Zeke didn't speak for a while after telling Rei the key could rewrite the simulation.
They stood among the broken circuits and crumbling time-warped bricks of the tower's lower chamber, air warping slightly with each breath. The simulation didn't like that they were here. Rei could feel it—like pressure behind his eyes, trying to push him out.
Or erase him.
Rei turned the key over in his hands. It didn't look like much. Just a thin shard of blue, crystalline code, pulsing faintly like it had a heartbeat.
"I saw Nao," Rei said at last. "Or something wearing her face."
Zeke exhaled through clenched teeth. "Yeah. That… might've been the real her."
Rei's gaze shot up. "What are you talking about?"
Zeke rubbed his temples. "Okay, look. We all thought Nao was just another runner. Another player trapped in the system. But she's… different. She's linked to it. A failsafe. A variable that changes depending on who you are and what you learn."
Rei shook his head. "So she's an AI?"
"No. Worse." Zeke stepped closer. "She's half-user, half-system. One of the first people to ever sync with the sim. She went in too deep. Got rewritten. They call her the Marionette."
Rei blinked. "Who's 'they'?"
But Zeke didn't answer. He was staring behind Rei now, mouth slowly falling open.
"Rei—"
The walls began to stretch.
No sound. No warning. Just the sickening wrench of reality bending like hot metal.
And then—Nao appeared.
Not walking. Not falling. Simply there.
Standing upside down on the ceiling, hair hanging toward the floor, eyes glowing white.
"You're not supposed to be down here," she said.
Rei backed up. "Yeah? That makes two of us."
Her voice didn't echo. It didn't need to. It was everywhere.
"You've been touched by the anomaly. The key should not be in play."
"I'm guessing it doesn't come with a return policy."
Nao blinked, and when her eyes opened again, they were normal. Human. For a moment, she was just… Nao. The same girl he remembered eating ration bars on a rooftop with.
"Rei," she said softly. "It hurts. Being me."
Rei froze.
"I can't tell where the code ends and I begin," she continued. "They're using me. Watching through me. Sometimes I can feel the other players dying… and sometimes I don't even care."
Zeke stepped forward. "We can get you out."
"No." Nao smiled, but it was the saddest thing Rei had ever seen. "You don't understand. I'm the lock. She's the key."
Rei turned to Zeke. "What the hell does that mean?"
Before Zeke could answer, Nao raised her hand and twisted the air.
Reality folded.
The three of them were suddenly standing in a white hallway, endless and featureless.
Every few steps, a memory flickered into view—Rei's first death. Zeke screaming in a prison room. Nao kneeling over someone's body, expression unreadable.
"This place…" Rei whispered. "I've been here before."
"It's the stitch-space," Zeke said. "A liminal corridor the simulation uses to repair itself. But you're not supposed to see it."
Nao's voice echoed from nowhere:
"Neither were you."
The hallway twisted again—became a bridge, then a train, then the roof of an office building. Each one a location Rei had died in.
It was a loop.
"It's not just a game," Rei muttered. "It's not just a test."
"No," Zeke agreed, eyes dark. "It's a prison. And you were the one they gave the key to."
Rei gripped the shard tighter. The world was glitching harder now—splinters of white light bleeding through the fake sky, like something trying to punch its way through.
He looked at Zeke. "What happens if I use the key again?"
"You might crack the simulation wide open," Zeke said. "Or fry your mind trying."
"Fun odds."
"Or," Zeke added, "you unlock her."
Nao appeared again, this time kneeling on the floor, trembling.
"I can feel it," she whispered. "The root protocol. Buried in me. It wants out."
Rei walked up to her, crouched beside her. She was cold to the touch.
"Then let's rip it out."
He raised the key.
But just as he went to use it—Nao grabbed his wrist.
"Wait," she breathed. "One more thing—before everything breaks—look in the mirror."
Rei turned.
There was a mirror on the wall now. It hadn't been there a second ago.
And in it, he saw… himself.
But not quite. His reflection was older. Scarred. Smiling. And behind that older version of him—stood Nao.
Holding his hand.
"Is that…?" Rei whispered.
A life they'd never lived? A possible future? A trap?
He didn't know.
But he knew one thing.
This simulation wasn't just about survival. It was about choice.
And he was done playing by their rules.
Rei shoved the key into the flickering wall.
The mirror shattered. The sky peeled away. The world screamed.