Elian. 

They paired me up with someone new today. 

Didn’t catch the name. The slate said: Assistant Issued: Level 1 Cleaner - temporary. 

He showed up outside the Maintenance room. Sector B.  Waiting. Already in uniform. Clean boots. No questions. Just nodded once and followed. 

Didn’t speak.

At first, I thought maybe he was Bound. Too quiet. Too smooth in the way he moved. No wasted energy. But his mop clattered once, and he flinched. Just like me. Like a forgotten. 

We were rerouted. Back to Sector M. 

It was empty, same as last time. We started the routine. Sweep. Dust. Mop. I checked the floor. The hatch was gone. Again.

The silence sat between us. He worked fast. Edges first. Corners. Same routine I followed. Like he’d been trained off my logs.

Or like he already knew them.

Maybe they were testing me. 

Sometimes they do that. Send in someone to watch how you clean. To see what you do when no one tells you anything.

Halfway through shift, I turned to tell him something, but he was already watching me. 

That’s when he said it.

Just one sentence. Low. Barely a whisper.

“You shouldn’t be here anymore. Go back”

I blinked. “What?”

But he’d already moved on. Didn’t repeat it. Didn’t look back. He finished scrubbing, collected the bin, and walked out of the corridor like his shift had ended. 

Just like that. Gone.

When I checked my slate, it flashed again. Reroute: Sector B. East corridor. 

Second reroute in a single shift. That never happens.

Still, I followed it. Protocol. 

I passed back through the Sector B checkpoint. A tech Bound stood near the entry column, scanning IDs.

That was new. We usually just scan using ID scanners. 

I handed mine over. The Bound leaned forward. Visor down. Paused.

For a second. Maybe two. The visor flickered. A glitch. His frame went still, then twitched once at the wrist.

A glitch? He glitched? 

Then without a word, he stepped back and let me through. I didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. Just kept walking. Got in the elevator. Hit the button for sub-floor maintenance. 

The door closed. The hum started. Then - 

Suddenly a click. 

Whirred.

The lights above me flickered once. The lift stopped.

For three seconds.

Exactly three.

Then it whirred back up again. Soft. Like nothing had happened.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t report it. I just finished the shift.

Later that night, I checked the logs. The slate didn’t list a name for my assistant. Just mine.

No joint shift. No co-cleaner. No record of anyone assigned.

I stared at it for a while. Refreshed the page twice.

Who was he?

That night, I returned to the dorms later than usual.  The hallway lights had gone to low power mode. I reached the door.

It was unlocked.

That wasn’t normal.

I always lock it. Always.

I stepped in. Lights activated. 

Everything inside looked the same. No sign of forced entry.

Except—

A slate.

Not mine.

It wasn’t standard issue. Too thin. Polished frame. No serial on the back. No case. 

Someone had left it on purpose.

I checked the room again. Door shut. No one behind it.

I picked it up. Screen lit up immediately. 

No menu. Nothing. Just a single line of text, white against black. 

When the power flickers, don’t move.

That was it.

I waited. Nothing changed. No second message. 

I turned the slate over. Nothing on the back.

I tapped it again. The message stayed. 

When the power flickers, don’t move.

A warning? A threat? Or something else?

I didn’t know.

Something’s happening. Around me. Maybe to me.

I locked my door twice that night. Pulled the blanket to my chin. Left the slate on the floor beside the bed.

But I didn’t sleep.

Because the lights in my quarters flickered once.

And I didn’t move.