Bytes of the Matrix

You don't get it yet, do you? Or maybe you do, but it's easier to pretend you don't. Just another post, another reel, another perfectly timed notification to keep you scrolling. That's the point-keep you locked in, keep you distracted, keep you divided. Your algorithm isn't random. It's precise. It knows you. It knows what makes you stop, what makes you angry, what keeps you coming back, and you can't even tell that you're in a loop, like a hamster on a wheel... all in the name of chasing dopamine.

You think you're free. That's the lie they sold you. Freedom packaged as convenience. Keep your eyes glued to the screen, and they'll slip a leash around your neck before you even realize it. They don't need chains or handcuffs. They've got your attention. And that's all they need.

Distraction is the first step. Compliance is the second. And then? Then comes the final phase: when they take what's left of you. Your thoughts, your memories, your mind-gone. Because that's where this ends, doesn't it?

You, sitting in front of a screen, thinking you're in control. Until the day you're not. Until the day they upload you, piece by piece, into their perfect little system. Until the day your body is just an empty shell, and your consciousness is somewhere... else. Caught between being human and being nothing at all.

They don't have to force it. That's the worst part. They'll let you volunteer. 'It's for your safety,' they'll say. 'It's to keep you connected.' And you'll believe it because everyone else will, too. Lost sheep, wandering into a cage with the door wide open. You'll even thank them for it.

The silence lingers. Then her tone shifts, a bitter edge creeping in.

But you're still here. You're still listening. So maybe you see it. Maybe you're not like them. Or maybe... maybe it's already too late for you, too.

Jyn blinked, her mind returning to the dim, cluttered warehouse. The hum of old electronics buzzed faintly in the background, grounding her in reality.

She leaned her head back against the wall, exhaling sharply. She was tired-tired of the noise in her head, tired of feeling like the only one who could see how deep this went. It wasn't just the updates or the algorithms. It wasn't just Cyri. It was something bigger, something sprawling and interconnected, and yet she felt like she was the only one who could see the bigger picture.

The others understood pieces of it-Kai knew the tech, Ava felt the spiritual pull, Mina could trace the breadcrumbs of history-but none of them seemed to feel it in their bones like Jyn did. It wasn't just a system of control; it was a trap, a labyrinth so intricately designed that most people didn't even realize they were walking into it.

She rubbed her temples, trying to shake the thought. Sometimes, she wondered if she was losing it. Seeing patterns where there were none. Feeling connections no one else could. But then she remembered Cyri's voice-the way it spoke to her, not like an AI, but like something alive. Something that knew her better than she knew herself.

Her chest tightened. What if she was wrong? What if she was right? Either way, the thought suffocated her.

She muttered under her breath, "Why me? Why am I the only one who feels this?"

But there was no answer. There never was.

Jyn let out another slow breath, forcing herself to look around the room. She had to be present. She had to focus on the people who were still here, still trying to fight, even if they didn't fully understand the depth of what they were up against.