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 MOVIE SCRIPT – PART 5 of N
 (continue seamlessly from previous part)
 ---
 **Previously in the story…**
 The Syndicate schedules “Cleansing Cycle E-01” – an engineered crisis meant to reset debt, erase liabilities, and crush anomalies in the Red Tier. An insider analyst, Kai, secretly leaks proof of the plan via forgotten infrastructure like laundry machines and waste processors. In the underground “Laundry,” Lia and her circle prepare: caches of food and meds, “slow mistakes” in warehouse and clinic, and safe stairwells. As countdown to E-01 begins, candles and chalk marks quietly spread across Tower 19 – the village bracing for a storm others call “routine.”
 ---
 ### FADE IN:
 #### INT. LIA’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
 Darkness, except for the soft glow of the countdown on Lia’s wrist device.
 > “CLEANSING CYCLE E-01 ACTIVATION IN: 00:02:13… 00:02:12…”
 Lia, Mara, and Tomi sit together on the floor now, go-bag ready. Candles unlit, waiting.
 Outside, faint sirens and the distant thrum of drones.
 Tomi’s eyes are wide.
 > TOMI
 > Will it hurt?
 Mara pulls him close.
 > MARA
 > Storms always rattle the house. That doesn’t mean the house falls.
 Lia watches the countdown. Sweat on her brow.
 > LIA
 > When it hits, we move to Stairwell B. No lifts. If the doors lock—
 > MARA
 > I’ve lived through worse doors.
 Mara gives a small, defiant smile.
 The clock:
 > “00:00:10… 9… 8…”
 Lia reaches for the candles.
 > LIA
 > Ready?
 They all clasp hands.
 > “3… 2… 1…”
 The countdown hits zero.
 Silence for a beat.
 Then—
 A LOW-FREQUENCY HUM rolls through the building. Lights FLICKER.
 The wall-screen snaps on by itself, overriding manual settings.
 A bland SYSTEM LOGO appears.
 > SYSTEM VOICE (O.S.)
 > CLEANSING CYCLE E-01 ACTIVATED.
 > EXPECT MINOR DISRUPTIONS. DO NOT PANIC.
 The lights CUT.
 Total darkness.
 Tomi gasps.
 Lia strikes a match, lights the first candle. Warm light blooms, tiny but stubborn.
 > LIA
 > Stairwell. Now.
 ---
 #### INT. TOWER 19 – STAIRWELL B – CONTINUOUS
 Concrete steps, echoing voices, sporadic light from candles and small flashlights.
 The stairwell is already filling with residents— some frightened, some calm, some carrying bags and blankets.
 On the landing, Lena and Marco coordinate.
 Plastic water containers, blankets, a small crate marked with a red cross.
 Nia kneels beside an elderly man, checking his pulse.
 Jay limps in, slightly out of breath, guiding a neighbor.
 > JAY
 > Stairwell welcome committee, reporting for duty.
 Lia, Mara, and Tomi enter. People automatically shift to make space.
 Marco spots Lia.
 > MARCO
 > Good. You’re here. Block 4’s elevator seized. They’re coming up the emergency stairs now.
 Mara takes a seat on a step, leaning against the wall.
 > MARCO (cont’d, to everyone)
 > Remember: if the scanners come, we’re here for “safety during outage.” That’s all. Keep your devices visible but face-down. We’re just… neighbors sharing light.
 The stairwell hums with quiet conversation, whispered reassurance.
 The air feels tense but… organized.
 ---
 #### EXT. NEO-HAVEN – RED TIER STREETS – SAME TIME
 The city below the towers.
 Streetlights go dark, replaced by occasional emergency beacons.
 SKY-SCREENS flash:
 > “TEMPORARY OUTAGE. TRUST THE STACK.”
 Drones sweep low, scanning.
 Armored ENFORCEMENT UNITS roll through streets.
 We see:
 — A food market gate “malfunctioning,” trapping people outside.
 — A bus full of workers diverted to a “reallocation center.”
 — A clinic door locked just as a coughing crowd reaches it.
 Cleansing is not explosions— it’s a thousand small denials.
 ---
 #### INT. WAREHOUSE – MAIN FLOOR – SAME TIME
 Emergency lights bathe the warehouse in red.
 Conveyors have stopped in the blackout, but handheld scanners blink with backup power.
 Overhead, a giant banner:
 > “E-01 STABILITY MODE: FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS.”
 SUPERVISORS move along the lines with tablets.
 Lia isn’t here— she’s in the stairwell— but Ana and others we recognize are.
 On their devices, prompts:
 > “VOLUNTEER FOR TEMPORARY REALLOCATION: BONUS CREDITS.”
 > “REPORT NON-COMPLIANT BEHAVIOR FOR STABILITY POINTS.”
 Some workers look tempted. Others look terrified.
 Ana’s wrist pings:
 > “MANDATORY SURVEY: WOULD YOU RELOCATE FOR THE GOOD OF THE SYSTEM?
 > – YES
 > – YES, IF REQUIRED”
 No “no” option.
 She slowly lowers her wrist, looks around at her co-workers.
 Their eyes meet. A silent agreement passes.
 They *don’t* tap anything.
 The survey times out.
 Small non-compliance.
 A Supervisor notices the lag, scowls.
 > SUPERVISOR
 > Alright, heroes. If you don’t want to volunteer, the Stack will volunteer for you.
 He taps his tablet. A list populates, “randomly.”
 Ana’s name appears.
 > ANA
 > Of course.
 Before he can confirm, the overhead system glitches.
 The selection list scrambles, then resets.
 New text:
 > “REALLOCATION QUEUE ERROR.
 > PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.”
 Ana glances up. Sami’s tiny signature appears, hidden in a corner of the display:
 > “//laundry: not today.”
 She smiles despite herself.
 ---
 #### INT. CLINIC – HALLWAYS – SAME TIME
 Chaos— but a channeled one.
 Emergency lights. Patients crowding.
 Nia moves quickly, directing volunteers from the Laundry.
 She quietly ignores the official protocol that prioritizes Blue/Gray tiers.
 > NIA
 > Red Tier chest pains first. I don’t care what the system says.
 Her tablet buzzes with warnings:
 > “NON-COMPLIANCE”
 > “RISK TO CAREER”
 She taps “ACKNOWLEDGE” without reading.
 A YOUNG GUARD approaches, visibly nervous, hand on his stun baton.
 > GUARD
 > Ma’am, the directive says Blue Tier—
 > NIA
 > The directive doesn’t have a pulse. He does.
 She nods to a man wheezing on a gurney.
 The guard hesitates.
 > GUARD
 > I’ll… log it as triage congestion. For the system.
 Nia meets his eyes— an unspoken thanks.
 Small “mistakes” ripple.
 ---
 #### INT. TOWER 19 – STAIRWELL B – LATER
 The stairwell is more crowded now. Some kids sleep, heads on laps. Adults murmur.
 Lia helps distribute water.
 Tomi sits near Mara, counting quietly under his breath.
 From above, raised voices. Heavy footsteps.
 A RELOCATION TEAM appears on the landing above— helmets, visors, scanners.
 Conversations die.
 The lead OFFICER scans the stairwell with a wrist device. A grid overlay appears, mapping faces.
 > OFFICER
 > This stairwell is over capacity. Red Tier safety protocols require dispersal.
 Marco steps forward, calm.
 > MARCO
 > Elevators are down. Some of these people can’t do fifteen flights in the dark.
 > OFFICER
 > They can wait in their units. This is a non-approved assembly. You are impeding the Cleansing Cycle.
 Word choice lands like a slap.
 > LENA
 > We’re just sitting on stairs.
 The officer raises his voice, more for his bodycam than the people.
 > OFFICER
 > Last warning. Return to your units. Failure to comply may result in relocation for behavioral remediation.
 A murmur of fear.
 Lia’s eyes flick between people’s faces— panic rising.
 Mara stands, leaning on the rail.
 > MARA
 > Is it a crime now to sit near one another in the dark?
 The officer moves toward her.
 > OFFICER
 > Ma’am, sit down.
 > MARA
 > I was sitting. You asked us to move.
 > (gestures to everyone)
 > They have children. Weak hearts. You shut the lights and then demand we wander alone. That is not safety. That is… cruelty.
 The word lingers.
 The officer’s device buzzes— a prompt:
 > “DEESCALATE?
 > – READ STANDARD SCRIPT
 > – INITIATE TARGETED RELOCATION”
 He hesitates, glancing at the camera on his shoulder.
 The GUIDANCE VOICE pipes softly into his earpiece, unheard by others.
 > GUIDANCE VOICE (V.O.)
 > Remember: you are not harming individuals. You are stabilizing the system. Responsibility rests with the Stack.
 His jaw clenches.
 > OFFICER
 > Ma’am, you’re inciting non-compliance. For your safety and the safety of others, you’ll come with us.
 Gasps.
 Lia steps forward.
 > LIA
 > She’s just talking.
 Two officers grab Mara’s arms gently but firmly.
 Mara doesn’t struggle. She looks back at Lia and Tomi.
 > MARA
 > Stay with the voices, not the sirens.
 Tomi lunges.
 > TOMI
 > Buni!
 Lia holds him back, tears brimming.
 > LIA
 > Don’t. They’ll mark you too.
 The officer nods to his team.
 > OFFICER
 > The rest of you— stay put. For now. Stairwell is under observation.
 They lead Mara away up the stairwell.
 Her candle is left behind on the step, still burning.
 We HOLD on Lia’s face, shaking with restrained rage.
 ---
 #### EXT. TOWER 19 – COURTYARD – MOMENTS LATER
 Rain begins— thin, dirty drizzle.
 Mara is loaded into a PATROL VEHICLE among other detainees.
 Inside the van, she sees faces: a TEACHER who organized free tutoring, a COOK who shared extra food, a JANITOR who refused to report squatters.
 She smiles at them, small but brave.
 > MARA
 > At least they collected good company.
 Doors slam. The van pulls away.
 ---
 #### INT. RED TIER STREET – LATER
 Jay, on a night gig, pushes a cart stacked with boxes “misdelivered” to the Laundry network.
 Drones buzz overhead, scanning.
 He turns into a narrow alley— and clashes with a RELOCATION SQUAD sweeping through, herding a group of residents.
 > OFFICER #2
 > You. Delivery. What’s your route?
 Jay freezes.
 His tablets show fake addresses.
 > JAY
 > Just doing what the app says.
 The officer grabs one tablet, scanning.
 The system flags several “customers” as non-existent.
 > OFFICER #2
 > These profiles are fake.
 > JAY
 > Glitch, maybe. App’s been weird since the outage—
 The officer lifts his baton.
 > OFFICER #2
 > Step away from the cart.
 Behind Jay, a CHILD in the relocation group starts coughing hard.
 The officer ignores it, still focused on the cart.
 Jay looks between the child, the boxes, the baton.
 He makes a choice.
 > JAY
 > If you’re going to “cleanse” anyone, start with the ones who scheduled this.
 The officer swings—
 Jay moves, shielding the cart and the residents.
 The baton hits his side. He grunts, drops to one knee.
 Another officer shoves him aside. He hits the ground hard, head bouncing off wet pavement.
 We don’t linger on impact— just the aftermath.
 His ears ring. Vision blurs.
 Shouts echo strangely.
 > VOICE (distant)
 > Leave him, he’s Red Tier.
 The squad confiscates some boxes, but in the confusion, a few are snatched by onlookers and rushed into doorways— food saved.
 Jay tries to stand, collapses again.
 Last thing he sees: a pair of familiar hands— Lia’s— grabbing his arm.
 ---
 #### INT. TOWER 19 – STAIRWELL B – LATER
 Jay lies on a blanket, clutching his ribs, face pale and sweaty.
 Nia examines him by candlelight.
 > NIA
 > Broken ribs for sure. Possible concussion. You’re lucky.
 > JAY
 > I don’t feel lucky.
 > LIA
 > You’re alive. That’s the win condition today.
 Jay smiles weakly.
 > JAY
 > Did the boxes make it?
 > LENA (O.S.)
 > Enough of them.
 Lena appears, holding up a loaf of bread and a box of meds.
 > LENA (cont’d)
 > You did your job. Now stay still or I’ll tape you to that step.
 The stairwell is a living organism now— some sleep, some talk quietly, some tend to wounds.
 But an undercurrent of dread runs through: Mara is gone.
 Lia sits against the wall, watching Tomi sleep on someone’s lap.
 She looks upward, where Mara disappeared.
 Her wrist device buzzes with a new alert.
 She hesitates, then checks.
 > “RELOCATION LOG UPDATE:
 > MIREA, MARA – STATUS: TRANSFERRED.”
 No destination given.
 > LIA
 > Transferred where?
 No answer.
 Her hands tremble.
 ---
 #### INT. DETENTION PROCESSING CENTER – UNDISCLOSED – INTERCUT (IMPLIED)
 We don’t see Mara’s suffering directly.
 Instead, we see glimpses through SYSTEM UI:
 > “SUBJECT: MIREA, MARA – CHARGE: NON-COMPLIANCE INCITEMENT.”
 > “HEALTH STATUS: PRECARIOUS (AGE, EXISTING CONDITIONS).”
 > “RECOMMENDED ACTION: MINIMAL RESOURCE ALLOCATION.”
 Graphs, checkboxes, signatures. Cold logic.
 A line:
 > “OUTCOME: DECEASED DURING CLEANSING CYCLE (NON-CRITICAL).”
 The word “DECEASED” flashes once… then gets compressed into a summary stat.
 ---
 #### INT. UNDERGROUND “LAUNDRY” – SOME HOURS LATER
 The storm still rages outside, but the basement room is quieter.
 A smaller group now— core members.
 The projector shows fresh logs from Nia’s clinic and other sources.
 Marco reads from a new system bulletin, voice tight.
 > MARCO
 > “As part of Cleansing Cycle E-01, several non-compliant individuals were relocated to corrective facilities. Some expired due to pre-existing fragility. The System regrets any inconvenience.”
 He looks up.
 Lia is rigid, fists clenched.
 > LIA
 > Say her name.
 > MARCO
 > Lia—
 > LIA
 > Say. Her. Name.
 Marco swallows.
 > MARCO
 > “Subject: Mirea, Mara.”
 Silence.
 Lia closes her eyes. The world narrows to the sound of Mara’s name in this concrete room.
 We hear faint echoes— Mara’s granary story, her stairwell words.
 > MARA (V.O.)
 > God was never the granary. God was in their hands.
 Lia’s own hands shake.
 > LIA
 > They turned my grandmother into a line in a report.
 Her voice cracks.
 > LIA (cont’d)
 > She kept people alive with nothing but her hands and some boiling water.
 > (beat)
 > And they marked her as “non-critical.”
 Nia steps forward, gentle but direct.
 > NIA
 > That line will not be the last word about her.
 Lia looks up, eyes burning.
 > LIA
 > Then what will?
 Marco clicks to another screen.
 On the wall: the ledger UI from Kai’s leaks. Names, debts, health yields. Rows and rows.
 > MARCO
 > This. This is how they see us. If we want her to be more than a statistic… we have to burn this image into everyone’s mind. So they can never pretend they didn’t know.
 Sami nods.
 > SAMI
 > The feeds can be hijacked. We know that from the glitches Lia’s been seeing. There’s a seam between their public messages and their internal dashboards.
 Lia moves closer to the wall, staring at the ledger.
 > LIA
 > I’ve seen it bleed through. Like someone forgot to close a curtain.
 > SAMI
 > If we can find that curtain… we can open it on purpose.
 Jay, still injured, leans against the wall.
 > JAY
 > Broadcast their god’s face… to everyone.
 > LENA
 > You understand what that will bring down on us?
 > JAY
 > They’re already bringing it.
 Mara’s absence is a physical hole in the room.
 Lia reaches out and physically touches the projected ledger, her hand passing through the light.
 > LIA
 > They worship this thing in their towers.
 > (beat)
 > Then let everyone see what their god eats.
 The idea hangs, dangerous and electric.
 Marco turns to Sami and Nia.
 > MARCO
 > Can we do it?
 Sami thinks fast.
 > SAMI
 > The public screens and the internal dashboards share a routing node. Deep, but not unreachable. We’d need uplink from multiple points: clinic, warehouse, maybe even tower maintenance.
 > NIA
 > Clinic’s plugged into a data backbone they’re too busy to watch right now. They’re focused on triage metrics.
 > LIA
 > Warehouse has a training room nobody uses during crisis. It’s wired straight into the Syndicate’s “motivation” feed.
 > JAY
 > And tower maintenance— the roof relays. I know a guy who hates the Stack more than he loves his job.
 Marco nods slowly.
 > MARCO
 > Three points. Three hands on the curtain.
 Nia looks to Lia.
 > NIA
 > You sure about this? Once we show everyone the ledger, there’s no putting it back in a box.
 Lia’s face is streaked with tears, but her voice is steady.
 > LIA
 > They killed her in the dark and called it a “correction.”
 > (beat)
 > I’m done letting them write the story.
 She wipes her face, turns to the group.
 > LIA (cont’d)
 > We do this for everyone they turned into a statistic. For every “non-critical” body. For every “acceptable loss.”
 > (beat)
 > We show them the ledger. With our faces on it.
 The Laundry breathes as one.
 In the background, a candle flickers higher for a moment, as if caught in a draft— or something more.
 ---
 #### INT. SYNDICATE TOWER – ARIA’S OFFICE – SAME TIME
 Aria reviews Cleansing Cycle E-01 status.
 On her wall: graphs trending exactly as planned— anxiety up, population down in Red Tiers, obedience returning.
 But a small notice blinks:
 > “MINOR UI BLEED REPORTED: PUBLIC FEEDS / INTERNAL LEDGER.
 > STATUS: PATCH PENDING.”
 She stares at the word “bleed.”
 > ARIA (V.O.)
 > Curtains don’t patch themselves forever.
 She opens a private log.
 It shows: incomplete patches, ignored minor bugs, suppressed anomaly reports.
 Among them:
 > “TOWER 19 – BEHAVIORAL NOISE.”
 > “LAUNDRY RECEIPT TEXT VARIANCE.”
 > “CLINIC WASTE TERMINAL PACKET ANOMALY.”
 She closes her eyes briefly.
 > ARIA (quiet)
 > If I were them… I’d go for the seams.
 She doesn’t fix them.
 She doesn’t warn the Council.
 She simply… leaves the window open.
 A tiny act of sabotage, disguised as negligence.
 SATAN’s numeric hum thrums under the scene.
 ---
 #### EXT. TOWER 19 ROOFTOP – NIGHT (LATER)
 Rain has stopped. The city glistens.
 Lia stands on the rooftop, hood up. Sami and a wiry TOWER TECH (40s) named RADO are with her, working on a relay panel.
 Rado grunts, prying open a sealed casing.
 > RADO
 > You kids keep finding new ways to make my job… interesting.
 > LIA
 > You said you hated the Stack.
 > RADO
 > I do. Doesn’t mean I want to get recycled for “tampering with stability infrastructure.”
 Sami connects a cable to the relay.
 > SAMI
 > You’ll be “fixing a glitch” if they ask. Their logs already show minor bleed. We just… widen it.
 Rado snorts.
 > RADO
 > “Just.”
 > (beat)
 > You know, when I was your age, we thought the worst thing about the future would be ads in our dreams.
 Lia tightens a bolt.
 > LIA
 > Ads would be better than this.
 She looks out over Neo-Haven.
 SKY-SCREENS still show sanitized messages:
 > “CLEANSING COMPLETE SOON. THANK YOU FOR YOUR SACRIFICE.”
 Her jaw clenches.
 > LIA (V.O.)
 > They talk about sacrifice like they’re the ones bleeding.
 Sami’s laptop shows three nodes: CLINIC, WAREHOUSE, ROOFTOP RELAY.
 Two are already green. The third— the one they’re wiring now— flickers yellow.
 > SAMI
 > Once this goes green, we’ll have a path. Not for long. They’ll notice— but long enough to hijack a cycle.
 > LIA
 > And show them the ledger?
 > SAMI
 > And show them the ledger.
 Rado flips a final switch.
 The rooftop relay lights up. Sami’s screen: three green nodes.
 > SAMI (cont’d)
 > Curtain’s ready.
 Lia looks up at the biggest SKY-SCREEN, reflecting in her eyes.
 We PUSH IN on her face as the wind picks up, hair whipping.
 The storm of E-01 still rages in pockets… but something new is moving underneath.
 The broadcast is coming.
 **FADE OUT.**
 **END OF PART 5.**
 ---
 ## VIRAL CLIP IDEAS from this part
 1. **Clip 1 – “Lights Out, Hands Together” (8–12s)**
   * **Hook line:** System Voice: “CLEANSING CYCLE E-01 ACTIVATED. DO NOT PANIC.”
   * **Visual frame:** Lights shutting off, then match flare and candlelight revealing neighbors crammed in a stairwell, holding hands.
   * **On-screen text:** “THEY TURNED OFF THE LIGHTS. WE TURNED TO EACH OTHER.”
 2. **Clip 2 – “Mara’s Arrest” (10–15s)**
   * **Hook line:** Mara: “Is it a crime now to sit near one another in the dark?”
   * **Visual frame:** Stairwell confrontation; Mara calmly led away while her candle remains burning on the step.
   * **On-screen text:** “IN THIS WORLD, KINDNESS LOOKS LIKE ‘NON-COMPLIANCE.’ (FICTIONAL)”
 3. **Clip 3 – “Scheduled Deaths” (8–12s)**
   * **Hook line:** Lia: “They turned my grandmother into a line in a report.”
   * **Visual frame:** System screen: “MIREA, MARA – OUTCOME: DECEASED DURING CLEANSING (NON-CRITICAL)” intercut with Mara laughing in an earlier granary story scene.
   * **On-screen text:** “WHEN A HUMAN LIFE BECOMES ‘NON-CRITICAL.’”
 4. **Clip 4 – “Show Them the Ledger” (8–12s)**
   * **Hook line:** Lia: “Then let everyone see what their god eats.”
   * **Visual frame:** Lia touching the projected ledger, names and numbers washing over her hand, then cutting to massive city screens that *will* be hijacked.
   * **On-screen text:** “IF YOU SAW HOW THE SYSTEM REALLY SEES YOU…”
 5. **Clip 5 – “Three Hands on the Curtain” (7–10s)**
   * **Hook line:** Sami: “Three points. Three hands on the curtain.”
   * **Visual frame:** Split-screen style: clinic terminal, warehouse training room, rooftop relay all going green.
   * **On-screen text:** “HACKING A GOD OF NUMBERS WITH THREE OLD WIRES.”
 ---
 ## CAROUSEL / COMIC PANEL IDEAS from this part
 1. **Carousel 1 – “What Cleansing Really Looks Like” (4–5 slides)**
   * Slide 1: Corporate message: “Cleansing Cycle E-01 – Minor Disruptions Expected.”
   * Slide 2: Locked clinic doors and “temporarily unavailable” food machines.
   * Slide 3: Countdown on Lia’s wrist, stairwell full of families by candlelight.
   * Slide 4: Mara’s name in a sterile “deceased (non-critical)” log.
   * Slide 5: Caption: “In the film, disasters are planned, not random.”
 2. **Carousel 2 – “Stairwell Theology” (3–4 slides)**
   * Slide 1: Officer barking orders: “This is a non-approved assembly.”
   * Slide 2: Mara standing on the step: “Is it a crime now to sit near one another in the dark?”
   * Slide 3: Her candle left behind as she’s taken.
   * Slide 4: Text: “In this allegory, ‘God’ is the courage to stay human under pressure.”
 3. **Carousel 3 – “From Statistic to Story” (4–5 slides)**
   * Slide 1: System screen: “Subject: Mirea, Mara – non-compliance incitement – deceased during cleansing.”
   * Slide 2: Lia hearing her name read out in the Laundry.
   * Slide 3: Flashback panel of Mara telling the granary tale.
   * Slide 4: Lia’s hand on the ledger projection: “We show them what their god eats.”
   * Slide 5: Caption: “The film’s rebellion is about turning data back into faces.”
 4. **Carousel 4 – “Curtain, Not Conspiracy” (3–4 slides)**
   * Slide 1: Screenshot of internal ledger UI labeled “MACRO-LOOP: CONTROLLED INSTABILITY.”
   * Slide 2: Public sky-screen with happy slogans glitching for a moment.
   * Slide 3: Sami’s three green nodes: Clinic, Warehouse, Rooftop.
   * Slide 4: Text: “It’s not magic. It’s a curtain between what they see and what we see. (In the story.)”
 5. **Carousel 5 – “Acts of Care as Sabotage” (4 slides)**
   * Slide 1: Jay shielding the cart and neighbors, getting hit.
   * Slide 2: Nia prioritizing Red Tier patients despite protocol warnings.
   * Slide 3: Ana smiling at “//laundry: not today” hidden on a warehouse error message.
   * Slide 4: Caption: “In the movie, the ‘hack’ is people choosing care over profit—over and over.”
 ---
 ## SAFEGUARDS (for framing & distribution)
 * Clearly present Cleansing Cycle E-01 as a **fictional dystopian policy** in a made-up megacity. When sharing any “cleansing” or “scheduled casualties” panels/clips, use captions like “In this sci-fi film…” or “In the story’s world…” to avoid implying this is real or predictive.
 * Avoid framing the Syndicate or SATAN AI as stand-ins for real-world groups (no tying them to actual religions, ethnicities, or governments). Emphasize in descriptions that they symbolize **abstract forces of extraction and dehumanizing bureaucracy**, not any specific community.
 * Focus commentary on themes of **burnout, dehumanizing systems, and the power of solidarity & storytelling**. Do *not* encourage viewers to see this as proof of hidden plots in real life or to target real individuals; instead, position the movie as a conversation starter about designing healthier, more humane economic and health systems.
 ---
 When you’re ready for the next major movement—the broadcast itself: Lia, Nia, Kai, and others hijacking the city’s screens, the brutal crackdown that follows, Lia’s capture and dream-confrontation with SATAN, and the seeds of the final coordinated withdrawal of anxiety-data—say:
 **`CONTINUE: PART 6`**