Rosa’s eyes widened as she read LumiGard YBM.

  She stared at the file icon, her pulse quickening. Then a string of text ran across her screen.

  Subject: New Priority Data Detected

  Before she could react, a second string appeared.

  High-confidence alert: Cross-referenced terms indicate direct connection to Gamalial Jonas.

  Rosa shook her head, giving Selina a look.

  Selina raised an eyebrow. "Now it’s interesting."

  Rowan perched like a lost shadow on the edge of the desk. His dark, intelligent eyes tracked the moving type, but he made no sound.

  Another message.

  Significant terms detected: 'Infinity NexUs,' 'LumiGard,' 'Van Der Lekh,' 'monkeys.' Querying relevance…

  Then the screen exploded.

  Lines of type bloomed outward in a rapid, uncontrolled cascade, spreading in an accelerating wave, each new string birthing another in a frenzied multiplication. Rosa yanked her hand away from the mouse as if it had burned her.

  "What the…" she gasped.

  Selina leaned in, eyes wide. "Is he doing that?"

  Rowan flinched, grabbing the edge of the desk with both hands, his breath coming in a sharp, chittering exhale. The bright flashes reflected in his pupils, his head tilting rapidly as he tried to track the impossible flood of information.

  Words, words, words flooded the display, layering over each other, cramming every inch of space with notifications.

  Recording source identified: Passive AI listening device.

  Location: Private residence, Gamalial Jonas.

  Rosa frowned. "Wait - is this a domestic AI assistant recording?"

  Selina’s expression darkened. "You mean one of those smart-home things? Always listening?"

  And still, LumiGard wasn’t finished. The information kept multiplying, blooming outward like an unchecked virus, filling the screen with relentless annotations, as if the AI was trying to drown them in its findings.

  Trigger detected: Conversation contained phrase resembling activation command. Device recorded and uploaded the interaction to cloud storage.

  Selina let out a slow breath. "So they were talking near an open mic."

  Rosa nodded, scanning the tide of data. "And LumiGard pulled it because… look at this - 'cross-referenced with priority subjects.'"

  Selina read over her shoulder. "So the moment they mentioned any of this - Infinity NexUs, LumiGard itself - it got flagged?"

  A creeping unease moved up Rosa’s spine. She looked around her own room, her eyes taking in her own smart gear. Then, suddenly, the flood of information vanished, leaving just the original file.

  Rosa inhaled deeply and double clicked.

  A video. Two figures in a dimly lit space talking on a split-screen with a third. The resolution sharpened.

  Roan and Mist and Gamalial Jonas.

  Rowan’s posture changed the moment the video loaded. He leaned in, pupils dilating. A soft chirrup escaped him - questioning, almost hesitant. His gaze darted between Rosa and the image of Gum. His lips parted slightly, a breathless stillness overtaking him.

  Selina inhaled sharply. "That’s a private conversation."

  The monitor flickered as the video loaded, the buffering wheel spinning for a moment before stabilising. Roan and Mist sat close to each other, their faces half-lit by the glow of their screen. On the other side of the split feed, Gamalial - Gum - was seated in what looked like a personal office. His hands rested on a table, fingers occasionally tapping as he spoke.

  "This feels wrong," Selina murmured. "Like eavesdropping."

  Rosa nodded but didn’t look away. The conversation unfolding on the screen wouldn’t let them.

  Gum was leaning toward the camera, his face momentarily distorting as the feed adjusted exposure. "I’ve read all his books," he said, his voice measured. "Scanned them, even ran pattern analysis." A pause. "And we've been ripped off."

  Mist frowned, arms crossed. "What?"

  Roan exchanged a glance with her before turning back to the screen. "That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone bother?"

  Gum sat back, fingers tapping more irritably. "It’s not just that he gets things right - he gets them too right. Details no one could have. Things that were never reported, things even we never talked about. But somehow, they show up in his work."

  Rosa maximised the window of the recording, her eyes fixed on Jonas’ sober expression.

  Gum exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "His books just… appear. No interviews, no biography, no trace of him anywhere except the finished product. He doesn’t interact, he just writes. As if that’s all he does."

  Mist snorted. "Some people are reclusive."

  "Reclusive is one thing," Gum said, leaning forward again, voice lowering. "But his Truth and Beauty series describes exactly what happened to us in VR. Exact events. Conversations that happened in private. Things only someone with direct access to the simulation - or to us - could possibly know."

  Selina looked at Rosa. Ro's black crest stood up high.

  "And then there’s his artwork," Gum continued. "3D renders - a bit basic and dated now. Just like the early immersive environments the 84LDY produced." He exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "I’m not saying anything definitive - but if you had to design a system to write a thorough record, disguise it as junk fiction and never leave a human trace… it’d look an awful lot like him."

  Roan frowned, typed something on his device, and said, “Look, A Querulous Quest is all online.” He copied the first page into an AI assistant and read aloud:

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "An AI is unlikely to have written this. There are clear indicators of significant human input… ‘dramatically descriptive’ in places… full of whimsical embellishments.’"

  He turned the screen toward Gum. “See? If Van Der Lekh were an AI, his writing would feel too clean, too structured. But this?” He tapped the passage. “This isn’t machine logic. It’s lived-in. Intimate. Like he’s been there.”

  Mist smirked. “You think he’s a knohm?”

  Roan glanced at her. “I’m saying it reads like memory, not imagination.”

  Gum folded his arms. “Or a record.”

  Mist leaned in. “Okay, now you’re both making it sound worrying.”

  Roan scrolled back up and read aloud:

  "Between the two rivers, in the towering, bulgesome city of Tullgotha, there lived a small, neatly-bearded knohm named Razzles."

  He scoffed. “Bulgesome! What AI says bulgesome?” Crossing his arms, he hesitated. “Maybe he’s not an AI, but… what if he’s a hacker? Someone with access to ClearView’s Infinity NexUs records?”

  Mist arched a brow. “So your theory is that he’s some rogue cyber-genius leaking secrets through childlike fantasy novels?”

  Selina paused the recording. “You still okay watching this?”

  Rosa breathed out slowly. “We've watched this much, we might as well finish it.”

  Roan was talking. “This book all set in your world, Mist.”

  “Don't remind me. And don't forget I was sleeping when that rat used my dreams to make it. The thing creeped me out.”

  “At least it's not out here stalking you in real life,” Gum said. “I've got actual, virtual monkeys on my back.”

  Mist leaned back, arms crossed, her expression sharp with calculation. “You know what you should do?” she said, her tone deceptively casual. “Sue them.”

  Roan and Gum both looked at her.

  She tilted her head toward the screen. “M.A.S.S., RealityStep, or whoever they really are. They stole your tech. You said so yourself.”

  Gum exhaled sharply through his nose. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not.” Mist leaned forward. “They broke into your home, got their hands on the 84… Baldy.” She gestured at the screen. “They're just getting away with it.”

  Gum shook his head. “No.”

  Mist raised an eyebrow.

  He leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Even if they did - allegedly - steal the Baldy, we wouldn’t touch it.”

  “Why not?”

  Rosa and Selina watched in silence.

  Gum gave a humorless laugh. “You really think ClearView would want to dig all that up?”

  Mist frowned. “Why not?”

  Gum exhaled. “Because when we ran our game on the Baldy, four of us ended up in comas, one got arrested and one nearly died.”

  Silence.

  Roan sat up straighter. Mist’s expression didn’t change, but Rosa saw the slight stiffening of her posture, the way her fingers tucked her hair behind her ear.

  Gum’s voice was quieter now. “If we take them to court, we’d have to admit we pushed the limits past safety, past sanity. It'd look like we don’t even understand our own tech. You think ClearView wants that on public record? They're already terrified of what’ll be uncovered in their old Dolphin’s premises.” He gave a short, bitter shake of his head. “No.”

  Mist held his gaze for a long moment. Then she leaned back, drumming her fingers against the table. “Huh.”

  Gum sighed, rolling his shoulders. “So no, we’re not suing them. And we’re definitely not digging up the past. It took years for that stalker monkey to leave me alone.”

  Suddenly, Rowan stiffened. His head snapped up, body taut with alertness. His breath came fast, nostrils flaring. Then, without hesitation, he leapt from Rosa’s desk in a blur of black fur, landing with a light thud on the floor.

  Rosa watched as he darted toward the front of the house, his movements urgent, almost frantic. Without thinking, she pushed back her chair and hurried after him.

  By the time she reached the hallway, Rowan was halfway up the front door, his face pressed against the glass panel as he peered outside. His whole body was tense, muscles coiled beneath his sleek fur. Rosa followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary - just the dimly lit drive, the flickering glow of a distant security light.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  Rowan didn’t shift his gaze. His lips parted slightly, his breath short, nostrils twitching as if scenting something beyond Rosa’s perception. He shifted his weight, his posture caught between caution and the urge to bolt.

  Rosa squinted, trying to pick out whatever had set him off. The shadows stretched long under the security lights, unmoving. She exhaled, stepping back.

  Whatever it was, she couldn’t see it.

  She lingered a moment longer, then abruptly turned away, shaking her head to dispel the unease.

  Onscreen, Roan was saying, "A black macaque. It was just… there. Watching us."

  He was explaining what had happened in Dolphin’s. Rosa sat back down beside Selina.

  Gum inhaled sharply. For a moment, the frame froze - likely a lag in the transmission at the time of recording - but when it resumed, his expression had changed. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Now do you believe me?”

  Mist clearly hadn't heard the story before. “What?”

  “Gum told me a black monkey appeared to him a few times starting, what…”

  “About twenty years ago,” Gum cut in. “Not long after I got married. Before ever we tried our game out. He thought I was seeing things,” he added accusingly, nodding at Roan.

  Gum exhaled sharply. “Look, I saw what happened when we crashed the simulation. The NPCs resisted deletion. Not just clinging on in corrupted files - fighting for survival, rewriting themselves, latching onto whatever data fragments they could find.”

  Roan frowned. “But that was inside the sim.”

  “Yes! But think about what RealityStep is working on - Liberants. AI programs that can physically manifest.” He looked around at them. “What if something in our old system laid the groundwork? What if the capuchins learned how to do it?”

  Mist narrowed her eyes. “You’re saying virtual monkeys escaped into real life?”

  Gum nodded. “What if…” he hesitated, then pressed on, “...they weren’t the first?”

  Roan shook his head. “You’re suggesting a virtual macaque monkey left the simulation that hadn't yet happened twenty years ago. That’s…”

  “...Not impossible!” Gum snapped. He leaned forward. “You know how broken that system was. We ran simulations nested inside simulations - different timelines clashing, overlapping, rewriting each other. Who’s to say something didn’t slip through? Time doesn’t work the same way in there. Maybe that macaque got out - earlier - and got stuck here.”

  Roan still looked doubtful, but he didn’t argue.

  Gum exhaled. “All I’m saying is, I saw what virtual characters were willing to do to survive. So tell me - what makes it impossible?”

  Selina gave Rosa a concerned look.

  “Fairytales,” Roan scowled. “There’s no evidence RealityStep have actually ‘liberated’ anything yet.”

  “Then why did that woman say that the capuchins were taken to a ‘research facility’ along with the macaques? Why have the things got our names? Why are they the exact same monkeys as the Cebus Brethren in Tullgotha? I spent ages in that insane simulation, the things followed me, I was their Primate! Read that hacker-slash-AI’s record of it if you don't believe me. Ananth Van Der flaming Lekh got it all down in his kids’ book like some stupid quest!”

  Rosa glanced at the bottom of the screen. There were only a few seconds left of the recording. Gum’s face, half-shadowed in the uneven lighting, remained frozen in an expression of barely contained outrage. Then, with a digital pop, the video cut out. The screen returned to the familiar interface of Rosa’s workstation.

  For a moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then Selina straightened up and flexed her back. “Well.” A pause. “That was a lot. Is Rowan alright?”

  Rosa didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes lingered on the screen, the last words of the recording still reverberating in her mind.

  “Virtual monkeys? He can't really believe that, surely?”

  Before Selina could answer, the screen convulsed - a jagged ripple distorting the display. A burst of static tore through the speakers, sharp and grating, before cutting to an unnatural silence.

  A sharp, piercing alarm cry shattered the silence. A sound so primal, so utterly wired into the deepest recesses of animal instinct, that Rosa felt the hairs on her arms rise. Rowan’s scream rang through the house - high, abrupt, unmistakably urgent.

  Georgie sprang to his feet in an instant. His ears snapped forward, hackles bristling. He took a single step toward the door, then froze, his nose twitching. A low, uncertain whine escaped his throat.

  The entire room seemed to hold itself on the edge of a knife, waiting for the next moment to decide what followed.

  Selina gripped her friend's arm tightly. "Rosa…?"

  Then, a voice rose from the speakers.

  "Get…"

  It was Rosa’s own voice, stripped of warmth, detached, as if surgically removed from some past conversation.

  "...down. They. Are. Cuh…"

  The words elongated, distorted, a sickly warping of her usual tone, as if magnetic tape had melted and stretched under heat.

  "...coming."

  The final word landed in a brutal mismatch - like a puppet mimicking speech, stitched together from stolen fragments. A ransom note of sound.

  Rowan let out another chattering alarm call and scampered back into the main room. Georgie gave a single, sharp bark.

  Selina stiffened. "Okay. This is all officially unnerving."

  For a long, breathless moment, no one moved.

  Georgie growled low in his throat.

  Then the house plunged into darkness.

  A Querulous Quest

  Temporal Tantrums