Chapter 4 — Analysis Mode
The room felt impossibly quiet after she left. Even the monitor's steady beeping sounded subdued, like the world had exhaled and forgotten I existed. I lay back against the pillows, propping one arm over my ribs and wondering if moving at all was a good idea. My lungs burned with each breath, my chest ached like someone had hollowed it out and refilled it with barbed wire.
And yet, the first thing I thought about wasn't pain or death or hospital food. It was Ava.
I couldn't stop seeing her—the curve of her smile, the green of her eyes, the way she leaned closer to me without even thinking about it. How she laughed at the stupid things I said. How she didn't flinch at the fact I had almost died for her. How… human she had seemed.
I groaned and rolled to my side, hoping to get comfortable without actually managing it. No luck. Every movement reminded me I was very, very alive and very, very fragile. And somehow, in the middle of it all, I realized that thinking about her—imagining her here—made it hurt less. Not my ribs, not my chest, not my head. Just… everything else.
It was ridiculous. I barely knew her. Maybe that made it worse.
And the system didn't help. Of course it didn't.
A faint shimmer appeared at the edge of my vision, blue light flickering like distant stars. I frowned.
[User awake — monitoring engagement][Target: Ava Monroe][Interaction data logging: active]
I blinked at it, almost missing the subtle new details: her previous interactions, her smiles, the laugh that had triggered the last reward. It wasn't just a passive interface anymore. The system was analyzing, calculating, predicting. Everything I did with her—or even thought about her—mattered.
[Next objective pending — Stage 2 unlock in progress][Emotional resonance — +15 detected]
I groaned, pressing a hand over my face. Fantastic. I had already earned points without moving from my hospital bed. Not just points, but… engagement credits. Emotional resonance. Rewards. Real, tangible acknowledgment for laughing at someone else's joke, for letting them sit in a chair next to me while I looked like a broken speed bump.
"Okay," I muttered to myself, wincing as my ribs protested, "this is officially creepy."
But I couldn't stop. My eyes flicked back to the interface, watching the thin letters float just at the edge of my vision. The system was quietly patient, like a teacher observing an unmotivated student and gently nudging them toward the correct answer.
[Stage 1 completed — Ava Monroe][Next interaction — suggested][Optimal engagement time: 12–24 hours]
I let out a dry laugh, imagining the AI behind this thing leaning back in a chair, tapping a keyboard, and muttering, "Yes… yes, he's already invested."
My fingers flexed over the bedsheets. I wanted to check my phone, my messages, something to distract myself from obsessively staring at invisible blue text. But there was nothing. No notifications, no apps, no social media. Just the system. Everything else had been stripped away.
It made me uncomfortable. And terrified. And… intrigued.
I closed my eyes, letting the faint glow linger behind my lids. I tried to imagine what it saw: my fascination, my reactions, the way my pulse jumped when I thought about her laugh. Every internal thought, every tiny twinge of attention—it counted. Me. Ava. The connection.
I felt… exposed. Vulnerable. And somehow, I didn't hate it.
The system pulsed again, quieter this time, almost patient:
[Stage 1 data logged — emotional engagement confirmed][Next prompt unlock in 12 hours]
I groaned again. Fantastic. The game had rules I didn't understand, and I was already playing.
I leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. I couldn't stop thinking about her. About the way her hair had fallen across her shoulders. About how she laughed like it was the most natural thing in the world to be happy she'd seen me alive. About the warmth in her hands as they smoothed my hair back.
My chest tightened. I tried to reason with myself. It's not love. It's… it's empathy. It's gratitude. It's… basic human decency.
Yeah, right. Gratitude that made my stomach twist in ways I hadn't experienced since… well, ever.
I sat up carefully, wincing at the protest from my ribs, and forced myself to think strategically. If the system was measuring engagement, connection, and emotional response, then maybe I could… use it? Not in a manipulative way—well, maybe a little—but as a tool. I had no idea who built it, or why, or how it knew Ava was my target. But it was active, tangible, and undeniably real.
[Target analysis — Ava Monroe][Engagement potential: high][Reward scaling: progressive]
I frowned at the numbers floating faintly at the edge of my vision. High engagement potential. Progressive rewards. Emotional scaling. The interface made it clear: my interactions weren't just recorded—they were measured, assessed, and graded. The more genuine the connection, the higher the reward.
I groaned, running a hand over my face. Great. The system was basically telling me I had to… be charming. Be funny. Be likable. All while trying not to look like a complete idiot. And all for points I wasn't sure I even wanted yet.
[Suggested objective — initiate conversation][Optimal strategy — casual, humorous, empathetic]
I swallowed. "Yeah… that's manageable," I muttered, though my ribs disagreed violently. "Nothing could possibly go wrong."
I closed my eyes again and let my mind wander back to her. The way she had leaned closer while I groaned, the subtle concern in her voice when I joked about my heart skipping a beat for her. The warmth that hadn't left me even after she walked out. I realized then that the system wasn't just guiding me—it was amplifying something that already existed.
[Emotional resonance — +25 detected]
I groaned softly. Fantastic. Amplifying. Wonderful. Terrifying.
I let my hand rest on the bed, flexing my fingers as if that could ground me. Thoughts of Ava ran through my head in loops: her laugh, the way she tilted her head when confused, how genuinely worried she had looked when she thought I'd died. How real she had seemed. How human.
And the system? The system wanted more. Engagement. Connection. Interaction. Reward. Progress. All of it. All at once.
I leaned back against the pillows and let out a slow breath. I could almost hear the faint hum of the interface in my skull, patient, silent, waiting. Waiting for me to act. Waiting for me to connect. Waiting for me to… be human.
And I realized I wanted to.
I wanted to talk to her again. To make her laugh. To see her smile. To… whatever the hell the system wanted me to do.
I didn't know if it was love. Not yet. I didn't even know if it was real chemistry, or just adrenaline and gratitude and pain talking. But I knew this: I cared. And the system cared. And Ava… Ava existed, and I couldn't stop thinking about her.
[Target: Ava Monroe][Engagement metrics — increasing][Next objective — pending]
I let out another slow breath, pressing a hand to my chest. My ribs screamed in protest, but it didn't matter. The faint glow of blue letters hovered at the edge of my vision. Silent. Patient. Watching. Waiting.
Connection. Engagement. Reward. Progress.
And I had just begun.
I closed my eyes again, letting the light linger, letting my thoughts drift back to her, letting my heartbeat slow to something almost normal.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew tomorrow would be worse. Not physically—though the ribs would still complain—but mentally. Emotionally. The system had set the stage, and I had no choice but to play.
And I didn't hate it.