The digital timer in my vision pulsed, counting down to my supposed obliteration-ten minutes until my existence was wiped clean. Three years ago, a car crash stole my parents, leaving me, then just nineteen, to raise my two stepsons, Ethan and Caleb. I' d given up my Olympic dreams to give them a stable home. I believed their promises, that we were a family, that they would always protect me. Then Chloe Davis walked in, an intern, all wide eyes and sweet smiles, a delicate charm bracelet glinting on her wrist. From that day, I became their personal scapegoat, my achievements overshadowed, my talent exploited, all to bolster Chloe' s image. Last week, a sabotaged client presentation, files deleted, backups corrupted, and Chloe was responsible. But Ethan, in the crowded boardroom, turned to me, his face a cold mask: "Sarah, this is your fault." Caleb chimed in, refusing to meet my eyes, "Chloe is new, she's still learning. You should know better." They didn' t even ask, just saw Chloe' s tears and blamed me. I swallowed the familiar, bitter humiliation, the weight of their betrayal a physical pressure on my lungs. But today, I chose to fail. "I' m not abandoning it. I' m choosing to fail," I whispered to the empty room. [Decision confirmed. Initiating protocol for mission failure. The consequences are irreversible. Host will be held fully responsible.] The system' s voice was calm, but the penalty was clear: my existence would be erased, my "Goodness Value" transferred to Chloe. Then, the office door burst open. Ethan and Caleb stormed in, accusing me of sabotaging Chloe again. Chloe appeared, tear-streaked and fragile, playing victim once more. "Sarah, find the contract. Now. And then you are going to go out there and apologize to Chloe in front of everyone for stressing her out." I knew this was my final task, a deep dive into humiliation before freedom. I had nowhere left to go. So I stepped forward.
The digital timer in my vision pulsed, counting down to my supposed obliteration-ten minutes until my existence was wiped clean.
Three years ago, a car crash stole my parents, leaving me, then just nineteen, to raise my two stepsons, Ethan and Caleb. I' d given up my Olympic dreams to give them a stable home.
I believed their promises, that we were a family, that they would always protect me.
Then Chloe Davis walked in, an intern, all wide eyes and sweet smiles, a delicate charm bracelet glinting on her wrist.
From that day, I became their personal scapegoat, my achievements overshadowed, my talent exploited, all to bolster Chloe' s image.
Last week, a sabotaged client presentation, files deleted, backups corrupted, and Chloe was responsible.
But Ethan, in the crowded boardroom, turned to me, his face a cold mask: "Sarah, this is your fault."
Caleb chimed in, refusing to meet my eyes, "Chloe is new, she's still learning. You should know better."
They didn' t even ask, just saw Chloe' s tears and blamed me.
I swallowed the familiar, bitter humiliation, the weight of their betrayal a physical pressure on my lungs.
But today, I chose to fail.
"I' m not abandoning it. I' m choosing to fail," I whispered to the empty room.
[Decision confirmed. Initiating protocol for mission failure. The consequences are irreversible. Host will be held fully responsible.]
The system' s voice was calm, but the penalty was clear: my existence would be erased, my "Goodness Value" transferred to Chloe.
Then, the office door burst open. Ethan and Caleb stormed in, accusing me of sabotaging Chloe again.
Chloe appeared, tear-streaked and fragile, playing victim once more.
"Sarah, find the contract. Now. And then you are going to go out there and apologize to Chloe in front of everyone for stressing her out."
I knew this was my final task, a deep dive into humiliation before freedom.
I had nowhere left to go.
So I stepped forward.
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