"Beth! Beth! * Cough* * Cough* Where are you, Beth?"
Iris's voice cracked as she stumbled through the smoke-filled apartment, coughing violently. The air swirled in thick, grey clouds, stinging Iris's eyes and clawing at her throat.
Heat pressed against her skin like a living thing, scorching and relentless. Flames climbed the walls, devouring curtains and furniture with terrifying speed.
"I'm here!"
The reply was hoarse, desperate, and came from the bedroom.
Iris's head snapped toward the sound. Relief flooded through her, so intense it nearly brought her to her knees. Pushing through the pain in her lungs, Iris staggered toward the bedroom door. The hallway seemed to stretch forever. She finally stumbled into the room, her eyes watering. For a second, she couldn't see anything but smoke.
Then she saw her.
Bethany was curled in a ball between the bed and the open balcony door, her tall frame hunched small, arms locked over her head. Her wavy brunette hair was tangled with soot and sweat. She was shaking.
"Beth!" Iris called out.
That's when she heard the noise—a sharp crack, like wood splitting. Her eyes shot upward. The large, heavy bookshelf mounted on the wall above Bethany was coming loose. The brackets holding it were glowing red from the heat. With a groan of tearing metal, the whole shelf tilted forward.
It was going to fall. Right on top of Bethany.
Iris didn't think. She couldn't think.
She ran forward, grabbed Bethany's arm, and yanked her backward with every ounce of strength she had. At the same time, she shoved her friend toward the hallway, away from the falling shelf.
"Beth, are you alri—"
Iris turned to check on her friend, but Bethany wasn't there.
The smoke shifted in the hot wind from the balcony.
The balcony door stood wide open.
And then came the sound.
*Thud.*
It was dull. Heavy. Final.
Iris froze. Her mind refused to understand what had just happened. The world seemed to tilt sideways, reality slipping out of alignment.
Slowly—far too slowly—she walked toward the balcony.
She looked down.
Twenty-seven floors below, on the concrete ground, Bethany lay motionless in a spreading pool of dark red blood.
Iris's vision blurred. Her face went completely blank, her eyes wide and unseeing. The fire roaring behind her might as well have been miles away. She felt nothing—not the heat, not the smoke, not even her own heartbeat.
All she could see was Bethany, broken and still, so far below.
"Ma'am! Ma'am, are you alright?"
A firefighter appeared beside her, touching her shoulder. She didn't respond. Didn't even blink.
With no time to waste, the firefighter lifted her over his shoulder and carried her down through the burning building, past other firefighters with hoses, down endless flights of stairs, and finally outside into the cool night air filled with sirens and flashing lights.
Iris didn't remember any of it.
When he set her down on the pavement, her feet moved on their own.
She walked slowly, mechanically, toward the cordoned-off area where Bethany's body lay. No one stopped her. Perhaps they saw the look on her face—the look of someone whose entire world had just ended.
When she reached Bethany, Iris's legs gave out. She collapsed beside her friend, her white skirt pooling around her before slowly soaking up the blood, turning from white to red.
"Hey," Iris whispered, her voice hoarse and broken. "Hey, you dumb girl. Wake up."
She reached out with a trembling hand and gently shook Bethany's shoulder.
"Don't sleep on the ground, you idiot. Wake up already." Her voice was quiet but insistent, as if willpower alone could undo what had happened. "You know I hate jokes, right? Wake up now."
But Bethany didn't move. Her eyes stared at nothing. Her chest didn't rise or fall.
Memories crashed over Iris like waves—
The orphanage where they'd met as children. Two girls with no one else in the world, clinging to each other. Bethany's loud, infectious laughter that could brighten even the darkest days. Her ridiculous optimism that somehow made life bearable. The promise they'd made to always stay together, to always have each other's backs.
And now it was over. Their friendship—their family—had ended on the concrete below their apartment building.
"If you don't open your eyes now," Iris said, her voice breaking, "I'll tell all your dirty secrets to your so-called friends, you idiot."
Carefully, she lifted Bethany's body—it was heavy, lifeless—and pulled her into a tight embrace. She closed her eyes, holding her best friend close, praying desperately that when she opened them again, this would all be a nightmare.
Two tears slipped down her cheeks. The only tears she had shed in years.
Ding ding!
A strange sound echoed in Iris's ears, like a notification from a phone.
She didn't hear it. Nothing existed except the weight of Bethany in her arms and her fading body heat.
Ding ding!
The sound came again, more insistent.
[Suitable Hostess found,]
Avoice said directly inside Iris's head. It was neither male nor female, neither warm nor cold—just present.
Iris didn't react. What did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore.
[Dear Hostess, are you willing to sign a contract and explore a different world while gaining expe—]
The voice continued speaking, but Iris wasn't listening. She held Bethany tighter, as if she could somehow keep her friend's soul from leaving entirely.
The voice paused, as if recalculating its approach.
Then it spoke again, choosing different words. Careful words.
[Dear Hostess, are you willing to sign a contract and revive your friend?]
Iris stiffened.
The word "revive" cut through the fog in her mind like lightning.
Her head snapped up, her eyes suddenly sharp and focused.
"What... did you say?" she whispered.
The world around her seemed to fade—the sirens, the firefighters, the flashing lights—until only that voice remained.
"Who are you?" Iris demanded, scanning the empty air around her. "Show yourself!"
A futuristic translucent blue panel flickered into existence before her eyes, floating in the air like a hologram. Words appeared on it, glowing softly.
[I am the System.]