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SYS.LOG // CYCLE 8492
The faint buzz of the intercom was the first thing Mark noticed each morning.
HE'D OPEN HIS EYES
TO THE FAMILIAR
RED LIGHT.
Knowing precisely what it meant.
Mark would exhale, the air feeling thin and metallic in his lungs, and press the green button beside his bed.
"Confirmed," he'd rasp, his throat dry.
He always confirmed. He had to.
FAILURE TO CONFIRM
WOULD BE... UNPLEASANT.
He'd seen what happened to others who didn't.
©
2026
David Evdoshchenko