VOID CLEARANCE

Somewhere in the dark, sound bloomed without source—system tone, clean and impossible, rolling through the void:

"Success."

"One hundred thousand years."

"Cleared."

"Reward implementing."

"Rewind."

The void carried the words. He did not.

His body hung limp in the drop—no scream, no orientation, no last thought.

Black.

Regression to January 2009 on the living timeline would happen off-panel between this blackout and a wake he had not earned yet—a deepest-desire reward firing without his knowledge. The prologue ended here. No apartment ceiling. No fan. No laptop date confirming the year.

Only fall without end, then nothing.