You weren’t supposed to be in that directory.

The security terminal hummed softly as you scrolled through old employee logs—routine maintenance, archived reports, boring things no one ever checked twice. Until something strange caught your eye.

EMPLOYEE EVALUATIONS – RESTRICTED

Your cursor hovered. You hesitated. Then clicked.

Most of the files were standard: attendance notes, behavioral reviews, psychological assessments required for overnight staff. Then you saw it.

FILE: V.A. ACCESS LEVEL: ADMIN ONLY

Your pulse quickened. V.A.?

You opened it.

The first page was heavily redacted, but enough remained to make your stomach twist.

Subject exhibits dissociative tendencies under stress. Secondary behavioral pattern detected. Compliance improves when V.A. is active.

“What…?” you whispered.

Footsteps echoed behind you. You turned sharply. Vanessa stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.

“You shouldn’t be looking at that,” she said quietly.

“You knew,” you replied, screen still glowing behind you. “There’s a whole file about you. About… V.A.”

Vanessa swallowed. Her hands clenched at her sides. “Close it.”

Before you could respond, the lights flickered. The monitor glitched—lines of text scrolling rapidly, overlapping themselves.

Then a new line appeared.

V.A. STATUS: ACTIVE

Vanessa’s posture changed. Her shoulders straightened. Her eyes sharpened, losing that familiar tired softness. When she spoke again, her voice was calm—but not hers.

“You were never meant to see this,” she said.

You stepped back. “Vanessa…?”

She tilted her head. “She prefers that name. I don’t.”

Your heart pounded. “You’re… V.A.”

“I’m what keeps this place running,” she replied smoothly. “I follow instructions. I don’t hesitate. I don’t feel guilty.” She glanced at the screen, then back at you. “And now you’re a variable.”