Surviving The Ice Prince's Love Algorithm

Autumn's eyes snapped open.

Harsh morning sunlight sliced through the narrow gap in the blinds, stabbing directly into her pupils. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She lay flat on a narrow, unfamiliar twin bed, her fingers gripping the cheap cotton sheets.

Before she could even push herself up, a sharp spike of electricity drilled into her temples.

She let out a choked gasp, her hands flying to the sides of her head. The pain was blinding, a physical pressure threatening to crack her skull open.

"Welcome to the simulation," a voice echoed.

It didn't come from the room. The metallic, freezing tone vibrated directly inside her cranial cavity.

Autumn squeezed her eyes shut, convinced her brain was misfiring. "Who is that?" she rasped out loud, her throat dry and scratching. She frantically scanned the small dorm room for hidden cameras or speakers.

A string of glowing red text projected itself directly onto her retinas.

System ACE activated. Host bound. Current Identity: Elite Girlfriend (Provisional) to Harrison Jennings. Status: Cannon Fodder scheduled for deletion.

Autumn stared at the floating red letters. The words 'cannon fodder' and 'deletion' registered in her panicked mind, but strangely, a wave of heavy exhaustion washed over her. If she was just a temporary data point meant to be discarded, why fight it? She let her head drop back onto the thin pillow.

"Great," she muttered to the empty room. "Delete me. I'm going back to sleep."

The second the words left her mouth, a jolt of raw voltage ripped through her right arm.

Her bicep spasmed violently. Her elbow jerked, smacking hard against the wooden bedframe. Autumn cried out, rolling onto her side, clutching her twitching arm. The smell of ozone seemed to burn in her nostrils.

Negative intent detected, the mechanical voice droned in her head. Failure to perfectly execute the pre-set elite academic storyline will result in permanent consciousness formatting. You will cease to exist.

The sheer, brutal reality of the pain extinguished any desire to rebel. The threat wasn't a game. It was a loaded gun pressed to her temple.

Autumn ground her teeth together, tasting copper. "Fine," she forced out, her chest heaving. "What do I have to do?"

The red text on her retinas flickered and refreshed.

First interaction with target Harrison Jennings in 45 minutes. Location: Campus Library. Objective: Maintain elite parameters.

Panic, cold and sharp, replaced the pain. Forty-five minutes.

Autumn scrambled off the bed. Her bare feet hit the freezing linoleum floor. She stumbled toward the narrow closet in the corner and yanked the door open.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

The closet was a graveyard of monochrome. Stiff, tailored blazers in black, charcoal, and slate gray hung in perfect, suffocating lines. Crisp white button-down shirts, pressed so sharply the collars looked like weapons, filled the rest of the space. There wasn't a single oversized hoodie or pair of sweatpants in sight.

Her chest tightened. She grabbed the least restrictive-looking gray suit and practically tore off her sleepwear to put it on. The fabric was unforgiving, pulling tight across her shoulders and forcing her spine into a rigid line.

She stepped in front of the full-length mirror attached to the door.

She tried to curve her lips into a confident, aloof smile. The reflection staring back looked like a hostage trying to appease a captor.

Facial management: Failed, ACE's voice mocked in her head. Adjust immediately.

Autumn rubbed her cheeks roughly, leaving red marks on her pale skin. She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing the air deep into her lungs. She dropped the fake smile. She let her jaw set and hardened her gaze, staring blankly at her own reflection until her eyes looked dead and sharp.

Her phone buzzed on the cramped desk.

She snatched it up. The screen showed a single text message from a contact named Harrison Jennings.

Library. Study Room 4. 0900.

No greeting. No warmth. Just a string of data. Autumn stared at the screen, a chill crawling up her arms. It felt like receiving a command line from a machine.

She turned to the desk to grab a bag. Her eyes landed on the towering stacks of massive, hardcover textbooks. Advanced Jurisprudence. Macroeconomic Theory.

Pack core reference materials to maintain academic persona, ACE ordered.

Autumn grabbed the two thickest books she could reach and shoved them into a structured black leather tote bag. The sheer weight of the books nearly pulled her shoulder out of its socket when she hoisted the straps. She cursed under her breath, forcing her posture straight against the dragging weight.

The dorm room door clicked open.

A blonde girl walked in, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Autumn. Kira. The system fed the name and relationship dynamic directly into Autumn's brain.

Kira's gaze dragged up and down Autumn's gray suit, her lip curling into a sneer. "Off to throw yourself at the ice prince again?" Kira's voice dripped with venomous jealousy. "You know he doesn't actually have a pulse, right?"

Autumn's instinct was to agree, to drop the heavy bag and complain about the psychopath she was apparently dating.

A faint buzzing started in her temples. A warning from ACE.

Autumn tightened her grip on the tote bag straps. She leveled a cold, empty stare at Kira. She didn't say a word. She just lifted her chin, letting her silence convey absolute, untouchable arrogance.

She walked forward, her shoulder intentionally brushing hard against Kira's as she passed.

Kira stumbled back a step, her mouth snapping shut. The color drained from her face, leaving her pale and speechless.

Autumn didn't look back. She stepped out of the dorm building and into the biting chill of the early autumn wind.

The cold air slapped her face, tightening her skin. She pulled the thin blazer closer around her body. The campus was massive, a sprawling maze of gothic architecture and manicured lawns. The system projected a glowing blue line on the ground, guiding her steps.

She walked fast, the heavy books bruising her hip with every stride.

Five minutes remaining, the countdown flashed in her vision.

The massive, stone structure of the classical library loomed ahead. Autumn's breath came in short, white puffs. She climbed the wide stone steps, the countdown ticking down relentlessly in her head.

Three. Two. One.

Autumn pushed her weight against the heavy glass doors of the library, stepping into the silent, temperature-controlled air, walking straight toward her first executioner.