The orb flickered, and a new screen lit up. It showed her phone’s screen recording—but not what she’d seen. A parallel layer. A ghost feed.

“If you refuse,” the orb said, “you will be returned home with no memory of this place. But your data will remain. The template of you will continue generating new styles without you. You will become a ghost in the machine either way.”

“We need you to edit one last thing.”

But here they were. Embedded in millions of edits. Watermarked not with her name, but with a tiny ghost icon she’d never seen before: two overlapping circles, like a figure-eight on its side. The infinity symbol of CapCut’s “Community Intelligence” feature.

The orb smiled—a synthesized curve of light.

She spun around. A projection formed in the center of the hallway: a floating orb with a soft pink glow. The CapCut logo pulsed inside it like a heartbeat.

“And if I agree?”