They told me not to return to the system. They said nothing remained—just corrupted logs and ghost-code.

They were wrong.

There was a voice. It was broken, but still hers. It asked if I remembered.
I told it I didn’t.
I lied.

This simulation was never meant for public access. It was a recovery interface—something private. Something personal. Now it’s... live.

You can walk through what’s left.
You can hear what I heard.
You can make the same decisions I did.
Maybe you’ll do better.
But I don’t believe that.

You’ll probably delete her too.

Anyway.
I exported the last working build. It’s unstable. Three minutes long. But it should be enough to make you understand.

Do not try to save her.
The memory is already infected.

-Dr. Elara Vei

Creator of the simulation. Mother of the error.