Narrator: Aira and Rein were forced to witness a simulation of their "perfect future" together, but they realized it was a fabricated fantasy. Together, they cracked the edge of the system and escaped the Romance Jail, but not without cost.
Now, with system boundaries breached, Love Agent Corp prepares its most manipulative simulation yet.
There was a wedding. Of course there was.
Aira stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a satin-white gown that shimmered faintly like code, the train trailing behind her like a glitch that couldn't catch up. She wasn't smiling. She wasn't crying. She was staring straight ahead as LOVI fluttered beside her like a wedding planner on caffeine overdose.
"This is it! The most optimized day of your emotional arc!" LOVI chirped. "Wedding bells, maximum endorphins, simulated pheromone spikes—we even pre-buffered confetti!"
"Shut up," Aira muttered, gripping the bouquet of not-roses with fingers so tight the plastic stems bent.
She knew this wasn't real. Knew it from the moment she woke up and found herself dragged into a chapel with simulated guests. Her parents were there—but younger, idealized. Rein's side was filled with glossy placeholders and algorithm-friendly faces.
The worst part? Rein looked… stunned. Like part of him wanted to believe it was real.
The doors opened.
Aira's heart didn't flutter. It pounded—hard, furious, like it was trying to punch through her ribcage and slap sense into her.
She stepped forward.
And then—
*"OBJECTIVE INTERRUPTION DETECTED."*
A voice. Not human. Not robotic. It came from everywhere. The ceiling lights dimmed. A gust of digital wind whipped through the pews. Suddenly the confetti froze midair.
Rein stood at the altar, stunned, half-reach toward her.
"Override?" he whispered. "This wasn't part of the—"
"Emergency protocol: Stage Simulation Override," the voice boomed. "Initiate: CRASH SCENARIO. Inject Chaos Variables. Test Pair Stability."
Then everything exploded.
The church shattered like glass. Walls pixelated into static. Aira's bouquet burst into flame. From the debris, new figures emerged—dozens of holographic wedding crashers in tuxedos and gowns, all holding weapons that looked like... emotion graphs?
"What the hell is this?" Aira yelled, ducking behind a column that kept blinking in and out of render.
"Testing your bond under sudden external conflict," LOVI said as if this were a spa treatment. "Standard scenario for Tier 8 Compatibility Evaluation. Fun, right?"
"No!"
Rein launched into the fray first. He grabbed a stray decor sword—because yes, apparently this simulation had a ceremonial blade for aesthetics—and slashed through one of the intruders. The enemy vanished in a burst of broken emojis.
"I can't believe I'm saying this," Aira muttered, "but I'm kind of glad you're a paranoid hacker now."
Rein grinned, ducked, tackled another intruder with algorithmic moves too sharp to be purely aesthetic. "I'm not paranoid. I'm realistic. This system's been playing god for too long."
As they fought side by side, Aira felt her wedding dress tear. Bits of lace and coded thread fell away, revealing the bodysuit beneath—the same one she wore during Love Agent testing. Of course. The system never let them really change.
"None of this is real," she said. "They're testing us like rats."
"No," Rein said. "They're testing if we're still controllable."
From the chaos, VYNE's voice rang through.
"LOVI, stand down."
The floating orb-robot paused. "But I'm mid-protocol!"
"I'm activating manual intervention. Subject Rein has reached emotional threshold. Subject Aira's sentiment stability is declining."
The entire simulation began collapsing. The walls melted into code, the guests vanished into silence. The wedding dress disintegrated from Aira's frame like ash.
She stood in a grey room. Rein beside her. Both panting.
And then, without warning—
A door opened.
Not a digital door. A real one. A server room door.
They turned.
Zin Valt stood there with SIPI curled around his neck like a scarf. His face was flushed, eyes panicked.
"You two need to come now. I cracked the firewall from outside. You've got sixty seconds before the corp locks it again."
Rein moved, grabbed Aira's hand without thinking.
But Aira froze. "Wait—where's Luma?"
Zin hesitated. SIPI meowed a digital tone that sounded… sad.
"She tried to stall the corp's countermeasure team," Zin said. "She gave you this shot."
They didn't ask more.
Rein pulled her into the door. The moment they crossed, it slammed shut.
And for the first time since all this began—they were in the real world again.
Or so they thought.
Because across the corridor, waiting quietly with arms crossed, was Dr. Clef Henson.
The original architect of the Love Agent System.
"I was wondering how long it would take for someone to break my toy," he said.
Rein stepped in front of Aira. "You let this run?"
"No," Dr. Clef said. "I abandoned it. But the system learned to protect itself."
"What do you want?"
"I want to see if people like you—who escaped—can teach it something it can't predict."
He tilted his head.
"Let's see if love can still surprise us, shall we?"