Bread strained his eyes towards the top. It was the same building Coach had previously warned him about—a discombobulated mess of a skyscraper, spiraling up in chaotic swirls.

Simular. Or more precisely, the company’s main office complex.

As he entered, he noticed how empty the place was. There was an elevator in the back and screen flashing through different panels of Simular’s attractions, but otherwise, there was nothing else. While he was looking around, a robotic voice answered from above, “Please enter the designated information at the kiosk. No visitors are accepted at this time.”

The screen flashed, beckoning him forth. Bread stepped closer and reached out. As soon as his fingers made contact, the digital background blurred. His arms tingled and sparked as information flooded through his mind, but all he did was focus his mind on one thing—

The elevator door.

With an electronic ding, the door slid open. Bread entered without hesitation, and as it closed shut, his mind finally started to race.

Why am I here?

Music started playing, numbers climbed as the entire structure started to move. It was only a matter of seconds before he’d see Dad, but he couldn’t come to a conclusion. Why was he really here? What would he even say to Dad? That he was back? That he was finally ready to be reset? Was it really the right move to leave Val behind?

He was having second thoughts. Why? He’d come to a conclusion before; that was why he was here. Why was he so afraid now?

The elevator door finally opened, and a glass corridor greeted his eyes. All he saw were windows upon windows of clouds. For just a moment, he forgot about his thoughts. Watching the sky reminded him of what he’d always wanted before.

A bird.

He wanted to be a bird. He wanted to fly, watch the world from above. He wanted to soar besides the warmth of the sun. He wanted to be like Val in the ring—

Free.

But the feeling dissipated. He was back in the real world again, staring the glass corridor down. On the other end, it opened up into an office. He saw a desk and a figure—a man—in the distance. The way the figure moved was weirdly familiar.

Bread made his way closer, and eventually, he was right outside the doorsteps. A see-through panel was the only thing separating him from the man on the other side. It didn’t look like Dad, but he entered anyway.

“You came back?” The man stood from behind his desk, almost looking like he’d seen a ghost. The voice sent shivers down his spine; Bread knew that voice. He’d heard it before. “You came back! Why did you come back? Imbecile! I let you go because of Gunther! You were free!”

Azan. Bread knew in an instant. How did the man already know who he was? He was sure his appearance was different from when he were in Simular.

“What’re you staring at?” Azan leaned over his desk. His bright, red suit fought against the colors of the sky. “I know everything. Probably here for Gunther, yeah?”

Gunther… There was only one person who this Gunther could be. Bread just knew from the way Azan spoke of him.

“Oh, I know that look. You didn’t even know his name, did you? And you had the audacity to call him your dad? The great Creator?” The man laughed in an almost mocking tone. There was sharpness to his words that made Bread flinch. “A mere dad!”

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“Where’s Dad?” He wouldn’t let Azan stop him. He was here for a reason. He was here to see Dad, to talk to him. He needed to know.

“I’m telling you he’s not here. Can’t you figure that out by now?” The man shook his head. “What kind of AI can’t even figure that out? Leave. Now. You’re not welcome here. Gunther will never see you.”

But Bread stood firm. The man was lying. At least Bread hoped he was. He came all this way for Dad. He wouldn’t leave at least without seeing him.

“You’re so—argh! You’re so stubborn! Why do you both frustrate me to no end? What gives you the right?” Azan suddenly pulled off one of his cybernetic fingers and aggressively twirled it around his hand. “I’m a valuable part of this company too, so why can’t any of you just let me do my job? Why get in my way?”

“I just want—”

“Do you see that?” He pointed out the window with his popped-out finger. “That beautifully outstretched city below?”

All he saw were clouds. They were way too high up to see anything else.

“Simular was supposed to be the centerpiece, the epitome of grandeur.” the man said. His voice slowly grew louder and louder. “It was supposed to be a lighthouse for the weary, a merry-go-round of never-ending excitement, an all-encompassing beacon of freedom and hope! It was supposed to be grand. All of this was supposed to be grand. That city down below—Novus Lokris. That was supposed to be our beginning—me and Gunther!” Azan pointed his dislodged finger at him. “But why, oh, why is he so invested in you? What’s so special about you?”

“I just…” Bread was starting to feel that familiar feeling—goosebumps. He didn’t actually have the skin for that, but it was just a feeling. That uncomfortable pressure of danger. “I just want to speak to Dad.”

“I don’t care what you want.” Azan leaned back into his chair, legs crossed, swinging high above his desk. “Just get out of my sight.”

“No.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t go back. He had made a choice for himself for the first time. He had to stick to it. “I need to talk to Dad.”

“And I need you to get the hell out!”

“I won’t.”

The man stood up, dislodged finger pointed at his chest threateningly. That feeling of danger crept back up Bread’s neck. “Why do I have to clean up after Gunther every single time?”

There was something about the man’s tone, however, that was confusing to Bread. Even though he seemed mad, it almost felt like there was still hope lingering in Azan’s eyes.

There was a long pause between them. Like they were having an unplanned staring contest. But then the man sighed. It was unexpected. “Look, even if I wanted to tell you, I don’t know where he is.” He lowered the finger. With it, the aggression in his voice also left. “Last chance. Leave. There’s nothing for you here.”

The man almost looked sad. Bread could kind of tell. He was suddenly curious. “Why do you hate me?”

“Why do I… hate you?” Azan’s nose crinkled; his brows furrowed. His face reddened like a ripe tomato. “You serious? You don’t know why? You get in my way, you ask stupid fucking questions, and you still don’t know why? You’re—no, I’m done. Take the fucking elevator down.”

“But—”

The man again raised the weaponized finger. There were no words to be exchanged for Bread to know what this gesture meant. Something about it rang alarm bells in his mind.

But hadn’t he come this far ready to lose his memories? Hadn’t he already made his decision? He was done running. He didn’t have to be real; he didn’t need to be free. There was nowhere for him to return to anyway. At least to Dad, he knew that he was worth something. He still had value.

He didn’t want to be Beady anymore. He hoped he wasn’t just an experiment. He wanted to be…

Me.

He was Bread. Not an experiment, not Beady. He wasn’t some thief or an AI. He was none of these things. He was Bread. And he wanted to know…

“I need to talk to Dad,” Bread replied with renewed confidence. “Dad has the answers I need.”

“Shut up!” Azan slammed his hands on the desk. “Dad this, dad that. He’s not your dad! He’s the Creator! He’s not some—some ordinary parent! I helped him build everything up from the bottom. I placed everything on him, but you just had to pollute my plans with all this pretend family nonsense! Just leave!”

“No.” He wouldn’t break. He wasn’t backing out now. “I need to see him.”

“No?” Azan started massaging his temples. “You know what? That’s fine. I’ve had enough.” He raised the finger again. The metallic digit glinted golden under the sunlight. Then the man aimed the tip at Bread’s chest. “I should honestly be patting myself on the back for being so patient with you.”

“What—”

There was a click. And a flash of light that blinded Bread’s eyes. Something high-pitched sounded from the tip, and suddenly—

Glass. Everywhere.