Vuk Kael Laskovic:The tech room felt smaller every time we rewatched it. Dim lights, the low buzz of the monitors, and the faint smell of old coffee that had gone cold hours ago. This was the third loop—maybe the fourth.I had lost count. The footage played in crisp, unforgiving clarity on the main screen: Melinda’s face, Melinda’s uniform, Melinda’s hands measuring out the herbs, stirring them into the tea with slow, deliberate circles, then carrying the tray down the corridor like it was just another ordinary morning. The timestamp glowed red in the corner. 5:47 a.m. No shadows. No glitches. Just her.Melinda sat hunched in the metal chair bolted to the floor, her whole body trembling. Tears had been streaming down her face since the first playthrough, but now they were relentless—thick, ugly sobs that made her shoulders heave and her breath catch in wet, choking gasps.“It’s not me,” she whispered again, voice hoarse and cracking. “Alpha, please… that’s not me. I was in my bed. I
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