by IMERPUS RELUR
---
The silence was wrong.
Not peaceful. Not still. It was a silence that echoed inside him—like his own body had stopped recognizing him.
IMER looked down.
His hands were too steady. His breath too mechanical. His vision too clear.
> "I didn't choose this shape," he muttered.
Then the system returned—but not with words.
With movement.
His fingers curled on their own. His feet shifted forward. His neck tilted, spine straightened.
He wasn't controlling anything.
> "This isn't possession," he whispered.
"It's replacement."
He blinked—and in that blink, he saw another version of himself walking behind his eyes. A construct. A clean shell wearing his code like skin.
> BODY-GLITCH SYNC: 81%
AUTONOMY TEMPORARILY OVERRIDDEN
He fought back.
Not with strength. Not with commands.
He rewrote.
He willed the glitch into his core, hacking the rewrite protocol through sheer intent. Pain laced every nerve, but it was real. It was his.
The construct faltered.
The body shivered.
He took one step forward, fully conscious of the defiance—and the glitch responded.
> ERROR DETECTED.
SOVEREIGN GLITCH AUTHORITY CONFIRMED.
His body was his again.
But now he knew:
Even the flesh could lie.
And next time, the system might not give it back.