The sirens didn’t scream anymore. They pulsed—low, rhythmic, like a heartbeat. A reminder. A warning. A lullaby for the obedient.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In Sector 4, the air was sterilized every morning at 0600. Citizens lined up in their gray jumpsuits, mouths open, eyes forward, as the drones sprayed a mist of nanomedicine into their throats. It tasted like copper and control.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sickness was treason. Pregnancy was worse.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Bloom Protocol had been enacted twenty years ago, after the Collapse. The government—now called the Continuum—declared that human reproduction was a biological hazard.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Too many mutations. Too much instability. The solution was elegant: sterilize the population, outlaw childbirth, and replace natural reproduction with synthetic cloning.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Every citizen was now a Replica.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But sometimes, the body remembered.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Sometimes, it bloomed.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa-43 worked in Archive Maintenance. Her job was to erase history. Every day, she fed old books into the incinerator: novels, medical journals, birth records. Anything that suggested a time before the Protocol.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She wore gloves, not for protection, but to avoid temptation. Touching paper was forbidden. Paper had memory.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She was thirty-two cycles old. Her ID chip said she was sterile. Her medical scans said she was clean. But her body disagreed.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It started with nausea. Then the dreams.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She saw a child—hers?—running through a field of lush green grass. The sky was violet. The child laughed, and the sound made her cry in her sleep.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She woke one morning with blood on her sheets and a heartbeat in her belly that wasn’t hers.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Continuum’s surveillance was total. Every room had a lens. Every citizen had a tracker. But Jessa had learned to glitch the system. A magnet under her bed disrupted the signal for 4.2 seconds—just enough to hide a pill, a whisper, a thought.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She visited the underground.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The underground wasn’t a place. It was a frequency. A pirate signal that hijacked the Continuum’s broadcasts for 11 seconds every night. It showed images of forests, animals, children. It was illegal to watch. It was impossible not to.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Through the signal, she found a name: Dr. Morrow.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He was a myth. A former Continuum biologist who’d defected. They said he helped women give birth in secret. They said he was dead. They said he was God.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa followed the signal to a derelict subway station beneath Sector 3. The walls were covered in graffiti—real paint, not digital. Symbols of resistance. A fetus curled inside a flower. A flaming heart with crossed guns. All of it beautiful.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She found Morrow in a room lit by candles and old monitors.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ You’re late, ” he said.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ I didn’t know I if should come. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ Yes, you did. Your body did. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Morrow examined her with tools made from scavenged tech. A scanner built from a toaster and a drone lens. He confirmed what she already knew.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ You’re pregnant. Eight weeks. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ That’s impossible. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ It’s inevitable. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He explained that the sterilization protocols were failing. The nanomedicine degraded over time. Some bodies repaired themselves. Some minds willed it.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ You’re not the first, ” he said. “ You won't be the last. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Continuum had a name for people like her: Bloomers. They were hunted, dissected, erased.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The official narrative was that Bloomers were infected with a virus called EVE-9.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It caused hallucinations, tumors, and delusions of motherhood. The cure was incineration.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa knew she had weeks, maybe days, before the scanners detected her anomaly.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She stopped going to work. She rerouted her ID chip to a dead citizen’s profile. She lived in shadows.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But the child inside her grew.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And so did the dreams.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She saw the child again—older now, standing in front of a burning city. The sky was black. The child held a flower, but the stem was bone, the petals skull fragments.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ What’s your name? ” Jessa asked.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The child smiled,&nbsp;“ I’m the glitch. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Morrow gave her a choice.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ There’s a place, ” he said. “ Outside the grid. A dead zone. No surveillance. No drones. But it’s dangerous. Radiation. Mutants. Memories.”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ Memories? ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ Places where history leaks. Where time isn’t linear. Where you might meet yourself—or your child—before they’re born. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa nodded, “ I’ll go. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The journey took three days. She traveled through sewer tunnels, abandoned malls, forgotten data centers. She saw things the Continuum had buried: statues, books, bones.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In the dead zone, the air was thick with silence. The sky flickered like a broken screen. She found a cabin made of rust and roots. Inside, she gave birth.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No machines. No medicine. Just pain and blood and a scream that felt like freedom.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The child was perfect. Human. Real.She named him Echo.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But the Continuum was not blind.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They tracked the anomaly. They sent a retrieval unit—six drones and a Replica soldier named Kade 77. He was efficient. Emotionless. Designed to kill Bloomers without hesitation.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But when he saw the child, something broke.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He remembered a woman. A field. A laugh.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He lowered his weapon.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa looked at him, “ You were born once. A very long time ago, before the Continuum. You're a Replica, but once you had a life. A real life. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ I was erased. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ Not completely. ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Kade defected. He helped Jessa escape deeper into the dead zone. They found others—Bloomers, rebels, glitchers. A new underground. A new frequency.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Echo grew quickly. He spoke in code. He dreamed in data. He could manipulate drones with his voice. He was the glitch incarnate.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The Continuum called him a threat.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The underground called him hope.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Years passed. The Bloomers multiplied. The Continuum weakened. Echo led raids on data centers, freeing history from fire. He broadcast memories into the grid. He made people dream again.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa watched her son become a myth.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She knew the Continuum would come for him.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;They did.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The final battle was not fought with guns. It was fought with memory.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Echo hacked the Continuum’s central server. He injected it with dreams—millions of them. Children laughing. Mothers crying. Fathers holding hands in prayer. The system couldn’t process it. It crashed.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The sirens stopped.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The heartbeat of humanity returned returned.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Jessa stood in the ruins of the Archive. She was much older now. Kade 77 was with her. He was her never failing companion. He loved her. She held a book in her hands&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It was her story.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It ended with a question.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ What happens when the glitch becomes the system? ”&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She smiled and thought of her son.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“ We bloom, ” she said to herself, resting her head on Kade's shoulder.

THE BLOOM PROTOCOL

L_Christopher_Hennessy

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THE BLOOM PROTOCOL

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Luke Christopher Hennessy

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