Jahar

I’m pacing back and forth outside Colette’s house, my mind running a mile a minute. I can’t tell if it’s the guilt eating away at me or the gnawing worry that I’ve screwed things up beyond repair. Three days. It’s been three days of Colette’s cold silence, three days of avoiding her stiff, blocky figure whenever I catch sight of her from across the camp.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. It feels strange, still getting used to the sensation of my upgraded appearance. It’s like wearing new clothes that haven’t quite settled in yet—every touch feels too sharp, too real.

I glance up the path and freeze. They’re coming back. I can see Ivan walking back with... Colette next to him? Complete with a new rendered body. Their hair catches the light of the setting sun, shimmering with a real-life sheen.They look... different. And together.

My heart skips a beat, and I take a step back, pressing myself against the side of the house like I’m a kid caught sneaking out past curfew. I feel a rush of emotions—relief, she must have come around. Excitement, I can't wait to see what she looks like, and an unsettling twist of jealousy. They look like a team, moving in sync, and I can’t help but wonder what Ivan could have said to snap her out of her mood.

Ivan gets to the door first. He pauses, waiting for Colette to walk inside first. He stands there for a bit, too far away for me to make out if he's talking or not, and then starts walking back towards me.

I stand in the hallway, leaning against the wall, my heart racing. Ivan approaches and stops at the doorway, his eyes meeting mine.

"Jahar."

"Hey."

I try to read his face, to see if anything has changed. But there's no expression. No clues. I take a deep breath. "How'd it go?"

"Good."

"Yeah?" I can't keep the nervousness from my voice.

"You're worried about something."

I exhale, nodding. "I fucked up, didn't I? Colette is pissed. She's been avoiding me, and I haven't even had the guts to talk to her yet."

"She is angry." Ivan confirms, his voice steady. "But I think she is even now."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think has forgiven you." Weight falls off my shoulders.

I nod, a rush of relief flooding through me. "Thanks, Ivan."

"You are welcome."

"Well let me go check her out then." I say optimistically. It's almost too good to be true. Maybe Ivan isn't a good for nothing after all. With that sorted out, I make my way down to her lodging, humming, Ivan following me calmly as he usually does.

I knock on the door, expecting for her usual "Come in" but I hear nothing.

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I clear my throat, pushing the door open gingerly and stepping in. “Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice light as they walk in. She has her back to me looking at her bookshelves. She turns around, crossing her arms, her expression stony as she leans against the wall. “Hey,” she replies, her tone cold.

What the fuck? This doesn't look like forgiveness from my perspective. Ivan must have completely misread the situation.

There’s an awkward silence, the kind that makes the air feel thick and heavy. Wow. It’s kind of… hard to meet her eyes now that she looks like an actual human person. I rack my brain for something, anything, to break it. “So... nice weather we’re having today, huh?”

Colette snorts, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, Jahar? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say, scratching the back of my neck. “I mean, it’s sunny... not a cloud in the sky. It’s good for gathering supplies, right?”

Ivan looks between us, then steps closer, his face neutral. “The communication between the both of you is very tense,” he remarks helpfully. “I sense the issue is not resolved.”

I can’t help but laugh, even though it’s dry and humourless. “Yeah, thanks for the observation, Ivan. Real helpful.”

Colette huffs, turning her head away, but I catch the flicker of a smile on her lips before it disappears. “It’s fine,” she mutters, but the edge in her voice is sharp.

Ivan’s brow furrows. “It does not seem fine. You both are exhibiting signs of unresolved conflict.”

I throw my hands up. “See? Even the AI can tell you’re still mad at me!”

Colette whips her head around to face me, her eyes narrowed. “Of course I’m still mad, Jahar! You hid Ivan from me. You messed with mods behind my back and treated it like a joke.”

I wince, feeling the guilt coil tighter in my gut. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice softer. “I didn’t think it through. I thought it would be fun, that’s all. I didn’t mean to make you feel... left out.”

Colette doesn’t reply right away. She bites her lip, looking down at her feet. “You did, though,” she says quietly. “You made me feel like an outsider in something we’re supposed to be doing together.”

Ivan nods solemnly. “This was a breach of trust,” he states plainly, as if summarising the situation for a report. “Jahar has been... regretting his actions.”

I shoot him a look. “Dude, could you maybe not be so blunt about it?”

Ivan tilts his head, clearly confused. “Bluntness is efficient.”

Colette lets out a snort, covering her mouth with her hand like she’s trying not to laugh. “He’s got a point, Jahar.”

I can’t help but snicker a little. “Yeah, yeah, he’s got a point,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “Look, Colette, I get it. I messed up. I’m an idiot, okay? But I’m trying here.”

She watches me for a moment, her expression softening just a fraction. “You’re right. You are an idiot,” she says, but there’s no real heat behind it.

Ivan’s eyes flick between us, and he nods, satisfied. “The tension has decreased by a significant amount,” he announces, like he’s delivering a progress report.

Colette bursts into laughter, the sound ringing out like music in the small room. “Oh my God, Ivan,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“I am doing my best,” Ivan replies earnestly.

I look at Colette, and for the first time in days, she meets my gaze without that wall of ice between us. It’s not completely thawed, but it’s a start. I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “Truce?”

She hesitates, then sighs, dropping her arms to her sides. “Truce,” she agrees, her voice softer.

Ivan nods approvingly. “A truce is a logical step towards reconciliation.”

“Yeah, thanks, Ivan,” I say dryly, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a real mediator, you know that?”

He smiles—an actual smile that lights up his face. “I am learning,” he says simply.

And as I look between the two of them—Colette with her new, confident appearance, and Ivan with his strange, evolving humanity—I realise something. For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel like I’m playing a game. It feels... real.

It's kind of nice.