The door pulsed like a heartbeat.
Not metal. Not wood. It was made of light—woven strands of memory and code. Rei and Nao stood before it, suspended in the white space like thoughts waiting to be spoken.
"Are you ready?" Nao asked.
Rei nodded. "Only one way to find out."
They stepped through.
The first thing he felt was warmth.
Not the blistering artificial heat of a fire script, but the real thing—sunlight on skin. The smell of cut grass. A breeze that stirred the hair on his arms.
They were standing in a field, stretching far and wide. Flowers bloomed with too much color. The sky looked hand-painted, as if someone had dipped their fingers into nostalgia and smeared it across the clouds.
Then Rei saw the house.
His house.
The porch. The swing. The front steps where he scraped his knee when he was six.
He was frozen.
"No," Nao whispered. "This isn't right."
But Rei was already walking.
Inside, it smelled like cinnamon and old books. His father's records. The wallpaper with that dumb giraffe print. Everything was there. Perfectly preserved.
"Rei—"
He heard the voice.
"Big brother?"
His heart stopped.
She stood at the top of the stairs.
Short, brown hair in soft curls. That crooked smile. The hoodie she used to wear like a cape.
"Kaia."
He was moving before he knew it, bounding up the stairs. She met him halfway and threw her arms around him.
It felt real. Too real.
Rei couldn't breathe.
"How are you here?" he whispered into her shoulder.
Kaia giggled. "You're always so dramatic. I never left."
Behind them, Nao stood still—watching, silent. Her fists clenched.
"This isn't her," she said flatly.
Rei pulled back, scowling. "What?"
Nao stepped forward. "You saw it collapse. Everything fell. The simulation crashed. This place isn't a world. It's a bargain. A trick."
Kaia looked up at her, innocent and unblinking. "Don't listen to her, Rei. She's scared. She doesn't belong here."
Nao ignored her. "Think. Feel. You're not in your body. You're still inside the network. It's patching what it broke. And it's using her to keep you from escaping."
Rei's breath faltered.
Kaia tilted her head. "Why would I lie to you?"
"She's not lying," Nao said. "She's not even real. She's a reconstruction—based on your grief. Your memories. Your weakness."
Rei looked at Kaia again—and this time, his eyes were searching. Seeing.
She was perfect.
Too perfect.
She didn't have the scar above her eyebrow from the fall off the jungle gym. Her hoodie wasn't frayed like it used to be. Her laugh was on a loop. Every smile was a memory he wanted to remember.
"Rei," Nao said quietly. "You have to let her go."
"No." His voice cracked. "You don't understand. I left her. I broke the loop, and I never went back. If I had just—"
"Then this is the final test," Nao said. "And if you fail, you stay here. Forever. In a lie."
Kaia clung to him tighter. "We can have everything again, Rei. Just say the word. We don't have to run. You don't have to fight."
The words felt like honey—and poison.
He closed his eyes.
Thought of the loops.
The endless cycles. The pain. The guilt.
He remembered Kaia fading in one of the first simulations. Her goodbye.
She had already said it.
What stood in front of him now… wasn't her. No matter how badly he wanted it to be.
Rei opened his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Kaia's smile froze. For the first time, her eyes twitched—uncertain.
"I want to believe you're real," Rei said. "But if I stay here… if I pretend… then I lose you again. And I won't do that."
He stepped back.
Kaia reached for him, but her hand glitched—just for a second. Static crawled across her fingers like frost.
"You don't have to go," she said. Her voice trembled now. "We could be a family again…"
But Rei turned away.
And as he walked, she called out:
"You'll never find me in the real world. I was your anchor. Without me—you'll drown."
Rei paused at the door.
Then looked back one last time.
"You were my anchor," he said. "And now… I have to swim."
He opened the door.
Nao followed.
And the world behind them shattered into digital ash.
They were back in white.
Nao exhaled like she'd been holding her breath for a lifetime.
"That," she said, "was the system's last card."
Rei nodded slowly. "It almost worked."
"But it didn't."
He looked at her.
"I knew you were right. But I had to feel it. I had to let her go with both hands."
Ahead of them, the white space bent—another door forming. Smaller. Simpler.
"Then let's move," Nao said. "One step closer to the real world."
Rei took her hand.
They stepped forward again—into whatever truth waited beyond.