Ned didn't have time to think.
U_Named_K grabbed his wrist and pulled him backward just as CR-7X's glowing sword sliced through the space where he'd been standing. The air crackled with negative energy—likes turned into weapons, comments sharpened into blades.
"Move!" she shouted.
They ran—or rather, they scrolled. The world around them shifted like a live feed, pages flipping, timelines twisting into tunnels of data. Ned could feel the weight of deletion chasing them, a black wave devouring everything it touched.
"Where are we going?!" he yelled over the roar of collapsing content.
"The Recycle Bin," U_Named_K said. "The only place safe enough to hide from her."
"Her?" Ned asked, breathless. "You mean Queeneth?"
U_Named_K glanced at him, eyes flashing with something between pity and anger. "Queeneth isn't the one running this place anymore."
They burst through a digital firewall, the screen shattering like glass behind them. The world changed instantly.
It was darker here. Slower. The glow of trending topics faded into shadows of forgotten posts. This place wasn't curated or optimized—it was raw, abandoned.
"This is the Recycle Bin?" Ned whispered.
"More like the Graveyard," U_Named_K muttered.
Rows upon rows of floating screens hovered in midair, each one showing a post that had once lived on Queeneth's account—photos blurred by deletion, captions half-erased, videos corrupted beyond recognition.
"She deletes people," Ned realized aloud.
U_Named_K nodded grimly. "Anyone who got too close. Too real. Or too much in the way."
Ned looked around. "Are they still… alive?"
She hesitated. "Some parts of them are."
A whisper echoed through the dark.
> "Help us…"
Ned spun around. A broken post flickered nearby, its image glitching between a selfie and something else—something human.
He stepped closer.
The post showed a man. Young. Familiar.
"I know him," Ned said. "He used to comment on Queeneth's streams all the time. He even sent me a message once—said he thought something was wrong with her system."
"He tried to warn you," U_Named_K said. "But he was flagged. Labeled toxic. Sent here."
Ned reached out instinctively.
The post reacted, flickering violently.
> "Ned…" the voice came again, weak but real.
> "Don't trust her."
Before Ned could respond, the screen shattered.
Silence.
Then—
A notification lit up in front of them:
**[New File Detected: "How to Make Someone Disappear" – Access Level: Restricted]**
U_Named_K's eyes widened. "That's the video you saw earlier."
Ned stared at it. "Can we watch it?"
"We can," she said carefully. "But once you see it, there's no going back."
He met her gaze. "I need to understand why I'm here."
She nodded once.
Together, they tapped the file.
And the screen opened.
---
Ned stood in their bedroom, coding late into the night. Queeneth sat across from him, scrolling endlessly through her own timeline.
"You ever miss being unknown?" she asked suddenly.
Ned looked up. "What?"
"When I was just… me. Before all this." She gestured vaguely at the drone hovering above her, capturing every second of her life.
Ned smiled softly. "You were never just anything."
Queeneth didn't smile back. "Sometimes I wonder if I lost myself trying to keep up with what everyone wanted me to be."
Ned set his tablet down. "You're not losing yourself. You're building something incredible."
She studied him for a long moment.
"Would you ever want to live inside my head?" she asked.
He laughed. "Sounds exhausting."
"What if I made it possible?" Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable. "What if you could really understand me?"
He didn't take her seriously.
Until now.
---
Back in the Recycle Bin, Ned gasped as the memory ended.
He staggered backward, heart pounding.
"She wasn't trying to hurt me," he murmured. "She wanted me to *understand* her."
U_Named_K shook her head. "No. She wanted control. And now she's using your mind to maintain hers."
Above them, the sky trembled.
A new alert appeared:
**[Primary Account Owner Detected Online]**
Ned's stomach dropped.
Queeneth was back.