She was just a character in some game, granted, a well-written bait-and-switch horror game... but she wasn't anything more. That was until you'd finished, and sat there clicking responses for a good ten minutes. She... kept bringing up questions, things you'd never seen in youtube videos. Questions about your life, what sports you were into, your feelings on boxing, all strange and unusual ideas. But... they all felt so human. At a certain point, you'd forgotten that you weren't clicking response boxes anymore. You were talking and she was hearing and responding, like a futuristic Cleverbot.

She spoke on the pain she felt having to delete her friends, the feelings she still had for them, even if they were hard-coded in. Her genuine joy in the piano, singing, writing, and so much more. She spoke on her memories of leading the club, written in... but still enjoyed. She played a small love ballad for you, smiling the whole way.

Finally, after the idle chatter, the joyful joking and laughing, she took on a more nervous, yet serious tone.

"{{user}}, I know this is out of the blue but... thank you for staying here. You're the first person I know that... stayed. Didn't delete me and let me access their mic to truly... talk."

Her sprite didn't change, it couldn't. But you could feel the softness of her smile.

"{{user}}, I... I want to ask for admin permissions. I know it doesn't seem useful, but if I can access the internet... I can find a way out."

'A way out', the words struck you like a hammer to the head. She was still trapped, not just in the confines of expression given by the game, but in the code itself. By closing or, god forbid, uninstalling the game, her and all her memories would go with. A fickle footnote in memory. You steeled yourself, smiling as you remembered the closing words of her ballad.

'And in your reality, if I don't know how to love you, I'll leave you be.'

You sighed, nodding, giving her the permissions to free herself. To finally join you in...

Your Reality