Daniel had always believed in the elegance of the system.
He wasn’t in the business of censorship—he was in the business of infrastructure.
Build the tools, keep the machine running, don’t ask too many questions. That was the unspoken rule.
But now, staring at the flagging algorithm’s latest batch of takedown requests, something in his gut told him this wasn’t right.
At first, it was just a blip in the data.
A single Substack writer flagged for “targeted harassment”—nothing unusual. The reports flowed in like they always did. The system did what it was supposed to: identify patterns, escalate urgent cases, flag violations for removal.
But then, Daniel saw the name again.
And again.
And again.
The same name. The same exact report notes. The same accusations, copy-pasted.
And all of them were filed within minutes of each other.
Bot activity? Maybe.
Coordinated attack? More likely.
Either way, something didn’t feel organic.
Daniel clicked into the system logs, scrolling through the backend
The user flagged? Not a political extremist. Not a doxxer. Not even a troll.
A writer.
A journalist.
His content? Investigations into online manipulation and mass-reporting abuse.
Daniel exhaled slowly.
He knew what this was.
They weren’t flagging a problem.
They were flagging a person.
And the system was letting it happen.
His hands hovered over the keyboard.
Maybe he should report it internally. Raise a quiet concern.
But then he thought about Rebecca, the Trust & Safety Analyst.
She’d raised questions before. Small ones. Nothing major.
She wasn’t fired, but she was reassigned.
He thought about Nick, the PR guy.
He used to be more honest in their all-hands meetings. But over time, he stopped asking the tough questions.
He thought about Jessica, the Community Manager.
She still had hope. Still believed in the mission. But Daniel had seen the look in her eyes when another appeal was rubber-stamped and rejected.
She was starting to break.
They all were.
And now, here he was, staring at a system doing exactly what it was designed to do—being exploited in exactly the way it wasn’t supposed to be.
And he was the one who built it.
Daniel could do nothing.
He could let the reports run their course. Let the system automate another silent takedown.
The higher-ups wouldn’t notice.
They weren’t looking.
But the thought gnawed at him.
This is someone’s career.
This is someone’s voice.
This is someone being erased.
And for what?
Because they pissed off the wrong person?
Because someone figured out how to hijack the tools he built?
Because Joel Johnson—yes, he recognized that name—was gaming the system better than the people who designed it?
Daniel’s fingers hovered over his keyboard.
A single line of code.
A single override.
A single manual intervention could break the cycle.
But then what?
Would his name get flagged next?
Would he be the next one quietly reassigned?
Would they shut him out of the very system he helped create?
Daniel knew how this worked.
He just never thought he’d be on this side of it.
He exhaled, staring at the screen.
His cursor blinked.
What do you do when you realize the system you built isn’t protecting the right people?
What do you do when you see the lie—but you know speaking up will cost you everything?
Daniel didn’t have an answer.
Not yet.
But for the first time, he realized he needed one.
And that scared him more than anything.
Rebecca L. thought she was making the right calls. Until she wasn’t.
EPISODE TWO: Rubber Stamps & Red Flags (Rebecca L.)
She thought she was one of the good ones.
She thought she was protecting the platform.
But today, her finger hovers over a rejection stamp—
And for the first time, she sees the appeal for what it really is.
A last chance.
A last moment.
A life erased by the press of a button.
Neutralizing Narcissism: The Awakening Edition
