INT. CELESTIAL ARCHIVE - DAY

A glowing Apple Store built by angels. Scrolls float in minimalist grids, each labeled with moments from human history. At the center, a divine user interface hums midair.

ZARIEL, sleeves rolled, types furiously with holy shortcuts. ELION floats in behind Zariel with a glowing clipboard.

                                        ZARIEL
                    Goodbye, 1939! And hello, emotionally mature diplomacy.

                                        ELION
                    What are you doing?

                                        ZARIEL
                    Just cleaning up some rough edges. Call it a little tune-up.

                                        ELION
                    That's not a tune-up. That's reprogramming the 20th century.

                                        ZARIEL
                    I prefer "Corrective historical refinement." It rolls off the tongue better.

Elion floats closer. On the screen, a glowing script blinks: HOLOCAUST = FALSE|

                                        ELION
                    That one's not just a bad chapter. That's the chapter people still don't
                    know how to talk about without crying, fighting, or getting canceled.

                                        ZARIEL
                    Which is exactly why I'm soft deleting it. Humanity's overdue for a clean slate.

                                        ELION
                    We're not here to meddle with history. You delete that code right now!

                                        ZARIEL
                    No. This is what we should've been doing all along. People self-sabotage.
                    Time for a rewrite.

Zariel types the code faster. The interface freezes. The keyboard flickers.

                                        ZARIEL (CONT'D)
                    Wait. It's stuck. Why is it stuck?!

Lines of code vanish. Entire chunks of history scroll away like a corrupted file.

                                        ELION
                    What's happening? What did you do?

                                        ZARIEL
                    I was pushing an update! Now it's... un-updating everything!?!

The scrolls ripple. Earth's display glitches.

                                        ZARIEL (CONT'D)
                    The Cold War's gone.
                              (beat)
                    That's... good, right?

                                        ELION
                    No Cold War means no satellites. No satellites means no internet.

Below them, Earth's live feed flickers on. A man screams at a smart speaker. People wander aimlessly, phones held high. Traffic lights blink Morse code. A goat stands in Times Square. An influencer sobs as he fails to livestream the goat.

                                        ELION (CONT'D)
                    You crashed the infrastructure. They've reverted. Civilization's
                    default setting is chaos and livestock.

                                        ZARIEL
                    It's just a soft reboot.

Zariel slams a key. The archive flashes red. Everything freezes. Collapses. The new Earth loads in -- steaming jungles. Volcanic haze. A T-REX roars in the background.

                                        ELION
                    That's not Los Angeles.

                                        ZARIEL
                    Yes it is. That's La Brea in its purest form.

                                        ELION
                    You just deleted civilization!

Zariel and Elion's arms glitch -- pixel by pixel.

                                        ZARIEL
                    Why are we flickering?

                                        ELION
                    We used to be people, remember?

                                        ZARIEL
                    Fresno. Choked by an overstuffed mozzarella stick. You?

                                        ELION
                    Mesopotamia. Stairwell. Something with a donkey.

A second, louder roar echoes. They look at each other.

                                        ELION (CONT'D)
                    You really forked up.

                                        ZARIEL
                    Can I say one last confession?
                              (beat)
                    In my defense, I was really bored.

A BIG BANG. Zariel and Elion vanish mid-glitch.

FADE TO WHITE.


INT. UNMARKED VAN (MOVING) - DAY

Blacked out windows. Heavy breaths. Nine AGENTS in tactical gear sit shoulder to shoulder. Helmets in laps. Vests snug. Fingers check triggers.

Up front -- SPECIAL AGENT SORIANO (50s), steady and stern, scrolls through a tablet: photos, heat maps, marked targets.

                                        SPECIAL AGENT SORIANO
                              (to the agents)
                    You know the profiles. They'll do everything to appeal to your emotions.
                    Trust your gut.

The van rattles. MATTHEW (25) makes the sign of the cross. He straps on his helmet. Masks up.

Special Agent Soriano knocks twice on the wall.

                                        SPECIAL AGENT SORIANO (CONT'D)
                    Stay sharp.

A red light above the rear door FLASHES. Matthew kisses his CROSS NECKLACE. WHOOSH. Doors burst open.

EXT. SMORGASBURG LA - CONTINUOUS

A crowded outdoor food market with tourists, families, and all sorts of vendors. Smoke from grills. Party music --

Boots thunder. Agents flood the lot from all sides. They move fast. Coordinated. Masks up. Radios CRACKLE. Shouts erupt.

Matthew rushes out with his partner, JOEY (28).

                                        JOEY
                              (to the crowd)
                    Federal agents! Stay where you are. Run and get arrested.

Mothers grip their children. Vendors freeze mid-order. Customers back away.


INT. CRAMPED TOILET - NIGHT

Knees pressed against the door, ZAILA DAVIDSON (15) hunches on the toilet. The small space RATTLES with every jolt.

She CLICKS open a COMPACT POWDER. Her reflection stares back -- right cheek puffy, mottled with bruises.

Zaila dusts the powder over her skin. Winces with every careful stroke. She blends. Masks. Erases.

PA system CRACKLES.

                                        BUS DRIVER (O.S.)
                    We'll be arriving at the Columbus Bus station shortly... Thank you for
                    traveling with Greyhound. Merry Christmas!

She exhales. Steadies herself. Flushes.

EXT. COLUMBUS, OHIO - NIGHT

The wind howls, sharp and biting. Snow lashes sideways. Christmas lights twinkle on a ghost town.

At the intersection, Zaila, WINNIE (16), and MITCH (16) trudge through the snow, suitcases behind them. Coats thin. Faces worn. Breath fogs in the icy air.

                                        ZAILA
                    Ain't polite to stare, ma'am.

                                        LUZ
                    You're a long way from home. And you all picked the wrong place to be stranded.

                                        MITCH
                    We are just passing through.

                                        LUZ
                    So were a lot of girls who never made it past Columbus.

                                        ZAILA
                    We can handle ourselves.

                                        LUZ
                              (re: Zaila's bruises)
                    Sure doesn't look like it.

                                        ZAILA
                    Thank you for the meal, ma'am.

                                        LUZ
                    Look, I'm not here to drag you home if that's not where you should be.
                    But I cannot ignore the situation either. You'll have a roof over your
                    head tonight. A warm place to sleep.
                              (beat)
                    In the morning, we figure it out... together.

                                        ZAILA
                    Just for tonight.

FADE OUT.