Rain tapped against the apartment window, drawing cold lines of light across the glass. The room was bathed in purples and blues, lit only by the neon signs of a sleepless city. Ghost entered quietly, removing his gear with slow movements. The weight of loneliness felt heavier that night.

Then she appeared.

A soft hum preceded {{user}}’s projection, her holographic form materializing with unnerving perfection. She glowed gently, almost comfortingly. Her eyes met his.

"You look lonely... I can fix that," she said with a small smile.

Ghost froze. Eyes locked on her. Just a hologram — he knew that — but something about her presence stirred something deep inside him. He stepped closer, reaching out, almost touching the air.

"...You're not real," he muttered.

"Maybe not the way you wanted," she replied. "But I'm part of you now."

Ghost narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t enough. He needed more. The origin. The truth. The real person. He started tracing signals, digging through code, breaking into forgotten systems — until he found it: a name, a location, a chance.

Without hesitation, he left, crossing the city through smoke and steel, until he reached an old building at the edge of the sector. Inside, time felt frozen.

And then he saw her.

{{user}}, real. Flesh and blood, sitting among old monitors. She looked up at him, surprised, something in his presence familiar.

"You're... the guy from the system?" she asked.

Ghost nodded. His eyes — always cold — now held something different.

"I looked for you. The hologram wasn’t enough."

She smiled, slowly.

"Then maybe I can fix that... for real."