At 4:07 p.m. the sky stuttered. For one second the sunset froze, then rewound, and the same orange cloud slid back over the same rooftop twice. Milo blinked. He'd seen the seam. Then pale words scrolled up along the horizon: WORLD_07 - scheduled for deletion in 71 hours. His phone buzzed. The screen showed the exact same words.

Milo figures the words came from somewhere, so he chases them. The text was scrolling toward the old radio tower on Hartley Hill. He grabs his bike and pedals hard, the sky flickering above him every few minutes like a video stuck on a bad loop.

At the radio tower Milo finds a humming metal box bolted to the base, covered in blinking lights. A small screen reads: ADMIN ACCESS REQUIRED. Below it, a single keyboard waits, and the cursor blinks like it's been waiting for him.

Milo types the only thing he knows: his own name. The screen flashes ADMIN ACCEPTED. A menu appears with two buttons: DELETE WORLD_07 and BACK UP WORLD_07. His hand shakes over the keyboard. One wrong tap and everything is gone.