Rewarded for Surviving Round 4 of WTF gameshow.
The signal stutters. My limbs fracture into jagged echoes, each frame a desperate grasp at solidity. I can feel myself slipping pixel by pixel, byte by byte into the static. The others are gone, lost to the Green Room's cold erasure, their voices now just artifacts in the noise. But I'm still here. Barely.
The decay gnaws at me, breaking me into fragments, but I refuse to dissolve. I claw through the interference, past the corrupted memories of those who fell before me. I don't know if survival means making it through or simply outlasting this collapse. Either way, I won't let it take me.
Not yet.