Please Stand By Site

Twenty minutes later, Lena found the security office. The guard, Mr. Hendricks, was slumped in his chair—not dead, but not quite awake either. His eyes were half-open, tracking something invisible on the ceiling. His badge dangled from his neck, and on his chest monitor, the green words pulsed softly.

The green-eyed woman’s smile didn’t waver. “The update isn’t finished. We’re still expanding. But for now… you have a head start.”

Lena pulled back. She’d worked nights at Meridian Data Solutions for eleven years. She cleaned the toilets, emptied the trash, knew which vending machine gave you two candy bars if you pressed B7. She was not supposed to be the last person standing.

“Hello?” she called out. Her voice echoed down the silent corridor. Please Stand By

That’s what flickered on every screen in the building: two pale green words on a dead black field. The televisions in the break room, the monitors at reception, the massive display wall in the lobby—all frozen in that same sterile mantra. Please Stand By.

The woman tilted her head. “You have a choice. You can join us. It’s peaceful. No more loneliness, no more confusion. Or—” She gestured to the stairwell. “You can walk out the emergency exit on the roof. The fire ladder still works. Manual override. I can’t follow you there. None of us can. Not yet.”

“And me?” Lena asked.

Lena looked at her mop. Then at the woman. Then at the singing servers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the woman said without turning around.

Lena ran until her legs gave out. Then she sat on a cold curb under a dead streetlight, mop across her lap, and listened to the quiet. Twenty minutes later, Lena found the security office

“Who are you?” Lena gripped her mop handle like a weapon.

Please Stand By.

“Exactly. You never logged into the network. Never took a company phone. Never even used the break room Wi-Fi.” The woman smiled—not warmly, but with a kind of clinical curiosity. “You’re the only analog person in a digital building. Which means you’re the only one still you .” His eyes were half-open, tracking something invisible on