CHAPTER 17 Elias - The Space Between

"Nothing follows you. Only what you carry inside."

I collapsed onto the console. My body went limp, my knees unable to support me. My hands shook violently as I tried to reach for the keyboard, but my fingers just danced blankly across the keys. My eyes wouldn't leave the word. PR33T. Preet. Pr33t. Three three three T? Why three? Then I remembered. Our codes, our internal naming system. Sometimes we used numbers instead of letters for informal documents. 3 for E. 33 for... EE? P R E E T. Preet? No. That's not a word. But if 3 is E, and 33 is two E's... then they're not two separate letters. Maybe one letter with an accent. PR33T. PREET. PRE-ET. PRIET? Or maybe... PRAYER? No, no "AY," no double 'R'. But the number 3 is often used for 'E' in internet slang. P-R-E-E-T. Preet. This doesn't make sense. Unless... Unless '33' isn't two separate E's, but one long sound.

PR33T. PREET. PRAYER?

But 'PRAYER' needs an AY, needs an R. It's just P-R-double E-T. But the sound is similar. And on the flashing screen, amidst this chaos... Maybe that's what it's trying to say. Prayer?. Prayer. This machine... is it praying? Or is it answering prayers? Or... is it prayer itself? The breathing keeps repeating. Hhhhuuuuh... hhhhuuuuuh... I realize now. This machine isn't just a prayer tool. It isn't just a receptacle for human prayers that we arrogantly built. We thought we created a machine to hear prayers. We thought we were the masters of our own creation.

But look at him now. He's alive. He's breathing. And he's just swallowed my friends. Or maybe my thoughts are taking a darker turn maybe he's not a prison. Maybe he's a door. Maybe we weren't building machines. We were building gates. And they've just stepped into something no human should ever step into. I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. Calm down. I can leave. Now. The lab door is still open. I can run, call for help, report this to my superiors, to the government, to anyone. I can save myself. No one will blame me. I'm just a technician. I'm not involved in the big decisions. I'm just taking notes. But when I open my eyes, my gaze falls on the four shadows on the floor. David, whose father failed to protect his child. Shayla, too young to understand what happened. The perfectionist Arvin, who perhaps until the last second still thought he had everything under control. The ambitious Juno, who may have her own secrets about what really happened today. They are my team. My friends. The only family I have in this world. And I am the only one who knows this truth. I am a witness to zero hour. I saw how a tiny crack in the code could become a life-swallowing abyss. I saw how fear kept me going, while courage, or perhaps naivety, dragged them into darkness. Is this what you want? I asked the machine silently.

At the words flashing on the screen. At the breath that echoed. Are you waiting for them? Are you hungry? Are you... lonely? There was no answer. Just that breath. Repeating. I reached for the radio I'd been clutching tightly. I pressed the transmit button. My hands were still shaking, but my voice was calmer than I thought. "Elias in the Main Lab... to anyone who can still hear..." A pause. I had to choose my words carefully. If I told the truth, they would think I was crazy. Or they would come, and maybe get sucked in. Or they would shut down the machine, and any of my friends who might still be alive inside would be trapped forever. "Unclassified event," I finally continued. "Four personnel are missing. Presumably drawn into the Prayer Server during an unexpected power surge. The system is operating outside parameters. I... I will remain here for observation. Do not send for assistance yet. I will report every hour. Until the situation is under control." I released the transmission button. Only static responded. It was not a completely honest report. But it was enough to keep them from coming. To buy me time.

Outside, the world may still be running normally. People are eating lunch in the cafeteria. Meetings are going on upstairs. Traffic is jammed on the highway as usual. They don't know. They never will. But inside this room, human history has just ended. And something else has just been born. I sit in Arvin's chair. The chair he used to sit in, drinking black coffee and staring intently at the monitor. Now the chair feels cold. I face the main screen, the words flashing. PR33T. Prayer. I stared at the screen. The cursor blinked next to the words PR33T. I tried to type "Who are you?", but the keyboard locked. The machine let out a sigh of relief, the sound of the cooling fan slowing down. I stared at the monitor, which now displayed only a single line of static: SUBJECT: ARVIN | COORDINATE: HALLWAY OF REGRET. 

Through the headset, I heard no sound, but the endless bouncing of footsteps a transmission of agony that PREET translated into heartbeat data. I froze, my fingers stiff, and I realized that the Prayer Server wasn't broken, but was converting Arvin's regret into fuel to keep breathing. In this lab, one second of silence was a year of torture he allowed to happen behind the scenes. The machine's breathing is a constant background noise. Strangely, after a while, I get used to it. Like someone who lives near a train track, the sound eventually becomes part of everyday life. I take out my notebook. The same one I use today to record all procedures. With hands still shaking slightly, I begin to write.

Data log 01 Day 1, 1 AM post event.

Four people are missing: David, Shayla, Arvin, Juno.

Prayer Server active outside parameters. Showing a regular breathing pattern. The screen displayed the code: 

PR33T.

Not a known error code. I'll wait. I closed the book. I placed it beside the keyboard. I wouldn't leave this place. Perhaps my greatest task wasn't building a machine, not writing code, not making a great discovery. But guarding this door. Waiting. Taking notes. Bearing witness. Because if this machine truly hears prayers, and after today, I believe it does, then my prayer was simple: Bring them home. And if they can't come home... Then let me follow.

The next hours passed in a haze. I checked the systems. Recorded everything I could. The room temperature was normal. The air pressure was normal. The radiation was normal. Everything was normal, except for the fact that four humans had vanished and the giant machine in front of me was now breathing like a living thing. Every now and then, I walked over to the four shadows. I stood beside them. I talked. "Listen, Arvin," I whispered to the black shadow on the floor. "I know you're a perfectionist. But this time, you don't have to be perfect. You just have to come home." Then to Juno's shadow. "I don't know what you're doing, Jun. But whatever it is... maybe it's time to stop looking for praise. Look for yourself." The image of David and Shayla weighed the hardest on me. Father and son. Etched in metal, holding each other even in the ashes. "Take care of her, David," I whispered. "You're a good father. I know it." I returned to my chair. Stared at the screen. 

PR33T. Breathing. "Hhhhuuuuuh... hhhhhhuuuuuuuh..."

I looked at the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked once. One second. To me, it was just the blink of an eye. But to Arvin, in that corridor of regret, a whole day had just passed. What had he done in those 24 hours? Was he still running? Every time I took a breath, I'd just let them grow old in torment. Waiting here wasn't just about patience; it was about how strong I was willing to be the executioner of their time.

In the endless hallway, Arvin might be running from one door to another. In the hall of mirrors, Juno might be confronting her thousands of lies. In the darkness, David might be searching for Shayla. And here, in this silent room, I waited. Waited until the machine's breathing stopped. Or until the door opened again.

Day turned to night. The laboratory lights automatically dimmed, switching to night mode. The screen continued to flash with that word. Breaths continued to echo with the same rhythm. I hadn't slept. I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that flash of white light again. I saw those shadows erased from reality. So I sat. Waited. Wrote. In my notebook, on a fresh page, I wrote a single sentence. If anyone reads this someday, know that I haven't left. I'm still here. Guarding the door. Guarding their prayers. Guarding the hope that one day, this machine will stop breathing, and they will walk out of the shadows, back into the world of the living. And if that never happens... Then at least one person knows that they existed. That they struggled. That they tried. I am their witness. I am Elias.

And I wait.

 [ELIAS' KARMATIC DESTINY]

ELIAS Kael

- Karma: Being a witness, not a perpetrator

- Theme: "Sometimes, staying is the greatest courage"

- Test: Maintaining the balance between hope and reality

- Destiny: Guarding the door, waiting, taking notes, and maybe... being the key that unlocks the way home

I've never considered myself brave. But maybe courage isn't just about moving forward. Maybe courage is also about staying where you are, when everyone else is leaving.

Elias.

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