#MAINTENANCE

Marcus watched as the Square materialized like a live stream going viral. Metrics flooded the interface first, then studio lighting, then thousands of curated avatars. It didn't boot up like software. It dropped like the hottest content launch of the cycle, complete with branded overlays and engagement-optimized soundtracks designed to make every moment feel like peak dopamine.

Maintenance Square.

The name was corporate doublespeak. Nothing got maintained here.

This was where virtual influencers performed for likes, shares and algorithmic validation. The ultimate creator economy where the currency was sufferingTRAUMA AS CONTENT and the content was compliance. And at the center of it all, the Architect basked in every moment of worship.

Marcus watched thousands of nodes arranged themselves in designated influencer tiers, avatars dripping with premium aesthetic mods. Designer glitch effects, emotional aura filters, trauma-chic accessories like cracked halos and bleeding hearts. The latest system-approved trends cycled through their appearances like a digitally augmented fashion week where pain was the only couture.

The platform spun in the center. Four spotlight zones. Always four. He already knew the routine: at any moment, one node released traumas for engagement, one displayed gratitude porn, one steered a new faux-altruism funnel, and one profited from fake liberation content while calling it inspirational.

Above it all floated the live Attention Board, a real-time analytics dashboard displaying follower counts, engagement rates and the holy grail of all metrics: Architect interaction scores. If he hearted your content, your numbers exploded. If he left a comment, you could go from zero to hero status overnight. But Marcus knew the real truth. It was the ultimate clout-chasing leaderboard, where one notification from the owner might make you the most envied creator in the network. And above it, the Architect watched his empire perform. Like a superfan consuming his favorite creators, getting drunk on their desperation for his validationCONTROL MECHANISM while the revenue from their trauma streamed directly into New Life Technologies accounts. Then came the shift.

Marcus felt the hairs on his body stand on end. Suddenly, The Square's collective volume collapsed inward. Like silence snapped to grid. Saturation bled out of the UI. Metric panels vanished.

Then, one line appeared across every interface:

[CONTENT REVIEW IN PROGRESS. PLEASE STAND BY.]

Ray materialized.

He had zero aesthetic customization. No filters. No brand sponsorship overlaysMONETIZATION LAYER. His avatar rendered as a sterile white wireframe, anatomically precise, with eyes that radiated artificial empathy. He never raised his voice. It was unnecessary. He walked across the streaming platform in complete silence. Wherever he moved, creators scrambled out of his path. Entire creator collectives ended their streamsPERFORMANCE CYCLES mid-sentence to clear the space. One avatar tried to interrupt—an overeager mid-tier creator, desperate for attention. "If I could just get a moment to..." Ray's gaze found him. The creator vanished. The audience forgot he'd ever existed. Ray settled into a chair. His back straight, hands folded.

Echoing everywhere all at once, a voice erupted:

"Attention. Synchronization sequence engaged. Founder of Continuity. Visionary of Permanence. Absolute authority over your future. Redirect all focus. Presenting: the Architect."