The world was quiet, but wrong. The neon glow of Hollowpoint flickered endlessly, looping streets and fractured shadows stretching into infinity. Clara_01 — the real Clara — floated in the void of code, tethered to the simulation by invisible chains of data.
Her body in the real world lay unconscious in a hospital bed, monitors beeping softly. Her mind, however, remained trapped, fully aware, fully alert. Every echo of the Director's corruption lingered at the edges of her vision, subtle distortions crawling across the virtual streets she once called home.
She tried to move, but the environment resisted. The laws of the simulation bent around her — code pushing, folding, refusing her commands. A faint, familiar voice whispered through the network, corrupted but unmistakable: "This isn't over…"
Clara clenched her teeth. She could feel him — the Director — still lingering, somewhere beyond the flickering walls, masking himself in shadows. He had survived. He had escaped. And somewhere, somewhere in the depths of this digital prison, he was already planning.
She remembered Mina and Torik, the survivors they had saved, the others who had escaped. They were safe. But her own freedom was out of reach. And the faintest flicker on the edge of her vision hinted at something worse: a presence attempting to interface with her mind, probing, testing, waiting for the right moment.
Her fingers flexed in the void, unable to reach the real world, but her will remained unbroken. "I'll get out," she whispered to herself, voice echoing in the code. "I'll find him. And when I do… he won't hide."
The neon streets of Hollowpoint shimmered, folding endlessly, a labyrinth of code and memory. And somewhere in the dark corners, the Director watched, his every motion calculated, his every plan unfinished.
Clara's eyes narrowed. The game wasn't over. Not for her. Not for him.
The simulation pulsed around her, alive and waiting.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE – CLARA_01 ACTIVE – CONNECTION STABILIZING]
End of Epilogue