186722

He looked at the ledger. The number 186722 belonged to a woman named Clara Vance. According to the records, she had been a "Collector of Unspoken Words." Curious, Elias pulled her physical file—the last one before the machine would finally transition to a fully digital existence.

Elias looked at the counter. It felt heavy now. To click it to 186723 would mean finishing his own ledger, ending his own era. He realized Clara hadn't been collected; she had been waiting. He took his pen, scratched out his own name under the next entry, and instead wrote: “Still breathing.” 186722

For forty years, Elias had been the "Tallyman." Every time a person’s life story was officially digitized and stored in the Great Cloud, the counter clicked forward. He was responsible for ensuring that no soul was left as a mere ghost in the paper stacks. He looked at the ledger