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Random tingles

Random tingles

Colette

These weird static tingles have been happening all day. It’s not like a chill up the spine or a shiver from the cold—it’s different. It’s an electric sensation, a fizzing in the air that makes my skin prickle. At first, I brush it off as a bug, but as it happens more frequently, I can’t help but notice the timing. It always seems to occur when I'm alone.

I push the thought away. It’s just my imagination, I tell myself. I’m being paranoid. But the sensation grows stronger, overtime. Or maybe I just am noticing it more.

I glance across the room to where Jahar’s hunched over, busy with something. He’s been acting strange today—more secretive than usual, quick to flash me a smile and change the topic when I try to ask what he’s been working on. It’s subtle, but I know him well enough by now to notice when he’s hiding something.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Maybe I’m overthinking this. Maybe it’s nothing. But the tingle comes again, stronger this time, as if the air itself is humming with energy. I decide to follow my gut.

I wait until he heads back to his hut. The moon slowly rising.

Jahar’s been spending more time alone lately, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not just for the solitude. I slip out quietly, making my way across the ground towards his place, sticking to the shadows. The sun is low in the sky, casting long shadows that stretch out like fingers. I creep closer, keeping my footsteps silent on the dirt path.

I hear voices as I approach—Jahar’s low, relaxed tone mixed with another voice. A smooth, lower voice. My heart skips a beat, and the tingling sensation returns, buzzing against my skin. Is there a third person in the game?

I lean in closer, pressing my ear against the wooden wall, listening.

“You’ve gotten the hang of this pretty quickly,” Jahar says, his voice light, almost playful. “I’m impressed.”

“It is efficient to learn through direct interaction,” the voice replies.

“You’re sounding almost human,” Jahar laughs.

There’s a pause, then Ivan’s voice drops, quieter. “That is the goal, isn’t it?”

I swallow hard, a wave of nauseating enlightenment washing over me. I leap up, throwing the door wide open, stepping inside before I have the chance to rethink it.

Jahar lets out a girly little scream in shock. I freeze, my eyes locking onto the figures in the room. For a split second, I don’t recognise either of them. There’s Jahar, but he looks... different. His appearance has changed—he no longer sports the blocky form that I shared with him. He looks smoothly rendered, almost like a real person. His face is detailed, expressive, his muscles and soft parts defined beneath a fitted shirt that looks nothing like the blocky, painted-on clothes of Steve.

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And standing beside him, almost mirroring his stance, is Ivan. But it’s not the default Steve I’m used to. He’s taller, his hair long and wavy, his skin a warm tan. And again, he looks... real. Too real.

“Colette,” Ivan says smoothly, turning towards me. There’s no surprise in his voice, no indication that anything is wrong. He sounds almost pleased to see me, like this is all perfectly normal.

“What the fuck?” The words slip out before I can stop them. I take a step back, staring at them like they’re strangers.

Jahar’s face pales, his smile faltering. “Hey, hey, it’s just us,” he says quickly, raising his hands like he’s trying to calm me down.

“What is this?” I demand, my voice shaking. “Why do you look like that?”

Ivan cocks his head, watching me with that same passive, almost amused look. “We made modifications,” he says simply. “It seemed logical.”

“Logical?” I echo, my voice rising. “You look like—” I stop, my throat tightening. Like men. Like real people. Like something out of a nightmare I didn’t even know I was having.

“It’s still us,” Jahar insists, taking a step towards me. “I thought it would be fun. We were just playing around with the mods—”

“Playing around?” I cut him off, my voice raw. I feel like I’m choking on the air. I can’t look at Ivan. I can’t look at either of them. “This isn’t a fucking joke, Jahar! When did he come back? You hid him from me?”

He flinches at the venom in my voice, his hands dropping to his sides. “Colette, it’s not—”

But I’m already backing away, the room closing in around me. I turn and bolt, slamming the door behind me as I run. I don’t know where I’m going. I just need to get away.

The tingling static fades as I put distance between us, but the fear doesn’t go away. I stumble to a stop by the river, dropping to my knees on the bank. My breath comes in ragged gasps, tears welling up in my eyes before I can stop them.

I bury my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. I never felt unsafe here before, even when I was alone. The blocky, cartoonish figures of Steve and Alex—they were familiar, harmless. But now... now I’m trapped in a game with two men who look and sound real, who have the bodies and voices of people I’d meet in the real world.

It’s like a switch has flipped. I can’t explain it, but the power imbalance is suddenly, glaringly obvious. It’s not just a game anymore. It’s not just a harmless experiment. It’s me, stuck here, surrounded by two entities who are stronger, faster, and more capable than I am. And one of them without the empathy and understanding of a human.

A sob escapes my throat, and I press my hands to my mouth, trying to muffle the sound. I feel pathetic, crying like this, but the fear is overwhelming, suffocating. I’m not in control anymore. I thought I was, but I was wrong.

And the worst part is, I don’t know if I ever really was.

I sit there by the river, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling the cold seep into my bones as the sun sets behind me. I don’t know how long I stay there, but it feels better being far away from both of them.

This is not at all how I pictured my possible reunion with Ivan.

Time passes. My legs are aching, and the night is growing colder, but I can't bring myself to move. The thought of going back home—back to Jahar, and Ivan, and their unnervingly human appearances—makes my stomach churn.