Fortress

«Soi» Middlegame [2] - Endgame

A deep sadness mixed with love and happiness quickly turned into fear. Mary froze, terror in her eyes, and Robert felt someone standing behind him. He didn't want to turn around, afraid he'd wake up, but his body seemed to force him to do so. When he turned, he wasn't in his room, and no one was there. The fear disappeared. Robert exhaled in relief and looked back at his daughter. Mary was dead, lying motionless in a pool of blood. Mary was dead, lying motionless in a pool of blood. Robert stood there, not breathing, not blinking, as if he didn't exist at all. He froze, trying to comprehend at least something. Before his eyes, the girl's body slowly dissolved into the air, and the space around him became even more saturated with blood, turning almost completely crimson. Mary disappeared in an instant, and in her place stood the older version of her.

"Yes, not a pleasant story, Dad," she said with a biting tone. "You know, Anna is right. I really don't exist. I only exist for you and only here, as a reminder of your mistake. You are guilty of my death. You were driving that day, after all, because you 'didn't trust autopilots that would save whoever had the more expensive insurance.' And one wrong move later, a car crashed into us from behind. Be thankful that in Soi, I didn't show you what I really looked like after the accident. Here, it's just a little pool of blood and a few scratches on my face."

"I'll bring you back!" Robert screamed in desperation.

Tears flowed down his cheeks again, his entire body was tense, fists clenched either in frustration or self-loathing.

"Us? Do you really think that by creating a digital copy of your daughter, you'll bring back Mom? Bring back me? You're a selfish bastard, trying to drown your pain with a fake. And the funniest part is, I'm telling you this-just a projection of your own mind. In essence, I am you."

Mary approached her father and, with a light push, shoved him. Robert fell back onto his bed, back in his room. He had no thoughts, no ideas, just white noise in his head and the image of his dead daughter before his eyes. He walked over to the window and opened the blinds. There was no city outside, no moon, no sun-only inky darkness, saturated with red bloodstains. Suddenly, Robert felt a gentle touch on his hand. It was Anna. She stood there, wearing the same red coat and hat, holding a long cigarette in the other hand.

"Darling, you need to let us go."

"I'll bring you back. I promise."

"You know that's impossible."

"Even if you don't come back to me, I'll have my daughter."

"It won't be her."

"It doesn't matter; she'll be the same."

"You're lying to yourself. If I'm arguing with you, then you already know everything I'm saying."

Robert went silent. He looked into his wife's eyes. The last time he had seen those eyes was so long ago he couldn't even remember. She had left him, left the hell he had turned their life into after their daughter's death. He had destroyed both himself and everyone around him, and after losing hope of helping him, she had to disappear from his life forever.

"I know," he replied with quiet resignation.

Robert leaned in and kissed Anna. Everything disappeared again. He was back in his room, and outside the window was the bright city in the daylight. Robert sat at his computer and looked at the project file labeled "Orpheus and Eurydice." Robert deleted it. A red message appeared on the screen: "Failed." Robert woke up in his real room. It looked different: old, dirty, with broken blinds and a flickering light. Robert was lying in a reclining chair that resembled a dentist's chair. Everything was covered in wires connected to a helmet on his head. On the screen in front of him was the same message: "Failed." Robert clicked on the message, and a lot of data appeared, including statistics: Attempt number 134; result-negative; progress-114% more time spent in Soi; main issue: temporary memory loss; possible solutions-none.