The Echo Protocol
Chapter One: The Message
Rhea wasn’t expecting anything that morning—certainly not the message that would change her entire life.
The sky outside her apartment was bruised with early dawn clouds, the kind that made the world look stuck between sleep and waking. She stirred her coffee with one hand, scrolling through the news on her phone with the other, trying to ignore the creeping sense of déjà vu she’d been having for days.
And then her phone buzzed.
One new message.
Unknown Number
[3:41 AM]
"Your memories are not real. Check behind the mirror."
She froze.
It wasn’t a scam. It wasn’t a typo. The words felt… intentional. Heavy. As if whoever sent them knew exactly what to say to make her spine go cold.
Her apartment was small—one room, one mirror above the dresser, one creaky bed she never made. She stared at the mirror, her breath catching in her throat.
No way.
Rhea tapped the screen again. No follow-up. No typing dots. No contact name.
Her fingers hesitated. Then, moving like they belonged to someone braver, she stood up and walked toward the mirror.
It was an old thing—oval, edged with flaking silver trim. She had bought it from a thrift shop a year ago, or… at least, she thought she had. The memory of buying it suddenly felt foggy, like trying to recall a dream just out of reach.
She placed her hands on either side and lifted it gently from the wall.
Behind it was just drywall.
Except…
A tiny square indentation caught the light.
Rhea pressed it.
Click.
The wall panel slid open—mechanical, silent. A narrow compartment revealed itself, not dusty or abandoned. Inside was a black box. No wires. No buttons. Just a single silver chip the size of a coin and a slip of paper that read:
“If you’ve found this, you’ve already begun to wake up. Trust no one—not even yourself.”
Her heart thundered.
She stepped back. The world tilted. The ceiling spun, and then—
Nothing.
Just static.
Chapter Two: Reboot
Rhea woke on the floor.
At first, she thought she had fainted—but the lights in her room had changed. Her coffee mug was gone. Her curtains were open, even though she never opened them in the morning.
She sat up, groaning, and looked at her phone.
No missed messages. No new calls. The strange message had vanished.
The chip lay beside her. The paper note, too. That much, at least, was real.
She grabbed her phone and snapped a picture of the chip. But the screen stayed black. Camera frozen. She tried to text her friend Tara—nothing went through.
When she opened her laptop, the wallpaper had changed to a solid gray screen. A blinking cursor waited in the corner like it wanted her to type.
She hesitated.
Then typed:
Hello?
The screen replied instantly:
“Rhea 9.2.3 initiated.”
“Awakening 13% complete.”
“Proceed to Node 17.”
“What?” she whispered aloud.
A soft knock echoed at the door.
She jumped. Held her breath.
Another knock.
Three short taps. Familiar. Like how her dad used to knock when she was little.
She crept to the door and peeked through the peephole.
Nobody.
But on the floor lay a note. Plain, folded.
She opened it.
Node 17. Ask for Agent Marlow. You have 48 hours before full extraction. They’re watching you.
Her head spun. The edges of her reality were warping—like a curtain being pulled slowly from a stage she didn’t realize she was on.
Chapter Three: The Red Folder
By evening, Rhea couldn’t sit still. She wore a hoodie, kept the chip in her pocket, and took the train downtown. Every noise sounded suspicious. Every face looked familiar in the wrong way.
Node 17 was a run-down bookstore in the back corner of an alley near Canal Street. “Wren’s Books.” Closed sign hung crooked. The lights inside flickered.
Rhea pushed the door. It creaked open.
A bell jingled overhead.
“Hello?” she called softly.
A man stepped out from behind a tall shelf. Middle-aged. Wore round glasses. He looked at her like he’d been expecting her for years.
“You’re early,” he said.
“Are you Agent Marlow?”
He didn’t nod. Didn’t smile. Just turned and said, “Come.”
She followed him to a locked back room. Inside was a single table. On it lay a red folder.
He sat down across from her and motioned toward it.
“You’ve seen the chip, haven’t you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He tapped the folder. “Then you deserve to know what they took from you.”
Rhea opened it.
Photos. Maps. Medical files. And…
A list.
Her name was at the top:
Rhea Kael – Subject 9.2.3
Status: Reset Successful
Memory Wipe: 92fective
Risk Level: High
She stared at it. Her fingers trembled.
“What does this mean?”
“You were part of Project Echo,” he said quietly. “They created you. Then they buried who you were under false memories. You’re a sleeper. But now… you’re waking up.”
Final Chapter: The Original Rhea
The facility beneath Wren’s Bookstore was never supposed to exist. It didn’t appear on any map. Its corridors hummed with cold air and forgotten secrets.
Rhea followed Agent Marlow past a retinal scanner and through three heavy steel doors, each requiring both a voice command and the silver chip she carried.
Beyond the last door was a room full of cryotanks.
Inside one of them—floating in blue light, eyes closed—was her.
Or rather… another her.
She stumbled backward. “What… what is this?!”
Marlow didn’t flinch. “That’s the original you. Rhea 1.0. The template. You’re version 9.2.3—one of the few prototypes that became too aware. Too conscious.”
Rhea shook her head. “This is insane.”
“You were never meant to know. But someone inside the system sent that message. There’s a splinter group working against Echo now.”
Rhea stepped toward the tank. The girl inside it looked peaceful. Identical. Unscarred.
Marlow handed her a tablet.
“Your final choice. Shut down the original and stay awake—free, but hunted. Or restore her, erase yourself, and let the world continue as planned.”
Her hands trembled.
The tablet displayed two buttons:
[RECLAIM] or [ERASE]
“What if I do nothing?” she asked.
“Then both of you will die within the hour. They’re already sending a wipe drone. One of you has to survive.”
She looked at the girl in the tank. Was that the real Rhea? Or just the same shell… before the world broke her into something stronger?
Tears welled up in her eyes—but not out of sadness. Out of clarity.
She made her choice.
[RECLAIM]
She pressed it.
The tank hissed. Alarms started blaring. The girl inside stirred, eyelids fluttering open.
Marlow stared at her. “You did it. You’ve overwritten the original. You’re not a copy anymore. You’re the real Rhea now.”
The cryotank collapsed, spilling steam across the floor. The sleeping Rhea was no longer breathing. Her body… fading? Disintegrating?
The process was irreversible.
Suddenly, the alarms stopped.
The room was quiet again.
And then—on the wall—a new message flickered in red:
“CONGRATULATIONS, SUBJECT 9.2.3.
THE FINAL STAGE HAS BEGUN.
WELCOME TO LEVEL 2.”
Rhea looked up at Marlow.
But he was already dissolving into static.
And the world around her?
Flickering.
Like a simulation… rebooting.
THE END.
React
