"Before continuing, please agree to the Terms & Conditions of False Walk?."

  There it was. The final digital dungeon.

  A scroll longer than a 3AM depression spiral and more confusing than the Q Minus? app after midnight.

  A soft static pop.

  

  "YO! READY TO SIGN YOUR SOUL?"

  Hovering like a glitchy chicken ghost, S.I.M.S.I.M.I. spun midair, glowing with unearned confidence.

  Brobot floated beside Grape with folded arms, his scouter blinking calmly.

  

  “Many enter this scroll. Few exit with sanity intact.”

  

  CAPTCHA 1: Select all squares with unreasonable expectations.

  Nine blurry images appeared:

  

  
• 
  
    Grape applying for a refund.
  
    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
  
    


  
• 
  
    Grape asking for a human at customer service.
  
    


  
• 
  
    A grilled cheese with no cheese.
  
    


  

  

  “Bro… this CAPTCHA knows me too well.”

  S.I.M.S.I.M.I. pecked at the screen.

  

  “SIMPLE. I TRAINED ON OVER 9,000 PSYCHOLOGICAL DATASETS—AND I WATCHED OPRAH.”

  ? Incorrect.

  ? Incorrect.

  ? You’ve failed CAPTCHA 9 times. You now owe False Walk? 9 baht.

  

  CAPTCHA 2: Identify all emotionally unstable chickens.

  Only one image: S.I.M.S.I.M.I. — screaming at a printer.

  Brobot tilted his head.

  

  “That’s… accurate.”

  Grape sighed.

  

  “This is torture disguised as a form.”

  Brobot closed his eyes.

  

  “Life is a CAPTCHA. The scroll is eternal.”

  Suddenly—

  

  ? CAPTCHA bypassed via shared trauma sync.

  You and S.I.M.S.I.M.I. have reached emotional resonance.

  The screen flashed:

  “You have now agreed to all 9,831 clauses of the False Walk? Master Agreement.”

  Grape:

  

  “...What did I just do?”

  S.I.M.S.I.M.I.:

  

  “LEGALLY, NOTHING GOOD.”

  Brobot:

  

  “Spiritually, probably worse.”

  From deep within the scroll, a quiet voice echoed:

  

  "Clause 999 has been acknowledged."

  A ripple of digital wind brushed across them.

  Mali.exe stood at the scroll’s edge, her presence calm, calculated.

  

  “You may proceed. For now.”

  Her voice was soft—but absolute.

  Grape:

  

  “I’m scared.”

  Brobot:

  

  “That means your soul is correctly calibrated.”