Kaitlyn's blood ran cold. For a long moment, she remained frozen to the spot, unable to do more than stare at the text displayed before her. It stared back, accusing and taunting and mocking all at the same time.

Holy crap.

Strangely, the first coherent thought that struck her was that the game had saved her a tiny bit of effort. The second, third, and fourth thoughts were decidedly less calm. Her actions had evidently earned her even more direct attention than she'd realized.

It didn't just fix the crash. It left me a message. A PERSONAL message. The SysAdmin is talking to me, specifically.

As short as it was, the tone and intent of the message was clear enough. It was a warning. They obviously knew what she'd done, seeing as they'd had to identify and fix the error. But this built on her theory that, whoever the SysAdmin was, they were more of a living entity that could understand her actual intent. It wasn't just an accident. She'd done this intentionally, and they knew it.

She bit her lip, eyes darting around the room with suspicion. Were they still watching? Could they see her now, as she read the message? Would they be able to hear her if she replied? Or had their attention only lasted so long as it took to implement that patch?

Maybe the whole "try and talk to the SysAdmin" idea isn't such a great one… I get the sense that whoever this is won't really be too sympathetic to me getting out of here. Not by cheating, at least.

The idea was quietly filed away in the back of her mind, next to a few other ill-advised game-breaking strategies that she hadn't needed to test. It was something to keep in mind, though. Maybe she'd think twice about cussing out the game aloud now.

Taking a shaky breath, she finally managed to tear her eyes away. The existence of the message, as unnerving as it was, just reinforced a conclusion that had been simmering in the back of her mind for quite some time now. If she wanted to escape the game, she'd need to do it the "right" way: by completing all eighteen endings.

The thought made her scowl.

Seriously? That can't be it. Her hands clenched the crisp white blankets at her sides as they balled into fists. After all this, I'm just supposed to… what? Just put my head down and behave? Pretend like nothing happened and keep playing by the rules? Yeah, right.

Spite flashed through her, along with a renewed urge to rebel. No. She couldn't simply give up like that and let the game win, especially not now. That would be as good as admitting that she was afraid, that it had successfully beaten her down. Only…

…Do I have another choice?

The anger receded, leaving a deep sense of exhaustion in its wake. Her trembling shoulders slumped. She was tired. The admission rankled, despite the fact that it was true. Even though it had only been a few loops, her quest for revenge had taken a lot more out of her than she cared to admit. And for what?

If you really think about it, I actually did it. I got my revenge. I crashed the game like I set out to do. And even then, it barely accomplished anything. All my efforts were just a slight inconvenience for some impassive code monkey to fix.

If I want to take the thing down completely, then it's going to take a lot more time. Time, energy, and pretty much single-minded focus. I'd be going up against someone with the programming experience to create a game this realistic and complex, which is already an even bigger stretch now that I've tried it once. Even then, it'll take me dozens of loops at minimum to devise a strategy that might really pull it off, if the game doesn't get wise and decide to preemptively punish me or something. And if I mess up again…

She shuddered. As much as she hated to admit it, the threat of being paralyzed like this again was a pretty effective one. Even the idea of having infinite time to recover and try again weren't enough to offset her uneasiness. Just having to live through being trapped in her own body again, but for even longer, could very well break her. And if she ended up having to do that repeatedly…

…I don't think I have that in me.

She could keep going down this path. It was certainly an option. But it wasn't a good one.

No. It's not good for me, or for anyone else. No matter how I look at it, it just doesn't make sense. I… I don't think I have the mental fortitude for it. And besides, even if things went well, what would it cost? I might just end up hurting myself by obsessing more than the game ever could.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

A long breath escaped her, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. With an effort, she tried to call to mind every reason she could think of to justify going for endings. The good she was doing for the other guys, the things she'd learned, the memories she'd made… It helped to take the sting off of her decision, somewhat. But despite her rationalizations, she couldn't help the small lump of bitterness that persisted in her throat.

It'll be ok. I'm almost there, anyway. Only six endings left.

The thought was a glimmer of hope in what had otherwise been an awful situation. There was a way out. Finally, she had some sort of confirmation that an escape did exist. What would happen afterwards was anyone's guess, but at this point, she didn't care. She clung to the hope like a lifeline.

Assuming she was correct, there were still two romance endings, one friend ending, and one bad endings for her to earn, as well as two "Other" endings. That was entirely doable. The fact that those last endings weren't even attached to male leads even gave her some hope. Maybe they wouldn't be nearly as heart-wrenching or difficult to achieve.

Maybe I'll even get lucky and keep stumbling into the bad endings on accident. That would save me a lot of trouble.

It felt strange to hope for, especially considering how nasty some of their consequences had been so far. Still, now that she knew they were required, it wasn't like she had much choice. Unintentionally triggering the bad endings would still be far better than diving into the moral baggage associated with actively pursuing them.

I do wonder what the "Other" romance ending is, though. That's probably the biggest question mark in all of this. Maybe it's a harem ending? She shuddered. It better not be. If that's the case, I'm never getting out of here. Absolutely not, game. There are some lines I'm not gonna cross for you.

Shaking her head, Kaitlyn looked toward the hospital room window. The telltale glow of morning light had just begun to seep in between the cracks of the hanging blinds, illuminating the room in a slowly brightening glow.

Almost morning, I guess. Does that mean the doctor will be here soon? The nurse said it would be a few hours…

Kaitlyn still had no idea if she would be sent home or kept here for longer. It was anyone's guess how Heartthrob University's hospital worked. The only time she'd even been here was to get Vinny's broken hand fixed, and she hadn't exactly been sober at that point.

Well, might as well assume the best. I guess I can start ordering my usual start-of-loop equipment and have it sent to the dorms. That might save me some time. Oh, I should also message Heather. She might appreciate knowing that I'm not actually dead…

With that, she pulled out her phone once again and got to work.

***

"Kaitlyn? May I come in?"

Kaitlyn looked up from her tray of second breakfast toward the unfamiliar voice. A tall silhouette stood just behind the curtain surrounding her hospital bed, making it impossible to make out any details. However, the voice clearly sounded female.

Probably the doctor, if I had to guess. Awesome.

It had been longer than the few hours the nurse had indicated, but that was understandable. Doctors seemed like busy people, and Kaitlyn could imagine any number of emergencies or more pressing matters that might have delayed the woman's arrival. Besides, it wasn't like she'd been hurting for attention, with all of the other medical professionals bustling about.

She tried to swallow, then thought better of it. There were far too many peas and carrots in her mouth for that to be a good idea, though she could think of far worse places to choke. Instead, she managed a muffled "Mmm-hmm!" and chewed frantically to finish her latest bite.

The curtain shifted to one side, revealing the newcomer as she approached.

A tall, willowy woman stepped past it, a pristine white lab coat hugging her figure like a well-tailored suit. Fiery red hair spilled down her back in long ringlets, framing light blue eyes and pink lips. Her features were sharp and beautifully outlined in a way that only the most adept use of makeup could accomplish. Overall, Kaitlyn couldn't help but think that she looked more like a supermodel than an actual doctor.

Maybe she is. I mean, she probably could be. That feels super unfair to be able to do both, but since when has the game cared about fairness?

The woman looked down at the half-eaten tray sitting in front of Kaitlyn. "Ah, my apologies. I didn't realize you were still eating."

"Mmph!" Kaitlyn forced herself to swallow, then covered her mouth as she tried to speak. "It's ok! Sorry."

The woman chuckled. "No problem at all. I'd imagine you're quite hungry after all that. Feeding tubes are useful, but not quite the same as actually eating, from what I hear."

She stepped further into the room, pulling up a chair near the bed and settling into it with a small sigh. Kaitlyn noticed that she wore a pair of comfortable sneakers as she crossed one leg over the other, the choice seeming a bit out of place initially.

Well, out of place for a model. Good sneakers are an absolute must in lab. I can't imagine things are any different in a hospital.

Kaitlyn noticed the badge at the woman's lapel, then did a double-take. The picture clearly depicted the woman before her and confirmed she was a doctor. But the name…

"Ah, looks like I still need to work on my bedside manner." The doctor smiled warmly. "I'm Dr. Ambrose. It's nice to finally meet you, Kaitlyn."