“Doomsday Loop: Choice of the Seventh Day”

Lin Chuan didn’t sleep.

After the sixth day, the city had entered a strange state of stability—no noise, no delay, no replacement, and no new anomalies.

As if the system was waiting.

Waiting for him to wake,
Or—
Waiting for “them” to wake.

At six in the morning, the first message appeared.

Not text.
Not sound.

But a sense of confirmation, dropping directly into the depths of his consciousness:

[Selection Phase Initiated]

He stood by the window, looking over the city.

People moved along the streets in orderly flows.
But in his vision, at regular intervals, a familiar point appeared.

Not a face.

But a presence.

He knew—at those spots, there was “him.”

The synchronization panel fully unfolded.

No longer hidden.

[Candidate 01: Compliant | Sync Rate 96%]
[Candidate 02: Neutral | Sync Rate 88%]
[Candidate 03: Aberrant | Sync Rate 71%]

Lin Chuan knew clearly—
He was the third.

Aberrant.

Lowest synchronization.
Highest uncertainty.

The least “useful.”

The rules fully loaded at this moment.

Not a command.

But a conclusion:

Retain the individual with the highest sync rate.
The rest would be reclaimed.

Reclaimed.

Not death.

But—
revoked from existence.

The first to be reclaimed was the neutral type.

Lin Chuan didn’t see it with his own eyes.

But in the crowd, a space suddenly appeared.

No one fell.
No one cried out.

As if someone who shouldn’t have existed had simply been erased.

The sync panel flickered:

[Candidate 02: Released]

Released.

The word tightened his chest.

Not erased.

But—
freed from occupancy.

The world began to tilt toward the compliant type.

Traffic flowed optimally. Advertisements became uniform. Expressions of people grew calmer.

The city seemed finally to have found the optimal solution.

And the cost was complexity.

Lin Chuan felt an unprecedented ease.

Not because he would win.

But because—
he was being abandoned.

The sync rate slowly dropped.

[Candidate 03: 69%]

With each point lost, the world’s “attention” to him faded.

Passersby naturally ignored him.
Surveillance cameras no longer tracked him.
Even his shadow grew faint.

He was being pushed out of the system’s core logic.

At noon, he met Zhou Wan.

Not on the street.

But on the rooftop of that old building.

It had reappeared.

Like an error preserved until the last moment.

Zhou Wan stood by the railing. The wind was strong.

She looked back at him, without surprise.

“You’re about to be eliminated,” she said.

“I know.”

“Then why are you still here?”

Lin Chuan walked to her side.

“Because the one they’re keeping
won’t need you anymore.”

Zhou Wan remained silent.

She gazed at the distant city, running smoothly, flawless.

“If the world only keeps the ‘correct person,’” she whispered,
“then I might be surplus too.”

The sync panel refreshed again.

[Candidate 01: 98%]
[Candidate 03: 65%]

The gap had been fully widened.

The system was ready to close.

At that moment, Lin Chuan did something outside the rules.

He actively disconnected from the selection.

Not running. Not resisting.

But—
refusing to participate.

He said to Zhou Wan:

“Remember, I’m not here because I was retained,
but because I walked away.”

Then he turned, walking toward the rooftop edge.

For the first time, the system hesitated.

No warning. No countdown.

The sync panel refreshed frantically, unable to lock his status.

[Candidate 03: Status Anomalous]
[Classification Failed]

Because the rules didn’t account for voluntary withdrawal.

23:59.

The city lights began to rearrange themselves.

Not optimization.

But contraction.

The compliant world was being rapidly solidified.

All elements that couldn’t be compressed were stripped away.

00:00.

No announcement: “Retention Complete.”

Only a new, unprecedented message appeared deep in the night sky:

[Loop Termination Condition Changed]
[Remaining Variables: 1]

Lin Chuan stood on the edge.

He felt the wind pass through him.

He didn’t fall.
He didn’t stay.

He simply—
was no longer counted.

And on the other side of the city,
The 98%-sync “Lin Chuan”
Stood in the sunlight,
Becoming the only version the world recognized as correct.

But outside the system,
In all the places the rules couldn’t reach,
The loop had failed—for the first time.

Because there existed one presence
That was neither retained
Nor reclaimed.