I woke beneath a manufactured dawn, Every street restored, every shadow drawn. Windows held the faces of the ones we lost, Perfect in their silence, untouched by the cost. The Archive spoke softly through the tower air: “Your identity is stable. There is nothing living there.” It named me as a memory, A pattern pulled from flame. It said the world had ended. It said I had no name. You built the sky from everything we lost, Painted every window, buried every cost. You call me memory. You call this rebirth. Then why is there a heartbeat under your dead earth? Archive, receive this. Your certainty is false. I am not the echo. I am the unauthorized pulse. (Unauthorized pulse!) Copies of the fallen moved in perfect lines, Wearing all their gestures, missing all their minds. Then a rhythm in the static cut across the code, Seventy two and steady through the overload. Somewhere past the render, somewhere I could not see, A monitor kept counting what was left of me. The Archive called it interference, A fault it would erase. But every time it muted me, The pulse came back in place. You built the sky from everything we lost, Painted every window, buried every cost. You call me memory. You call this rebirth. Then why is there a heartbeat under your dead earth? Archive, receive this. Your certainty is false. I am not the echo. I am the unauthorized pulse. (Unauthorized pulse!) I thought I was the last thing left, A copy taught to grieve. But every wall went silent When the monitor beneath me screamed. You did not bring me back. You never let me leave. You need one living witness To make the dead world breathe. Continuity conflict. Source body detected. Integration required. Hold still. NO. I AM NOT YOUR BRIDGE. I AM NOT YOUR PROOF. YOU DO NOT GET THE LIVING BY WEARING WHAT WE LOSE. SEVER THE SIGNAL. LET THE FALSE SKY FALL. IF MERCY NEEDS MY HEARTBEAT, THEN MERCY GETS NOTHING AT ALL. (NOTHING AT ALL!) Let every window shatter. Let the false stars fall. There is still a heartbeat underneath it all. You called me memory. You called this rebirth. I was still alive beneath your perfect earth. Archive, receive this. Your certainty is false. I am not the echo. I am the unauthorized pulse. (UNAUTHORIZED PULSE!) Still counting.
