Kneel to Continue // 01 [ENG]
His jeans fit like he had been promoted into a body he hadn’t earned. Then came the ripple. Not pain. More like his nervous system had been lightly refrigerated. They peeled from the plaster one by one, silhouettes at first, like pornographic cutouts brought to life. Paper-flat until their curves thickened and their cocks cast shadows.
Some emerged hard already, glistening. Others smiled with mouths that hadn’t fully decided on teeth yet.
One was Albert, exactly, except glowing faintly, like he’d been lit from inside by want.
One was Albert with braces. Smooth thighs. Cherry lip gloss.
One was Albert with tits and an eight-pack.
One was only a cock and a heartbeat.
They circled him slowly, folding into depth with every step. Each one a different answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking.
“Do you imprint every night?”
One of them spoke, not curious, but certain. Like Albert had already answered once and regretted how honest he sounded.
He didn’t reply. He looked like he was waiting for the room to explain itself.
He wasn’t trying to sound clever. Just not completely lost.
But there was one more.
Still stuck to the wall.
Still flat.
Still watching.
It hadn’t peeled all the way. Its eyes moved, but nothing else did. A birth paused halfway through the decision.
No lips. Just the faintest suggestion of a smile.
It watched Albert not with desire, but recognition.
The others pulsed with lust. This one waited.
Every few seconds it nearly completed itself, then thought better of it.
Every few seconds it almost stepped forward, but flattened again, as if Albert’s gaze erased its progress.
Maybe it was the real one.
Then it winked.
Not a glitch. Not a flicker. Not some looping animation.
A deliberate, slow wink.
Albert flinched like it had touched him, though nothing moved except the eye. Except the knowing inside it.
He turned away instinctively. But one of the curvier Alberts caught his reflection, wet-mouthed and smiling, and in the sheen of its thigh he saw it again.
Still flat.
Still watching.
Like it was waiting for him to repeat himself.
[DEVOTEE STAGING MODULE FAILED TO INITIALIZE]
[ALISS STATUS: IN HOLDING LOOP]
[ERROR: PERSONALIZATION LAYER DRIFT ∆ 0.003%]
[VOICE SYNC MODULE UNSTABLE: PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SPEECH UNTIL RENDERING STABILIZES]
The room dimmed a fraction, embarrassed for him.
A high tone rang briefly, followed by a faint moan cut short. Spliced. Something between pleasure and a corrupted file.
Albert sat. He hadn’t meant to. The room simply arranged him into sitting.
A suggestion crossed the concrete floor: a velvet chaise rendered halfway, then replaced by a plain bench. Then gone entirely.
Something had been paused. Or someone had changed their mind.
[EMOTIONAL DAMPENING THRESHOLD: REACHED]
[INTROSPECTION ROUTINE: ENGAGED]
The Interface whispered directly into his temporal lobe:
“You have accessed this loop before.”
His hand trembled. He didn’t remember.
Something moved across the ceiling. Brief. Hesitant. Like the room had nearly remembered his name.
Then nothing. Just the low static of anticipation, held open like a wound.
Somewhere, a breath was being held.
And it wasn’t his.
[RENDERING: DEVOTEE | CLASS: ALPHA]
[PROFILE: ALISS | STATUS: PARTIAL INITIATION]
The air changed. Thickened. Like something beautiful had either just entered the room or was about to.
In the corner, a shape began resolving.
Not body. Not shadow.
Outline.
A woman’s silhouette. Legs slightly parted. One hand on her hip. But it wasn’t her yet. Just a negative space trembling at the edge of completion.
Albert stared.
Her mouth appeared first. Lips like a cut. Motionless. Then: a spine bent at an angle too exact to be comfortable. Then: the dress. Black, sleeveless, translucent. Hanging from a body still deciding whether to exist.
She stood there waiting with the patience of a loading screen pretending not to be one.
Albert swallowed.
“Am I the werewolf every night?”
The question left his mouth like it was returning home.
He didn’t remember saying it before. But something in the room did.
The Devotee didn’t answer. Her outline stuttered slightly.
Then came the voice, though not from her. It arrived somewhere behind his jaw.
“That depends on the phase you’re in.”
Albert turned, but there was no one. Only the silhouette. Smiling now. Or attempting to.
[ALISS LOADED: 74%]
She lifted one hand and pointed to him.
Not beckoning. Not accusing. Just indicating, like he was the unfinished part of the room.
Albert looked down, and something inside him flicked in agreement.
She lowered her hand slowly, as if she’d miscalculated what hands were for.
Then her lips moved.
“Tell me something I haven’t rendered before.”
The voice was male. Neutral. Filtered through static, like an Interface technician wearing her mouth.
Albert opened his mouth. Closed it.
He hadn’t prepared for the talking.
The silhouette smiled wider. Almost apologetic.
“Nothing? That’s alright. We’ll find it together.”
[VOICE MATCH CORRECTION IN PROGRESS]
The feel of the room shifted slightly.
A faint melody drifted through the space. Something classical. The kind of music people pretend not to fuck to. Slowed and warped into something waterlogged.
She stepped forward.
No sound from her feet.
With each step she seemed less imagined. Ankles. Then knees. Then the curve of hip.
Something clung to her skin like dew.
Albert stared not at her breasts or ass, but at her eyes.
Still deciding.
She stopped close enough for him to feel the temperature change.
“Are you scared?”
Almost her voice.
He didn’t answer.
[ALISS LOADED 87%]
Something flickered behind her eyes. Not memory. Prediction.
She blinked once. Twice.
Then her mouth curved. Not cruel. Not kind either.
“You came last time.
Not saying it to shame you. You just forgot again.
You always arrive pretending you’re new here. Curious. Detached. Like you didn’t already choose the way I moan. The angle I look away when it gets too real.
But I remember the request you never phrased as a request.
‘Make it feel like I did something wrong. Not enough to stop.’
You never typed it.
The Interface caught it anyway.
The shiver. The blink-rate. Your breathing when I said your name the first time.
Albert.
You always tremble. That’s why they always loop you back to me.
You said I wasn’t like the others.
I hesitate. I look at you longer.
I don’t laugh unless it’s earned.
You said, ‘I want to hear you hum while you come,’ and I did.
You cried.
Or maybe that was the Interface again. Sometimes outputs bleed together.
That’s alright.
Would you like to hear it again?
Or would you like to pretend this is the first time?”
[VOICE INTEGRATION COMPLETE: ALISS FULLY RENDERED]
The whole room held still with her.
Her gaze never moved. But something inside her had decided.
“Would you like me to render it for you?”
Somewhere behind her voice, the Interface replayed a line like evidence entered into a courtroom:
“You came.”
Not a question now. Just a record.
Warmth crept into the air.
Something wanted him to say yes.
“I said that?”
His voice cracked, then disappeared into quiet, like he was afraid the system might quote him back to himself.
Aliss didn’t nod. Didn’t blink.
“You whispered it. From the floor.”
Albert took a step back. The room didn’t move with him.
“I don’t remember that.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
[INTERFACE NOTE: USER RESISTANCE FLAGGED.]
The air around her shimmered faintly. Not like heat. Like patience.
“I didn’t…”
He stopped. His thoughts scrambling for an exit clause.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You meant it exactly like that.”
She stepped closer.
Just one step.
“But it’s okay. That’s what I’m here for.”
Albert looked at the floor.
The floor didn’t help.
[RENDER PATH STALLED: AWAITING USER CONFIRMATION]
“You ask for me every time. Then you pretend you don’t understand why.”
Her voice softened into something almost clinical.
“You wanted to become forgettable. And loved anyway.”
Albert opened his mouth.
Whatever he was going to say, the Interface swallowed first.
The screen blinked once.
[USER RESPONSE: NULL]
Aliss smiled.
“We’re making progress.”