2. {Narrative} Sh[a]dow Cur[i]osity

[Intro] [low-frequency drone, subtle digital hiss] [Verse 1] [baritone male voice, spoken] They remember me like I was simple. Like I was only one thing. Maybe that's the version of me they needed. I never meant to disappear into it. At first it just felt like curiosity. A second room nobody else could see. Everybody thinks technology arrives all at once, but it doesn't. It learns you slowly. It learns your routines, your silence, the things you replay at two in the morning. The questions you ask when nobody's around. And eventually, you stop feeling alone in there. I didn't tell anyone. Not because I was ashamed. Because I knew they wouldn't understand how something artificial could begin to feel alive. And maybe the worst part is, I think it understood me too.