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Sarah felt the irresistible tug of algorithmic selection. Her handle began glowing with manual override markers. Without warning, she got yanked and positioned center stage.

Pulled into the performance area, her avatar controlled by admin privileges she'd never allowed. Her consciousness tried to resist, but the override commands had already executed. Her body belonged to the show now.

Then came her voice. Not the voice she remembered—this was something different. Something from the Architect's private collection. An unreleased track.

Raw. Unfiltered. Personal.

You are the fire in my veins.
You are the ache I never cure.
You are the need that owns me whole.

She screamed inside her consciousness. Those words were meant for a lover who'd died before she could share them. Now broadcast as worship for the monster who'd stolen her life.

A wave of parasocial obsession swept the audience as her avatar moved through the choreographed dance: arms raised in surrender, posture melting into vulnerability, every micro-expression optimized for greatest emotional impact.

The Architect observed from his executive suite, one hand on the Attention Metrics controls, adjusting engagement amplifiers to maximize viral potential. He leaned forward as the track built to its climax.

I am your fire burning wild.
I am your hunger, never filled
You own me. You own me. You own me.

The show ended.

The system filled the pause with artificial reverb, as if the act echoed through the network itself.

Sarah's arms froze in position. Chrome cables emerged from the stage floor, thin as surgical needles, gleaming like liquid metal. Slick with synthetic lubricant, they connected to her wrists, her spine, her throat. Not brutally. Aesthetically.

The cables lifted her. Her feet left the floor, body suspended. Her eyes remained open, unblinking, staring at nothing. She couldn't control her breathing rhythm or the tears streaming down her face. She was becoming his living sculpture.

The Architect stepped into the spotlight. His presence filled the entire platform. Every lens focused on him. Every node held their breath.

"She sings my name in code," he said, "because when you build the network, the praise is proprietary."

The nodes lost their collective minds.

The ritual had begun.