You’re not crazy. You’re just paying attention.

In a city where empathy has been replaced by protocol, where grief has a timestamp, and where even your dreams are subject to review, one woman keeps a forbidden journal. Not to remember the world as it was, but to prove it ever existed at all. Each entry is a quiet rebellion—a record of love without logic, chaos without calculation, and loss that won’t submit to a scheduling algorithm.

This is not a dystopia. It’s worse. It’s a perfectly functioning society.

For fans of razor-wire prose and slow-burning dread, Her Silence Was System Error is a psychological descent that doesn’t scream. It watches. It waits. It whispers just loud enough to be heard—if you’re still human enough to listen.
Read carefully. Some truths weren’t meant to survive optimization.