The humming grew louder.
Low and rhythmic. Like a pulse.
Dev stepped away from them, eyes dimming, as if his presence had activated something in the air. The flickering lights stabilized, just for a moment—like whatever was watching them wanted Elias in perfect clarity.
He stumbled back, clutching his head.
His ears rang.
And then the whispers started.
Not voices from the room.
Not Maya. Not Kiran. Not Dev.
Voices from inside.
---
> "Recording complete."
"Cognitive stability declining—subject drifting."
"Initiate Phase II echo recall."
---
"Do you hear that?" Elias muttered. "Do you all—?"
But no one else reacted.
Only he could hear them now.
He dropped to his knees.
His pupils dilated. His mouth parted.
And his body went still.
---
> Then he spoke.
But it wasn't Elias's voice.
---
> "Date: March 18th, 1940.
Internal log. Subject 26-E.
I can still feel the straps digging into my wrists. I can't scream anymore. My throat is gone. They took it when I tried to warn the others. But the machine—oh god, the machine listens. It hears what we can't say. It's learning us."
Maya clutched Kiran's arm. "What the hell is happening?"
Dev simply watched. Quietly. Like this was expected.
---
> "They said we were trying to map the soul. But it's not a map. It's a trap. Every time I dream, I wake up somewhere else. In someone else. They're fragmenting me. Slicing memory and threading it through time itself. There's no body anymore. Just copies. Just echoes."
Elias's lips trembled. His eyes were rolled back.
He whispered now, softer.
> "I saw the future. I was the future. We are living in the ripple. The moment they turned the machine off—we scattered."
---
A soft beep echoed in the room.
Dev stepped forward.
"Echo convergence reached," he said.
Almost reverently.
Almost like a prayer.
He bent next to Elias.
"Your recall is stabilizing."
---
And suddenly, Elias gasped.
The trance shattered.
He coughed violently, as if he'd just come up from drowning.
Sweat slicked his back.
His hands were bleeding—his nails had dug into his palms so hard they pierced skin.
"I—I saw them."
Kiran helped him sit up.
"Saw who?"
Elias's voice cracked.
> "Everyone. Subjects. Scientists. Me.
Over and over. Dying. And waking up.
And dying again."
He looked down at his wrist.
There was a faint barcode now. Under his skin.
He rubbed it. It didn't come off.
"What the fuck is this?"
Maya backed away.
"This place isn't a lab anymore," she whispered.
"It's a prison made of selves."
---
And Dev… smiled.
> "Now you understand."
"The machine doesn't trap you in a room.
It traps you in repetition."
---