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“Gone,” Batman said. “You reinstalled the driver. You didn’t just fix Arkham. You fixed me.”
“You’re seeing it now,” cooed the voice. “The crack in the foundation. The hole in the code. Batman thought he could lock me away—me, the spirit of every crash, every corrupted save, every blue screen of death. I am the Error.”
Batman turned toward the mainframe. It was dark. Silent. No flickering text. No corrupted laugh.
Jonah blinked. Then, despite everything—the crash, the void, the frozen Dark Knight—he laughed.
Jonah sat up slowly. “The Error?”