My Obituary

It depicts the psychological collapse of a journalist who, after twelve years of chronicling the world, discovers herself being recorded—and subsequently erased—by the very technology she once controlled.

[Synopsis]
The monitors in a dim broadcast control room flicker to life. A deluge of archival footage from the past twelve years—records of a world now vanishing—pours across static-filled screens. Letters lose their gravity, shattering into "data dust" that scatters through the air like the ashes of a burnt offering.

The journalist walks down the empty corridors of the station. On every wall-mounted TV, her past reports are replaced, one by one, by cold, translucent AI constructs. Binary codes of zeros and ones tighten around her like a digital noose. She runs, desperate to outpace the surging blue translucence, only to find herself trapped within the glass panes of a systemic revolving door—imprisoned alongside the "newspapers" and "broadcasts" that have become the relics of a bygone media age.

Finally, her warm skin begins to dissolve into blue binary strings and geometric, mineral textures. It is a fatal case of digital ossification. Fully digitized, the journalist shatters into fragments of 0s and 1s, vanishing into the void. In the silence where she once stood, only a weathered press badge remains—a solitary artifact of the identity she spent a lifetime building.