On the table, there was a recording device that seemed long forgotten. Narey approached and examined it more closely. The device looked like an analog recorder—old, dusty, but sturdy. After a while, she managed to play the recording.
The first voice that emerged made her blood run cold. It was Laksana's voice, much younger, more enthusiastic—the voice of a scientist so confident in his ability to change the world.
"Today, I'm recording the start of an experiment that will change everything. The Cerebrum Shift project… is my answer to a world full of uncertainty. I will rewrite consciousness, manipulate human minds, and create a controlled future." Laksana's voice sounded so sure. But there was something suspicious in the tone—the subtle hint of despair that wasn't overtly spoken.
Laksana's voice continued, sounding more interrupted, as though there was interference or tension in the recording. "But I'm starting to feel something's wrong. Every experiment, though successful, leaves an indelible mark. Thoughts that should be controlled… end up becoming unpredictable. I can't ignore the feeling that I'm beginning to lose control of myself. I feel my own consciousness fragmenting."
There was a pause before the voice returned, now lower, deeper. "Is this the price I must pay? Can this experiment fix everything? Or… will I just become part of my own experiment?"
The recorder paused briefly. Narey rewound the recording, analyzing Laksana's words. His voice sounded increasingly chaotic, more fragmented, as if his own consciousness was splintering over time. The last voice heard was Laksana's sigh, accompanied by a soft sob.
"I... I'm no longer myself. I've become part of this project. And maybe, that's the end of it all."
Narey stared at the recorder with vacant eyes. Her emotions were mixed—pity for Laksana, but also anger because this mad experiment had ruined so many lives. She felt she had just uncovered the darkest part of the Cerebrum Shift project.
However, one more thing caught Narey's attention. In another corner of the room, there was a desk with a laptop that seemed still functional. Intrigued, she approached to investigate further. On the screen, there was an unlocked folder. The folder contained additional notes—continuation recordings, data analysis, and most shockingly: a hidden fragment of consciousness.
Narey stared at the screen with wide eyes. This was Laksana's final confession that she hadn't even heard yet—a confession that could change the entire direction of this investigation. Laksana may have stored part of his consciousness within this system.
And Narey knew, if she could access this hidden consciousness, she might be able to understand more deeply what was truly happening behind the Cerebrum Shift project.
But another threat was approaching: time. Time to uncover everything before it was too late.
Narey stared at the laptop screen, her gaze sharp, following every line of data scrolling before her. The folder she had found contained numerous recordings and notes that seemed deeply personal, more than just experimental reports. Within them were traces of confusion and doubt, as though written by someone trapped in an experiment of their own making.
However, one note stood out from the rest. It was titled "The Final Consciousness."
Carefully, Narey opened the file and read every word written. The text began with an increasingly dark confession from Laksana, recounting his long journey in developing the Cerebrum Shift project and the psychological toll it had taken on him.
"I've made a grave mistake. This project has surpassed the boundaries I once set. At first, I only wanted to influence thoughts, change the way people think to create a better society. But now, I feel like I've opened a door that should never have been opened. I feel like a part of me has become trapped in this experiment. Not just the brains of the subjects, but my own as well. I have become like them—swept up in the illusions and manipulations I've instilled. I've lost myself."
Laksana continued, and Narey could sense the tension in every word written. "I know this is no longer just about mind control. It's more than that. I have shattered human consciousness into small fragments, and now… a part of me is trapped in this system. I've tried to access it, to free it, but I only get further entangled."
Narey paused for a moment, trying to digest what she had just read. Laksana had not only created the project to control others; he was also trapped in his own creation. Every experiment he conducted, every thought he manipulated, was now turning back against him.
But as she continued reading, something even more terrifying was revealed.
"If you find this note, it means I have failed. I have tried to hide my fragmented consciousness within this system. But I know it won't last long. Someone will find it, and that person may see the pieces of me that are lost. Don't let this fall into the wrong hands, Narey."
Narey's name appeared suddenly in the note—written by Laksana, as though he had already known someone would search for the answers in this room. It was like a warning, or perhaps a plea.
"I have put the darkest part of myself into this data. If you wish to know, you must cross the boundaries of consciousness itself. Because I know, only those trapped within this network will understand what has really happened."
The words echoed in Narey's mind. Laksana had not only created this experiment to control others, but he had also tried to control his own consciousness—like trying to tame a larger universe, only to have it turned back on himself.
"Don't let me become this monster. Finish what I have started, but don't become like me. Don't let yourself get trapped."
A cold sweat crept down Narey's neck. She didn't know whether this was a warning or a threat, but it was clear that there was something far bigger behind this project than she had imagined.
In the corner of the screen, there was another unopened folder—one that was highly locked, titled "Core Data: Fragmented Consciousness." Without thinking twice, Narey attempted to access it, typing in the code from the previous recording. After what felt like an eternity, the screen finally opened.
Inside were data about previous experiments, but the most shocking were the recorded files directly connected to the processes of consciousness that had been recorded. Narey clicked on one of these files, and suddenly, a video appeared on the screen—a recording that shook her to the core.
It was a recording of Laksana, but this time, his face looked shattered, much older than before. He looked terrified, his eyes hollow.
"This is the price I have to pay," Laksana's voice trembled. "This experiment is not just about control, not just about changing thoughts. It's about manipulating reality itself. Every time I conduct this experiment, I separate fragments of my own consciousness. And I can't go back. There's no turning back."
The recording paused for a moment, and Laksana looked stunned. "What's happening inside my brain... is more than just an experiment. This is an inevitable sacrifice. But if you're hearing this, you must know one thing—I've left a clue. A way to stop it all. But only those who truly understand will be able to find it."
The recording ended with the sound of a rapidly increasing heartbeat, then went silent.
Narey stared at the screen, her feelings mixed. This was far more complex and dangerous than she had ever imagined. Laksana had not only created this project to change the world—he had created a disaster for himself. And even more terrifying, it seemed he knew that Narey would find his fragmented consciousness, and perhaps that was the true purpose of this experiment.
A deep feeling arose in Narey's chest. She knew, more than ever, that the way out of this labyrinth was not just about solving the mystery or stopping this experiment. It was about surviving in a world that had been changed by invisible hands—a world now beginning to fracture, like the consciousness Laksana had created.
But one thing was clear—Narey could not turn back now.
She had to find a way out, before it was too late.