There’s a certain kind of pain that failure brings. It’s not a sting- nothing sharp and fast. It’s a slow steady sinking, starting in your chest and weighing heavy in your belly. It’s crushing. And it’s somehow more painful than whatever the killing blow to Devorah actually was.

Henry seemed like the kind of guy who’d like to drag it out. Henry seemed like he was a lot of things, including smarter than he actually turned out to be. There was no way Dev’s murder would go unsolved in the investigation period. Anna would see to that, even if Henry found some kind of middle ground of intelligence and managed to make a decent puzzle for her.

Dev hoped it would be memorable enough. Hell, the fact that she was thinking? Proof enough that it was. Though it wasn’t her, not really.

There had been hope in the first few seconds. Maybe someone had found her in time, or that she had just passed out from the stress, or. Well, something. But that was about as long as it took for Dev to realize she didn’t exactly have a body. It felt like a body, this collection of nanobots programmed to the whims of the sophisticated AI unwillingly created from her neurological cues and downloaded at the moment of her death, but it was unchanging.

A body that could never grow or age. Could that even be considered human anymore?

She had the appearance of one, kind of. Based on what she could see, it looked pretty close to Dev as she had been in life. Same brown skin, if only a little more see through. The same sweater and skirt combo that had been assigned to her by whoever did costuming. Everything was the same. Aside from, you know, the giant gash in the middle of her stomach, blood frozen in an off-circle pattern on its soft surface.

Probably about as bloody as it was at the time of her death. Which meant it was that sharp and sudden pain in her belly that did her in. Thanks, Henry. At least it wasn’t as drawn out as he promised her death would be. Their game of cat and mouse was long and deadly. Obviously. Devorah could recall bits and pieces- running, panting, the rush of being caught. Most of it was still hazy, aside from the most important bit. That sharp, sharp sting and then... nothingness.

Death.

It’s not like Dev was surprised at the death, after all. She knew she was going to die the second she woke up in the game. All because of that stupid… That stupid?

Despite her mostly incorporeal form, a crushing pain worse than even guilt and failure and her death blow put together ravaged her temples. Dev clutched at her head, still somehow able to weave her hands through long, dark curls. Maybe because they were her own.

Almost instantly the pain abated. Likely because she wasn’t thinking about… What was she…

Aaaaand there was the pain again. Just as awful as before.

Time to become as detached as possible. Time to think of something else. Kittens. Uh, books. News. Anna.

Oh, Anna.

She was going to be pissed. The masochist inside Dev really hoped it was Anna buying some time with her. Anna was going to narrow her eyes, and drink three glasses of wine in her direction, and probably say something that would cut right to the core but it would be worth it, really. To know everything was worth it.

She couldn’t sit here and contemplate failing completely. Anna had to have made it out of the game.

So Dev waited. And waited a little more. Resolutely not thinking about whatever that stupid thing was and mostly succeeding, and resolutely not thinking about Anna and mostly failing.

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But it gave her time to feel around wherever she was. Not that there was much to see. It was some kind of long, thin storage container. When she pushed against its confines, the wall wouldn’t give. She couldn’t phase through either.

It was a bit weird. Dev thought they would have just booted her up and threw her at whoever ordered time with her. Probably not a sponsorship. They wouldn’t need her to think, and they usually didn’t want their influencers bloodied up. So it was probably some sponsor of the game, or a fan with deep pockets. Or, as Dev was hoping, someone with the deep pockets a popular survivor might have.

And Anna would be popular. There was no way she wouldn’t be. The way she took control of investigations, the way she shut down Markony- there had to be all kinds of compilations on the internet. Anna was so pretty, too. With her soft, light hair and sharp eyes. Feminine in a way Dev never cared to be, though Dev came from a time and place where that was much less important.

Yes, she would be popular. Dev just hoped she would be popular enough to be able to settle comfortably in-

Suddenly, there was a bright, flashing light. Then a holographic screen appeared in front of Devorah. In big words it said YOU HAVE TWENTY MINUTES TO COMPLETE THIS TRAINING EXERCISE.

And a tiny, cartoon version of Devorah popped up on screen. Well, mostly cartoon. The body was cartoon, with paler skin than Devorah had, and dressed in a plain little suit. Then there was its head. An oversized picture of Devorah’s face was balancing on top of the little suited body. The character waved merrily at her from the screen, but it was rather incongruous as mini-Devorah was not smiling. In fact, one eye was half closed, and her mouth was in the shape of an awkward grimace.

Guess that flash had been a photograph.

Another little figure walked on screen to generically cheery music, this one fully cartoon with a normal smile. “Hello there!” It said. “Welcome to your first day as an intern for Barracuda Media Corporation! We’re so excited to have you on board this boat to great content and adventure.”

Mini-Devorah did a little dance on screen. Confetti rained down.

Real Devorah just blinked. An internship? For a media corporation?

“Due to your lack of experience, you’ll be compensated with experience!” More confetti.

Devorah blinked. She had three degrees in higher education.

“Now, please follow along as little you goes through their first day at Barracuda. Along the way, you’ll learn about our core tenets and values. We here at Barracuda are so excited to have you along with us as we have fun and make history! Remember- we’re all a family here!”

Barracuda sounded familiar to Devorah, but she couldn’t place it. Meanwhile, mini-Devorah made her way to a cubicle. She said, “I can’t wait to learn about the core tenets of Barracuda! Thankfully there’s a handy acronym to help remember it.” When she sat down, touchscreens surrounded her.

Mini-Devorah put her hand on a touchscreen, and the screen in front of Devorah changed to reflect it.

The word KILL appeared in big letters. The letters then separated to form a horrible kind of acrostic poem:

KINDNESS COMES FIRST

INTEGRATE WITH THE SYSTEM

LOOKS ARE EVERYTHING

LOVE THE CONSUMER

As someone who had literally just been murdered, Devorah found the acronym very insensitive.

The screen within a screen narrowed again to show mini-Devorah at her desk. “Wow!” Mini-Devorah said, her voice deeply at odds with the photographed look of confusion on her face, “I’ll be sure to keep these in mind as I go about my day. Maybe you can help me make some choices?”

Devorah literally could not think of anything she wanted to do less. Aside from maybe being murdered again, or seeing Henry, her murderer.

Mini-Devorah, with her grimace and poorly fitted body, opened up a message on her screen. “Oops!” She said. “It looks like someone is saying mean things about Barracuda’s programming online. How should I respond?”

Three options popped up:

REPORT THEM TO THE ADMIN

RESPOND WITH KINDNESS, AND EXPRESS THAT YOU HOPE THAT THEY WILL ENJOY FUTURE PROGRAMMING

CUSS AT THEM AND TELL THEM TO GO KILL THEMSELVES

Devorah chose the second option. More confetti. Hurray.

“Great!” Mini-Devorah explained. “With one choice, you embodied three of our core values! You should be so proud of yourself!”

Then there was a pause. The music stopped. The screen flickered. And then everything went back to normal. “Lucky for you, you’ve already integrated into the system! We don’t even need to go over our second tenet.”

Already integrated? What did that- Oh. Right. Devorah was an AI. Of course she was already a part of the system.

The simulacrum of Devorah on screen kept talking. The music kept playing. Infographics flashed across the screen. But Devorah saw none of it. She was already out of her body, but it was as if she was buried even further. The world was moving on without Devorah, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Eventually, the twenty minutes of time came to an end. Devorah barely processed her mini-me and the cartoon managerial character coming back on screen, until they were joined by an entire team of others. Others who, just like Devorah, had hideous pictures attached to poorly fitted bodies- foreheads cropped out, chins lost to the ether, grimaces and smiles alike.

But they were familiar faces. Even through the fog, Devorah could perceive a few of them. Bell and Eugenia who were long dead. Feniks, who had been first to be murdered in the game. And Henry, scowling at nothing.

The cartoon manager spoke up, and finally, Devorah was able to listen. “We here at Barracuda are looking forward to your contributions! And remember! We’re all a family here!”

All the cartoon characters from mini-Devorah to the cutesy version of her murderer jumped in the air as more confetti rained down.

Then the screen disappeared. A loud creaking sound prevented Devorah from immediately falling prey to spiraling thoughts. There was another moment trapped in darkness, and then there it was. Light.