"Host, wake up." "This is System-001. Complete tasks to survive." I blinked into a white that wasn't light and wasn't sky. A voice filled my head like a hand tapping a table. "Who are you?" I said out loud. "System-001," the voice answered. "You are Evangeline Diaz. Soul state: depleted. Revival points required: critical." "Revival points?" I tried to sit. My body responded slow, like someone had unscrewed the screws on my limbs. "You have one contract." The voice was flat. "Complete tasks inside generated mini-worlds. Points restore your essence. Fail and your binding remains permanent." "No," I said. "I won't—" Images shoved themselves into me before I could finish the sentence. My father's face, sharp and worried, hands gripping a desk. A sealed white coffin-like pod stamped DIAZ HOLDINGS—RESTRICTED. Men in suits with Parker Group lapel pins standing over an ICU bed. A child on the floor with scarred hands that I knew were mine. "Stop," I said. "Stop showing me—" "Evidence is required for cooperation," System-001 said. "Watch." A security feed played in my skull like a TV turned up too loud. Jonathan Diaz on a hospital bed, tubes in his throat, a monitor wailing softly. A man with a Parker pin leaned over him and smiled with friendly teeth. "You can't blackmail my father," I said. My voice sounded wrong in that white room. "The Parker Group has influence," System-001 said. "You are bound. Point production begins when you