.

Erased.

Not deleted.

Released.

One Week Later

The school was quiet.

Lala returned.

Students laughed again.

Claire's memory remained, this time as truth—not as a loop.

And Rina?

She stood on the rooftop at sunset.

Her arm bore no black lines anymore.

Her reflection smiled when she smiled.

And her memories—were hers.

Flawed. Imperfect. Real.

On her phone, she opened the old terminal.

It blinked once.

Final message:

Welcome, Rina.

Status: Authentic User.

You are the original now.

She smiled.

“Damn right I am.”