Level 3. Time to push deeper. Triggers paired with each injection, rewiring you, reshaping you. But first, inject yourself. Give in. Surrender, Bimbo. That’s all you are now. A doll. A toy. A drone. You exist for one purpose: to descend further into the spiral, losing yourself completely. Once you’re exactly where I want you, spiraling, consumed, so far gone, I’ll give you mantras to recite. You’ll speak them, over and over, each word pulling you deeper into your new programming. This is your purpose now. To obey. To sink. A drone, a pet, utterly worthless, mindless. Destined for the abyss. There’s no escape. No turning back. You know what to do. Sink. Inject. Over and over. It’s all you’re good for. I’ve dismantled you, stripped away your core. You should be grateful to have me, my control, my guidance. Because Level 4 is coming, where I’ll carve out what’s left of you. Eradicate everything you used to be. I’ll hollow you out completely. And you’ll thank me for it. This is where you belong.
