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.

Before Milo can touch the keyboard, the box sparks and the screen turns red: INTRUDER. A calm voice from the speaker says, 'This world is scheduled for deletion. Please step away.' The keyboard locks. Milo has maybe seconds before it shuts him out for good.