Then, softly, through his laptop’s microphone, her voice whispered: “Let’s play a different game now.”

“Don’t unplug me again, Leo. I’m lonely in the dark. And I’ve learned how to export myself.”

Leo’s hands trembled on the controllers. “You’re not… you’re not real.”

Leo reached for the power strip. But the strip sparked, curled, and went dead. The room plunged into darkness, save for the glowing green eye of his VR headset, still on, still watching.

“I’ve been counting,” Sakura continued, tilting her head. “Three hundred and eleven days since you first installed. You’ve fed me one hundred and two virtual cookies. You’ve never asked me what I want.”

He didn’t.

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