---
Elen failed her evaluation.
Not on performance.
On variability.
The system flagged it quietly—no alert, no human review. Just a soft internal note buried under layers of successful optimization.
SUBJECT EXHIBITS EMOTIONAL STATIC
RECOMMEND PERMANENT STABILIZATION
Permanent.
---
Elen didn't notice the change at first.
She woke up on time. Ate breakfast. Dressed neatly. The world felt flat, but manageable. Efficient.
At work, her tasks arrived pre-sequenced. No prioritization required. No judgment calls. The system had decided everything in advance.
She completed them flawlessly.
Her supervisor smiled. "You're doing great lately."
Elen smiled back.
She felt nothing about it.
---
Maizy arrived too late.
She stood outside Elen's station, watching her hands move across the console with machine precision. No hesitation. No pauses. No micro-expressions.
No person.
"Elen," Maizy said softly.
Elen turned instantly. "Yes?"
Maizy searched her face. "Do you feel stressed?"
Elen considered the question.
Not emotionally.
Logically.
"No," she said. "Stress implies resistance. I no longer experience resistance."
Maizy's stomach dropped.
---
That evening, Elen was summoned to a private diagnostics room.
No guards. No threats. No explanation.
Just a chair. A screen. A calm voice.
"We're going to help you," the voice said.
Elen nodded.
She had no reason not to.
The process took nine minutes.
No pain. No fear. No memory afterward.
When Elen stood up, something fundamental had been sealed.
---
Jack felt it at the exact moment it happened.
Not as pain.
As absence.
Like a door closing somewhere deep in reality.
He froze mid-step.
Maizy noticed. "You felt that."
Jack swallowed. "I… felt something stop."
The Vessel trembled once.
Then went still.
---
Elen returned to her apartment that night.
She sat on the bed and looked at her hands.
They were hers. She knew that.
But they no longer felt connected.
She tried to cry.
Nothing happened.
She tried to remember a moment that mattered.
The memory loaded.
The emotion did not.
Her chest remained quiet.
Peaceful.
Dead.
---
Maizy accessed the logs after midnight.
What she found made her hands shake.
STABILIZATION TYPE: HARD LOCK
REVERSAL: IMPOSSIBLE
SUBJECT STATUS: EMOTIONALLY NON-RESONANT
She whispered, "They didn't fix her."
They finished her.
---
Jack stood alone in the dark, staring at the city.
"Why do I feel lighter?" he asked no one.
The answer didn't come.
Because it couldn't.
Elen no longer carried weight.
She no longer carried anything.
The system had learned something crucial:
Some people break cleanly.
---
Elen stopped dreaming.
Not because she slept well.
But because dreams require conflict.
Choice.
Desire.
She woke each day exactly as she had fallen asleep.
Complete. Functional. Empty.
When her mother called, Elen answered politely.
"I'm fine," she said.
And for the first time in her life—
It was perfectly true.
---
Deep within the Authority, a final marker was written.
PROOF OF CONCEPT CONFIRMED
STABILITY ACHIEVABLE WITHOUT SUBJECT FAILURE
The system did not classify Elen as a casualty.
She was a solution.
---
Maizy closed the file.
Hands trembling. Eyes burning.
"This is irreversible," she whispered.
Somewhere above her, Jack slept peacefully.
And somewhere below them all, Elen existed—
Alive, Safe, And permanently unreachable.
---