The Typewriter's Prophecies Always Come True by Choice

Beneath a century-old library in the City of Fog lies an archive room containing an old-fashioned typewriter. Every midnight, it begins typing on its own, printing the final words of strangers in faded ink. Each message records the exact time, place, and manner of death, down to the minute. For three years, every prophecy has come true. Recently, the fragments have begun repeating place names and pronouns, gradually piecing together a death scene that has yet to occur. Every message ends with the same stubbornly repeated word: “voluntary.” The pages are secretly filed away, forming a growing collection of death prophecies, while the blank space on the final pages waits for a complete name to be filled in.