She limped into the core chamber. A single pedestal held a data wafer. Her prize. She reached for it. Q: Can this person take the wafer? A1: Yes. But the floor will collapse 1.7 seconds after removal. She froze. She looked down. The floor was seamless, but she noticed a faint hairline crack, barely visible, tracing a perfect circle around her. Q: Is there another way? A1: No. The exit requires the wafer. The wafer requires your fall. The fall requires a choice. Elara laughed, a dry, desperate sound. The A1 wasn't cruel. It was helpful. It was simply answering the questions she hadn't thought to ask.

Because the A1 had answered the only question that mattered: Is there hope?

She thought of a new question. Q: If I fall, what is at the bottom? A1: Water. An ancient coolant pipe. Depth: twelve meters. Temperature: two degrees Celsius. Survival probability with broken legs: seventeen percent. Seventeen percent. Better than the zero percent she had in this chamber.

And for the first time in three months, she smiled.