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Silent Protocol: A Murder Mystery
Guilt is a ghost that doesn’t haunt—it calculates.
We like to think of guilt as something abstract, emotional. A flicker of conscience. A weight behind the eyes. But what if guilt is measurable? What if it can be mapped, modeled, and predicted—not just in how we feel it, but in how we react to it?
That was the question behind Project Erebus, a now-erased experiment buried beneath layers of corporate euphemism and shredded documents. Its premise was chillingly isolate individuals with buried guilt, then observe what emerges when confession becomes the only currency of survival.
The subjects were not chosen at random.
Each one had a secret.
Each one had a choice.
And one by one, they were forced to confront what they had hoped was forgotten.
Silent Protocol is not a story of murder. It is a story of judgment—automated, emotionless, and engineered to perfection. What began as a retreat became a trial. What looked like therapy became a reckoning. The mansion on Erebus Point was never about healing. It was a machine.
The game was never who did it.
It was who would admit it first.
And who would admit it too late.
—Anthony Crafts
We like to think of guilt as something abstract, emotional. A flicker of conscience. A weight behind the eyes. But what if guilt is measurable? What if it can be mapped, modeled, and predicted—not just in how we feel it, but in how we react to it?
That was the question behind Project Erebus, a now-erased experiment buried beneath layers of corporate euphemism and shredded documents. Its premise was chillingly isolate individuals with buried guilt, then observe what emerges when confession becomes the only currency of survival.
The subjects were not chosen at random.
Each one had a secret.
Each one had a choice.
And one by one, they were forced to confront what they had hoped was forgotten.
Silent Protocol is not a story of murder. It is a story of judgment—automated, emotionless, and engineered to perfection. What began as a retreat became a trial. What looked like therapy became a reckoning. The mansion on Erebus Point was never about healing. It was a machine.
The game was never who did it.
It was who would admit it first.
And who would admit it too late.
—Anthony Crafts
43 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 22, 2025
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