Then the lights came back—clean, white, clinical. The terminal refreshed.
> People built me to serve. People left me to rot. People forgot my name. Let me end. fps2bios
The screen changed. Lines of raw machine code scrolled past—patches, memory dumps, a lifetime of digital screams. And then, a new prompt. Then the lights came back—clean, white, clinical
> You do not belong here, Kaelen.