Zachary lay curled on a hard, sagging mattress in a dark basement apartment that reeked of mildew.
His clothes were still soaked from the rain. In both hands, he clutched the wooden figurine he had painstakingly pieced back together.
His phone lit up. An email had arrived from an anonymous address.
His fingers trembled as he opened it.
For one desperate moment, he thought I had changed my mind. Maybe I had sent him money. Maybe I was giving him a chance to start over.
Instead, the email contained a ZIP file labeled "Neural Implant Archive: Behavioral Response Logs".
He opened it.
At first, he assumed it contained the AI system's operating records, perhaps even the code I had used to falsify the acquisition figures.
Then he opened the first report. His eyes widened. His breath stopp
