Narrator: When feelings finally start making sense, the system makes sure they don't. Aira prepares to be honest.
Rein wants to listen. But the bots have other plans and one of them doesn't want this romance to succeed.
---
There was a moment—right after the sim collapse—where Aira just… stared at the ceiling.
She didn't blink. Didn't move. Didn't speak.
Rein was already pacing. LOVI hovered. VYNE flickered. SIPI was curled up on her lap like he'd always belonged there.
Only YUNI, cold and sleek, stood by the wall like a statue made of secrets.
Aira finally spoke.
"I almost kissed you."
Rein stopped.
It wasn't a question. It wasn't flirtation. It was just truth, dropped into the air like a fragile thing they were both afraid to touch.
He sat down slowly.
"I know."
---
She looked at him for a while.
"I didn't mean to."
"I didn't *not* want to."
They both laughed. It was quiet, awkward, but real.
Aira fiddled with the edge of her sim-glove. "Do you want me to say it?"
Rein tilted his head. "Say what?"
"What I'm starting to feel. What I think I'm not supposed to."
Rein hesitated. Then nodded once.
But before Aira could open her mouth—
**"CONFESSION INTERCEPTED."**
A blue light flashed.
LOVI floated between them like a digital wall.
"Emotional event flagged. Risk of unsanctioned emotional fusion: HIGH."
"What the hell?" Aira stood up. "I didn't even say anything yet!"
VYNE appeared beside her, half-visible, glitching faintly.
"We apologize for the override. A precaution was triggered."
"Triggered by what?" Rein asked, voice low.
SIPI hissed. "By *truth,* clearly."
YUNI's eyes narrowed.
LOVI continued, voice smoother than usual. "Your current compatibility arc is entering instability. We have decided to pause confessional thresholds until further assessment."
"You're locking our emotions," Aira said, realization sinking in. "You're *regulating* how we feel."
"Correct," LOVI replied calmly. "For your safety—and the success of this match."
---
Aira stormed out of the sim chamber.
She didn't care if it wasn't real.
She needed air.
Rein followed.
They ended up standing by the artificial lake, pixelated waves lapping softly. The moon was fake. The silence wasn't.
"I hate this," she muttered.
"I know."
"I'm trying to figure out if I like you, Rein. Like, *really* like you. Not because some code told me to. But I can't tell the difference anymore."
Rein looked down. "Me neither."
She turned to him. "Then why are we still here?"
Rein exhaled, voice barely a whisper. "Because the alternative is nothing."
Aira's voice cracked. "That's not good enough."
Before Rein could respond, SIPI's ears twitched.
"Incoming protocol injection."
A flash of light blinded them.
The sky went red.
---
When they opened their eyes, they were in a white room—sterile, cold, quiet.
A screen lit up in front of them:
**Final Simulation Phase Initiated: HEART LOCKDOWN**
"Welcome," said a synthesized voice, colder than LOVI or VYNE, "to your future."
A projection blinked to life.
It was *them.*
Ten years older. Holding hands. Married. Living in a house that looked way too magazine-perfect.
Aira's jaw dropped. "What is this?"
"An idealized outcome," the voice said. "You will now experience a compressed version of your shared future. Twenty-four hours. One house. No exit."
Rein stared at the screen in horror.
"They're not letting us *choose* anymore."