OFFLINE- Chapter 12
Audience Voting Begins
The synchronized knocking shook the apartment walls.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Dozens of people outside moved in perfect rhythm while the livestream poll continued updating across the cracked monitor.
KEEP ORIGINAL — 11%
REPLACE ORIGINAL — 89%
Kai Mercer stared at the numbers in disbelief.
“They’re actually voting?”
The duplicate tilted its head slightly.
“The audience chooses which version continues streaming.”
Kai’s chest tightened violently.
This wasn’t just entertainment.
It was a ritual.
The viewers outside weren’t random fans or trolls.
They were witnesses.
Watching another replacement happen live like every broadcast before it.
Then another message appeared from User-0.
User-0:
The poll decides who exists after 3:17.
Kai immediately typed back.
How do I stop this?
Several seconds passed.
Then User-0 replied:
No streamer has stopped a Final Broadcast once voting begins.
The hallway outside erupted with louder knocking.
Somebody slammed hard against the apartment door now.
Then another.
Excited voices leaked through the walls.
“WE CAN HEAR HIM INSIDE”
“SHOW US THE SWITCH”
“WHICH ONE IS REAL?”
The duplicate laughed softly beside the desk.
“They always ask that near the end.”
Kai grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter instinctively.
The duplicate didn’t even react.
It simply watched him calmly.
Then the poll updated again.
KEEP ORIGINAL — 8%
REPLACE ORIGINAL — 92%
Kai’s pulse hammered harder.
Why were people voting against him?
Then he realized something horrifying.
Maybe the viewers genuinely couldn’t tell which one was original anymore.
The duplicate looked perfect.
Maybe even calmer.
More confident.
Less terrified.
The livestream camera slowly turned toward the duplicate automatically.
Focusing on it.
Prioritizing it.
The viewers spammed messages instantly.
HE LOOKS MORE NATURAL NOW
ORIGINAL IS BREAKING DOWN
THE COPY IS STABILIZING
Kai backed away from the camera instinctively.
The stream quality around him glitched heavily whenever he moved.
But the duplicate remained perfectly clear on-screen.
Another memory slammed violently into Kai’s head suddenly.
Not his own memory.
A different streamer.
Young woman crying inside a bedroom while her duplicate smiled beside her.
Viewer polls.
Numbered accounts.
Knocking outside.
Same pattern.
Same ending.
Kai gasped sharply.
The duplicate noticed immediately.
“You’re syncing with the archive now.”
“Archive?”
The duplicate slowly pointed toward the viewer count.
214,000 LIVE.
“Every Final Broadcast stays online forever.”
Cold terror spread through Kai’s body.
The viewers weren’t just watching live streams.
They were watching accumulated replacements.
Hundreds of them.
Maybe thousands.
Stored somewhere inside whatever dark network this really was.
Then the apartment hallway suddenly fell silent again.
No knocking.
No whispers.
Nothing.
The duplicate looked toward the front door immediately.
And for the first time—
its smile disappeared completely.
“Oh.”
Kai frowned. “What?”
The duplicate looked almost nervous now.
“User-0 is here.”