Lira stepped into the energy module, her eyes scanning the scene before her. Her colleague was already at work, crouched over the electricity cables. He was unplugging and reconnecting power plugs in an attempt to restart the system.

"You're finally here," he said, turning to frown at her, "Tardy isn't good for efficiency, its hard to forget all this when the Harmonic Voice repeats that inside your head a thousand times each day."

"Are you here to chastise me or to help?" Lira shot back.

"Just a friendly reminder, unless you want your resonance points deducted."

"Let's just get to work," she muttered, walking toward the control center of the module. Her fingers danced across the buttons, navigating the paths through the system's interface. She paused at the energy generation section, pointing toward the mechanism. "This part is broken."

"Got it." Her colleague straightened up, carefully returning the reconnected cables to their box. He grabbed a wrench and approached the mechanism sitting at the center of the room.

Lira stepped back, watching him work. His movements were efficient and precise, his hands shifting from one component to the next, as if he had done this countless times before, which of course he did. For a moment, he looked like an unthinking, flawless automaton following instructions without hesitation, resembling the machine.

"Done," he announced after a while.

Lira glanced at her watch. It was 11:00 PM. "We'd better get going," she said, stepping out of the energy module and into the night. The cold wind greeted her, biting against her skin, as the eerily silent city stretched out before her, although every night was the same as enforced by the Harmonic Voice.

By the time she reached the pod station, it was already 11:15 PM. The sight of the electric pods moving mechanically reminded her of her colleague—fixing the mechanism as if he were a mindless robot, robbed of independent thought, entirely under the control of a system greater than himself. Without realizing why, she took off her watch. Was it exhaustion shuffling her thoughts, or a deeper fear of becoming just like him?

The absence of the watch on her wrist felt strange, strangely free. Lira knew the Harmonic Voice could still monitor her anywhere in Echo Prime, yet she felt that unfamiliar sense of freedom. Just one night, she told herself, embracing this fleeting defiance.

That night, she placed her watch face-down on the table, hiding its ever-glowing screen. Lying on her bed, she stared at the stars, their brightness cutting through the city's darkened skies. They shimmered vividly, untouched and free. Would she ever be like them? Free from the Voice's control, able to reunite with her family?

Lira closed her eyes, holding on to that fragile hope as sleep claimed her.

The next morning, Lira was startled awake by the blaring alarms of the Harmonic Voice. The sound tore through the silence, sharp and relentless, as if designed to shatter her very own thoughts.

The moment the system acknowledged her awakening, the cacophony abruptly ceased, replaced by an even more unnerving monotone. "Technician Valen, I assume you are aware of your actions last night."

The flatness of the Voice's tone only amplified the oppressive atmosphere, sending a chill down Lira's spine, as if a snake slithered down, causing her to slightly shiver. She furrowed her brows, struggling to piece together what the Voice referred to. She had left the energy module building, reached the pod station, and... took off her watch.

Her eyes widened, and her face turned pale simultaneously. Lira hitched her breath. What in the world had possessed her to do this—something so reckless? Had she lost her mind?

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if a mice has squeaked instead of her. She bit her tongue sharply, as if the sting of pain could somehow compensate for her lapse in judgment.

"Then I presume you understand the consequences," the Voice continued. Its tone remained flat, yet carrying an underlying menace, like the calm before a storm, or a hurricane.

"Ten points deducted." The words fell like a hammer. "I must remind you that compliance to protocol is mandatory. Noncompliance leads to ramifications that are likely unfavorable for you. You currently have five resonance points remaining before your demote to the Lower Sector. I trust you are aware of what such a disregard means and have no desire to experience it."

Lira's heart sank as the words sank in. She had acted impulsively, caught in an evanescent moment of rebellion. The rush of freedom she'd felt last night now seemed foolish, almost childish. What had she hoped to achieve by removing her watch, as if that one act could bring her freedom forever? She felt the weight of her actions settle on her like a heavy, invisible mountain. There was no escaping Echo Prime's laws—not even in her mind.

She pressed her palm to her forehead, trying to cool down the storm of feelings raging inside her — sadness that she couldn't do anything about it, anxiety of what might happen next if she made a mistake again, and regret of breaking the rules. She exhaled shakily, naively wishing she could rewind time, but in Echo Prime, there was no room for mistakes. No second chances. Lira knew she'd have to live with the consequences of her reckless decision. She could only hope the next mistake wouldn't cost her everything.

"Now that you are clear with the ramifications, I do have to remind you to be on time for the technician assembly tonight at 7pm," the Harmonic Voice said.

"Understood," Lira replied, fastening her watch back on her wrist.

"Very well."

As soon as Lira couldn't sense the presence of the Harmonic Voice, the string of calmness she would trying to maintain snapped. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, as if releasing these streams of tears could relieve herself of the burdening pressure. She knew she was supposed to be strong, she was trained to endure the pressure of this society. But after all, she was only twenty, just a young technician burdened by the oppressive expectations of a world that left no other room for errors.

Lira sat on the cold floor, clutching her knees, as the weight of Echo Prime bore down on her.




By the time she got to the assembly, Lira's face had regained its usual mask of composure. She had forced her tears to dry, not out of strength, but out of the unrelenting pressure to conform. There was no room for vulnerability in Echo Prime. No room for weakness.

The technician assembly hall was sterile and impersonal, just like every other part of Echo Prime. Rows of identical seats were filled with technicians and workers, all staring straight ahead, all wearing the same expressionless faces. The voice of the Harmonic Voice filled the entire room, projecting its routine announcements and orders.

Lira found her seat, slipping into it word. The others barely glanced at her. She kept her head down, focusing on the screen at the front of the room where the Voice's commands would be displayed.

"Technician Valen," the Harmonic Voice's voice crackled through the speakers, breaking the silence. "Report on the progress of the energy system restoration. Please ensure it is delivered promptly and efficiently."

The others had already begun to speak in soft, synchronized tones. Lira's own voice caught in her throat as she stood on the podium to present. Lira cleared her throat, her hands gripping the podium tightly. "The energy system renovation is complete," she said, her voice steady, though her mind raced in a search of words. "The damaged components were replaced, and the entire mechanism is fully operational now. The issue was identified as a simple malfunction in the energy wire, which has now been repaired."

The words flowed easily, as if it was rehearsed. The only reason was clear: she couldn't afford to hesitate. Any sign of doubt, any pause, might be seen as inefficiency, and that was something the Voice could not tolerate.

"Thank you, Technician Valen," the Voice responded coldly. "Your report has been noted. Please ensure that all systems are monitored until further notice."

Lira nodded quickly, retreating from the podium as the next technician walked on to began their report. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. It was over now. Another task completed, another step taken in the relentless march of duty.

She sat back down, her mind replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours. The moment of rebellion, of taking off her watch, how absurd it seemed now. But that brief flicker of defiance was still there, buried deep inside her. A small ember, struggling to stay alive in the suffocating control of the Harmonic Voice.

As the assembly continued, Lira's gaze wandered to the window, where the city of Echo Prime lay in its mechanical stillness. The cold, calculated order of it all. How long could she endure this? How long could anyone endure this?

But no one questioned. No one spoke up. They were all too afraid of what would happen if they did.

The Harmonic Voice, after all, was always listening.