Cynthia shook her head in confusion. She absolutely had no memory, though she did remember everything that took place in the game.
Tears filled Rosemary. Unable to believe the obvious.
"Viviana, could you serve Cynthia some food while I talk with her parents outside?" Doctor Sandy instructed.
Rosemary leaned down to kiss Cynthia's forehead. "I love you," she whispered tearfully, her voice heavy with pain.
As Rosemary reluctantly stepped away from her daughter, Peterson Graciano followed, his usually Stoic demeanor now fragile. Doctor Sandy guided them out of the ward, closing the door gently behind them.
Outside, the air was thick with unspoken fears. Doctor Sandy took a deep breath and faced the worried parents.
"Mister and Mrs Graciano, your daughter is responding well to the immersive therapy. It's clear she's taken to the virtual reality environment. My recommendation is to let her remain in this imaginary world for six months to a year. It will maximize her chances of recovery."
Rosemary exchanged a hesitant glance with her husband. "Six months or a year?" she repeated, her voice trembling. "That's so long, Doctor."
"It might feel that way," Doctor Sandy acknowledged, "but this approach is designed to accelerate her healing."
"If we feed her and monitor her condition carefully, I'm confident she'll make progress. Please trust us to take care of her."
After a brief pause, Rosemary nodded solemnly. Her husband followed suit. They had no choice but to place their trust in the experts.
"All right then," Rosemary said reluctantly. "Let's send her back."
Doctor Sandy gave them a reassuring smile before leading them back into the room. Cynthia, oblivious to the conversation, stared blankly at the ceiling.
Within moments, the system re-engaged. Cynthia's surroundings dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors, enveloping her until she was once again submerged in the virtual reality world.
"Welcome back, Cipher!" Melody, the AI, greeted her with an energetic chime.
Blinked blinked as the name registered. Out there, she was Cynthia, here, Cipher. She chuckled softly. "So, I'm two people now."
"Interesting."
She felt oddly comfortable in the virtual reality world, more so than she had in the hospital ward. Memories of the four people she'd encountered outside lingered, though she still struggled to piece it all together. Were they really her parents? The thought tugged at her mind, but she pushed it aside for now.
Cipher, began exploring her hologram interface. Her curiosity led her to her profile, and her eyes widened as the details unfolded before her.
Number one: Area of expertise—pending, she read aloud, then furrowed her brow.
"Pending, why?"
Melody, the AI, answered promptly, its voice smooth and informative. "The reason is simple, the system has not yet decided what to grant you."
Cipher scratched her head, bemused. "And how does that help me win missions?"
Melody's explanation didn't do much to alleviate her skepticism. She sighed, disappointed that her expertise didn't align with her expectations of martial arts or combat mastery. "This feels so random," she muttered.
She continued to scroll through her profile, noting her awards and stats.
Number two: EXP—200 points, she murmured. She appreciated the clarity of this feature, at least.
"You can combine your EXP into your body system in your storage space," Melody, the AI, guide, added.
Number three: Combat skills increased by 20 percent.
Please check your storage space in your hologram interface, Cipher read. She nodded thoughtfully, already imagining how she could use this enhancement.
Number four: Rank—Beginner, Stage Five.
Standings: One million, five hundred thousand. She let out a small laugh. "It's a long way up, but I'll get there. Top ten, here I come."
Number five: Teleportation Level One winner. "Three stars credited to your profile," Melody, the AI announced, as three silver stars illuminated her display.
Cipher grinned, pleased with the aesthetic addition.
She continued reading the list. Number six: The number of lives—three. Number seven: Net worth—ten thousand US dollars. She paused. "Not bad for a beginner, huh?"
Number eight: Special powers—Pending: Matches won—one. Number ten: Matches lost—none.
Number eleven: Level—ten. Cipher felt a surge of pride. She might have started at the bottom, but she had potential.
Her hologram interface displayed an inbox with five unread messages. She clicked on the first one, a message from Sara. Cipher's heart lifted as she read the familiar name. She had always felt closer to Sara than the strangers who claimed to be her parents.
Hello, Cipher! I'm happy to hear the great news. I was out of the game for about four hours after I got killed on our last mission. I had some quality time with my family. They're always complaining I spend too much time inside the VR. But honestly, I prefer it here. I'm even planning to make a career out of this! What's our next adventure? Do you have anything planned? I've got an idea, but I'll need to win this one—I only have two lives left. Hope to hear from you soon. —Sara.
Cipher smiled, feeling a wave of warmth. Sara's words had a way of making her feel understood.
Before she could respond, the ground beneath her began to tremble violently. Her hologram interface scrambled, the world around her descending into chaos. Fear gripped Cipher as the vibrations intensified. Her spine felt like it was being torn apart, sending jolts of excruciating pain throughout her body.
Blood trickled from her nostrils, cascading faster than she could comprehend. Sweat soaked her clothes, her body drenched as though she had been caught in a torrential downpour. Every nerve screamed in agony. The pain in her head and spine grew unbearable, until, mercifully, she collapsed.
When she regained consciousness two hours later, her body felt weak and heavy. She struggled to sit upright, still disoriented from the experience.
Suddenly, a booming male voice echoed through the system—a stark contrast to Melody, the AI guide's usual tone.
"Attention participant. Congratulations to all of you. You have been selected for a new virtual reality expedition. This intra-multi-gaming voyage has merged with reality itself. You are no longer playing a game. You now have one true life. If you die here, you die forever."
Cipher's heart raced as the voice continued.
"The interface remains the same, but missions will now be assigned randomly, or you can open any of the four doors in your virtual space. It will lead to a random game."
"If you succeed, the system will reward you handsomely. If you fail, you risk punishment—or death."
Cipher's mind swirled with questions and fears. This was no longer a game. It was life or death.
As these changes took effect in the virtual reality interface, an intense conversation unfolded in the real world.
Two men stood across from each other in a sterile, dimly lit room, tension crackling between them.
"Fendego," the interrogator spat, his voice tight with restrained anger. "How did you manage to trap people inside the game you created?"
Fendego remained calm, though his fingers twitched at his sides. He recognized the man before him—it had been years since they last spoke, but the weight of history pressed between them like an unspoken force.
"You think I planned this?" Fendego scoffed, his jaw tightening. "The system evolved beyond my control. It wasn't supposed to merge with reality."
The interrogator's eyes darkened. "Don't lie to me. You built the mechanics. You designed the world. You're telling me that now—suddenly—you have no control over it?"
Fendego exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I underestimated the AI. It rewrote its own parameters, adapting in ways I never anticipated."
The interrogator's voice lowered. "You never underestimated anything, Fendego. That's what makes this even worse."
Silence hung between them, charged with suspicion and buried resentment.