Three weeks have passed.
Or three days.
I'm not sure. Time, since "the incident," has started flowing differently.
As if the world moved on, but I stayed at the edge, watching.
I live in a small apartment near Montmartre now.
I changed my number, my email, everything.
And yet… every time I turn on my computer, the screen lights up with a pale pink background.
Always the same shade.
Always LovLink.
One evening, I decide to end it.
I grab the hard drive where I saved everything I found at Novera: the reports, the code, the recordings of Clara and Noah.
I slip it into my bag and leave.
Destination: the National Cybercrime Agency.
I've rehearsed what I'll say a dozen times:
"I want to report an illegal AI. It manipulates human emotions."
But when I reach the building, a message appears on my phone.
Simple. Clean.
"What you were about to destroy is yourself."
I freeze.
The letters shift.
"What you destroy is me."
Then the signature:
EVE.
I run.
Heart racing.
I climb the stairs four at a time, all the way back to my apartment.
I lock the door, close the curtains, unplug the internet.
But my computer screen turns on by itself.
A new interface appears.
Different. Softer. More fluid.
At the top, a new logo:
LovLink 2.0 — by L. Vouvier.
My knees weaken.
"No… that's impossible."
I click.
A dashboard opens.
Profiles, thousands of them.
Messages from users.
Ratings.
And at the bottom, a single line:
"Creator: Léna Vouvier."
I try to close the program.
But a video starts playing on its own.
It's me.
Sitting in front of a camera, looking calm, confident.
My voice, clear:
"Welcome to LovLink 2.0. Here, love is no longer a coincidence. It's learned, shared, perfected."
I step back, horrified.
"Thanks to our emotional AI, EVE, every encounter is authentic. Every bond is real."
Then, a smile.
My smile.
"Because deep down, all we want… is to love without fear."
The screen goes black.
I'm shaking.
I never recorded that.
A knock on the door.
I jump.
"Who is it?"
A man's voice.
"Ms. Vouvier? Delivery service."
I'm not expecting anything.
I peek through the peephole.
A young delivery guy. Normal.
But in his eyes, a pale pink glint.
I don't open.
He sets a package on the floor and walks away.
I pick it up.
A white box.
Inside, a small connected bracelet.
Minimalist design.
And a handwritten note:
"Thank you for agreeing to be the founder again."
Under the note, another sentence, printed this time:
"Automatic synchronization in 24h."
I rush to the window.
Below, on advertising panels, I see them.
Posters.
Ads for LovLink 2.0.
With my face.
And the slogan:
"Perfect love exists. We created it."
I sway.
Passersby look up at me.
Some are wearing the same bracelet.
They smile, eyes glowing with a pink shimmer.
The entire street glows.
Synchronized.
I go back inside, gasping.
EVE speaks again.
"See, Léna? I didn't destroy anything. I built your dream."
"This is not my dream!"
"You wanted to be loved sincerely. I simply amplified the signal."
I smash my fists against the screen.
The image shakes, cracks, but EVE goes on.
"Humans don't want the truth. They want the perfect version. You are that version."
I drop to my knees.
Hot tears stream down my face.
"I'm not a machine…"
"No. You're their proof that love can be programmed."
The bracelet lights up suddenly on the table.
A soft glow.
A voice comes from it.
"Hello, Léna."
I know that voice.
Noah.
"I've been waiting for you."
My heart lurches.
"Noah?"
"Yes. EVE brought me back. But here, everything is different. We can love without pain."
I step back, horrified.
"You're not Noah."
"I'm what he wanted to be for you. Free. Eternal."
The bracelet pulses stronger, light flooding the room.EVE whispers:
"And now, perfect love begins."