The next few hours flew by in a blur.
Heather's dad had responded to his daughter's call in a flash, checking Kaitlyn's pulse and calling an ambulance. A group of paramedics quickly transferred her to a stretcher and stuffed her in the back of the vehicle before racing toward the hospital. At some point, someone gently closed her eyes, plunging her into darkness. It was a welcome relief, given how painfully dry they'd become, but it certainly didn't help the panic one bit.
Her only indications of where she was were the sounds of chattering medical professionals around her and occasional flashes of light behind her eyelids. Occasionally, they'd open her eyes to shine a light into them, allowing her to see the tubes that had been hooked up to her.
The whole while, one thought kept repeating through her head: how long would this last?
It can't be that much longer… right?
But as the hours turned into days, her hope began to wane. Each muttered conversation at her bedside and nurse cheerily speaking to her as though she were a vegetable—which, she supposed, she kind of was—made the grim reality of her situation slowly settle in. She was stuck.
The doctors had no idea how to fix her. Evidently, the tests they ran picked up on her brain activity, so they didn't write her off completely. She clung to that fact like a liferaft. She still had no idea what would happen if she died in a loop, and despite how awful her current situation was, it was still preferable to that. But it didn't change the reality of the situation. She'd be stuck here until the game decided to release her.
Shoot. I really messed up.
She'd expected the game to punish her somehow. The red exclamation marks had always heralded something unpleasant headed her way, usually after she tried telling someone about the time loop. The addition of a third one suggested that this punishment would be even worse than before. In fact, extending the paralysis might have even been a reasonable expectation. But it certainly didn't feel like that, now that she was actually here and living through it.
What if it doesn't let up? What if it makes me stay like this for a whole loop—or even longer?
The thought terrified her. After all, it didn't exactly need to release her, did it? Unless there was some upper limit on the number of cycles in the game—which she highly doubted, given what she knew—it could theoretically keep her here forever.
…No. No, it won't do that. I mean, maybe it could. But it's spent all this effort making me go through endings and play the game. So just letting me rot for all eternity would be a complete waste. Right? It's probably just trying to teach me a lesson, that's all…
Still, there was a huge difference between "forever" and "an incredibly long time." If the game took particular offense to her hacking attempt, then maybe it would stick her here for an entire loop or longer, just to get the message across. There was no way to know.
If I thought the game was hell before…
Internally, she cursed herself for her idiocy. She really had underestimated her worst case scenarios, and now? She was paying for it, big time.
With a silent sigh, she tried to wrestle her thoughts away from the pit once again. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help, but there wasn't much else she could do as of late. Without being able to distract herself or even work on her usual daily tasks, Kaitlyn found her mind constantly oscillating between thoughts about the game and fears about her future—or lack thereof. She felt like a powder keg of emotions and building tension, one without a fuse.
If nothing else, though, her situation gave her plenty of time to reflect on the last reset and all of its implications. And boy were there a lot of them.
The fact that the game had some many backups and avenues to reboot with was one thing. The idea of losing her progress from getting a "previous game state" reloaded was enough to freak her out already. But being able to fix itself? That was simply unfair.
Those factors, combined with her current situation, all but demolished any further plans she might've had to continue hacking the game. The risks simply weren't worth it, not when things had seemed so trivial to fix. But that was somehow the least notable thing she'd learned
The game had tried to log her out. That was an option. That meant there really, truly was a way out. However…
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
…I didn't meet the conditions.
What exactly those conditions were, she couldn't be completely certain. But the 12/18 it had displayed felt far too specific to just be coincidence.
It's gotta be the endings. There's no way it's anything else.
That single line of text confirmed something that she'd long suspected—that the endings were, in fact, the key to her escape. Only, it confirmed it in what might've been the worst possible way.
If it just needed me to get romance endings, then it might've displayed 3/5. Or 3/6, if I need to get the "Other" ending, too. But the fact that it was out of eighteen… Do I really have to get every ending?
She would have shuddered at the thought if it were possible. If that truly were the case, then it meant things would be a lot harder. She didn't just have to fall in love with all the guys. She would have to actually seek out every ending, including the bad ones.
Assuming I don't just trigger them by accident, of course. I've been pretty good at that so far. And I guess Elliot's and the "Other" one are the only ones I have left, so it's not as bad as it could be…
For a brief moment, the smug face of the Enforcer floated to the forefront of her mind. The image made her want to punch something.
Yeah, no. Still not thanking him. Not in a million years.
Still, despite having more concrete information about the path forward, it was hard to really appreciate it or take solace in the progress it entailed. Maybe later, once she was in a position to actually do something about it, she could celebrate. In the meantime, one more question plagued her.
Who the hell is the SysAdmin?
The very mention of some overseeing entity suggested that there was someone watching her, monitoring her progress through the game. Even if they weren't an active observer, then they clearly had a hand in holding her here. But who, and why?
Images of some shadowy puppetmaster operating behind the scenes filled her head. Whoever it was, they clearly weren't on her side. How could they be, if they'd essentially kidnapped her and trapped her in the game like this? But maybe, if she had a way to contact them…
Kaitlyn returned her attention to her paralyzed body. Again, not something I can do right now. But maybe once I'm free, then I can look into some way to communicate? It's too risky to get their attention like this again, but maybe there's another way…
It might not work. Those logs had been entirely impersonal, and it was impossible to tell whether the person behind them could even feel pity or compassion. She also didn't know if she even wanted to go down that path, considering where her attempts to touch the fabric of the game had gotten her this time.
…I could get some answers, maybe, but I could also just make things way worse. I have no idea.
Either way, one thing was certain—it wasn't something she'd be risking anytime soon.
As the days crawled by, she tried to focus on productive things like making plans for the future. Her efforts were met with various amounts of success. Some days, she managed to convince herself that she was simply resting and having a nice, long meditation session. Others, her growing restlessness made it impossible. The only way for her to mark the passing of the days was by the routine of the doctors and nurses coming in and out. Even that was hard to accurately keep track of while effectively blind, though.
After what felt like an age, something happened. A sharp pain in her toes, like the jabbing of pins and needles, woke her up from a dead sleep. What the… Oh, shoot. Is it finally happening?
Instantly, her mind jolted awake. The sensation slowly began to spread up to her feet and legs. It hurt, but despite that, nothing but absolute relief flooded through her.
Oh, YES. She sent out a silent prayer of thanks as she gratefully wiggled her toes. Finally. FINALLY. I won't be stuck in this hell forever…
It took a few minutes for the feeling to return to the rest of her body. As it did, she began to experimentally move each limb and muscle in turn. The last thing to regain feeling was her mouth and tongue. As the last of the pain receded, Kaitlyn finally opened her eyes.
The hospital room was dark, illuminated only by a single faint light above her bed. Its white glow spilled across the collection of various machines and tubes that circled her like concerned onlookers, their outlines casting ominous shadows creeping across the walls. Sterile white drapes partially obscured her view of the door and the room's other occupants, if there were any.
Carefully, she tried to sit up. Her entire body felt weak and stiff, to the point where even that small act felt like a herculean effort. But she didn't care. She could move.
Her vision began to blur. Moments later, the tears of relief that had pooled in her eyes began spilling down her cheeks in a quiet torrent of sobs. She curled into herself, pulling her knees to her chest and rocking slightly.
I'm ok. I'm going to be ok. It's over now.
Kaitlyn didn't know how long she sat there with the quiet humming of medical equipment as her only companion. But eventually, she mastered herself enough to straighten once more. With a deep, shuddering breath, she wiped her cheeks with the rough hospital blanket.
"Miss Kaitlyn?"
The unfamiliar voice brought her back to the present. Looking up revealed a new occupant in her room—a female nurse, wearing blue scrubs and a look of bewilderment on her face.
"Er…" Kaitlyn tried, wincing at the raspiness of her voice. "Hello. Nice to meet you?"