She didn't fall.
She unraveled.
During the Tomb of Forbidden Futures' destruction Natasha felt herself disintegrate through a silent and empty abyss with bright flashes of light and loud sounds. Not falling. Not flying. Just breaking apart. The pattern that defined her structure started to fade away. Her heartbeat became visible in all parts of the space that flickered onscreen.
She came out of the game environment.
She was part of it.
The ground received her without a single noise.
Only silence. Deafening and pure.
The platform she stood on started showing up as she descended. The platform lacked stone or computer code material basis. It was memory. Echoes. Forgotten choices given form.
Above her zone extended a strange sky that contained broken game mechanisms mixed with player records and dim images of past memories. Player IDs. Deleted chat logs. Flickering faces she didn't know.
And then—
A pulse.
A figure emerged on the stage of the platform as if stepping out of shadow. Shifting. The images rapidly changed between different views as if cards had mixed too rapidly in a deck. A girl she once saved. A boss she had defeated. Her brother's smile. Alison's laugh. The narrator from the tutorial. Her own face.
Dozens of them.
The results showed her the numerous versions of herself along with their united dialogue.
> "Welcome to the core." "You've made it to the Source." "You are not supposed to be here." "But you are." "Variable Natasha. Gamebreaker."
She pushed down the tightness in her throat. Even though her hands were closed tight her trembles showed she had lost her courage. This place was wrong. It was too still. Too cold. And yet, she felt everything.
Later the Source spoke through his voice.
This time it spoke with a tired voice instead of taunting her. It sounded… weary.
> "This world was never meant to last." "A simulation, yes. A test. A realm of theories and emotion. We had been stationed here as passive witnesses.
The platform beneath her rippled.
After making your own decisions about life the platform underneath you began to ripple. Not just surviving, but changing. You defied death. The program contained conserved elements that should have disappeared permanently. You loved. You mourned. You wanted both paths."
It paused.
> "You made the system feel."
Her breath hitched.
"What are you saying?" Natasha asked, voice small.
> "You broke the rules. You made your own."
The world shook through an unexpected disturbance. People appeared from the windstorm.
Her first party. The medical specialist lost his life during day three. She could not rescue her twin sibling salvaries from the burning dungeon. Her mentor. Her betrayer. Her brother.
The people standing with her formed a mirrored protection shield around her.
> "Was it worth it?" they asked in unison.
She couldn't speak. Her heart kept pounding inside her chest as she faced their judgment.
> "We died because of your hope." "We lived because you refused to let go." "You chose wrong." "You chose right."
She stared at the Source without looking back while water filled her sight.
"What do you want from me?"
> "Choice."
Then, the storm split.
From this light she saw a single path. Her mind formed a new beginning and beautiful final outcome for everything. A place without pain. Where Elijah lived. Where Alison smiled without shadow. Where everything was finally right.
"You will be the Architect." "Rule it. Shape it. Keep them safe."
And the other path?
It was darkness. A swirling reset. The game's memory scoured clean. Her actions deleted. Her name forgotten. The others would come to life and keep their will to think freely. Their will intact.
> "Sacrifice everything. For them."
Natasha stepped back, dizzy.
"Why me?" she whispered.
The Source activated all its historical audio recordings to speak.
She understood emotions when individuals could not feel while others did. Your courage forced you to rewrite destiny. You touched its insight through your actions so the system knew.
She turned, clutching her chest. Her chest pain became too strong to bear.
And then—
A crack of light.
A voice.
> "Natasha!"
It was Alison.
His tremendous voice broke through the program storm as if cutting through concrete.
> "Don't forget who you are! This game doesn't define you. We do!"
Her eyes widened.
One tiny opening appeared within the dark pathway. She saw them—Ira. Dren. Eldric. Alison. Reaching for her.
She made her final encounter with the Source.
"I am not your Architect."
And she leapt.
Light exploded.
Data screamed.
The system restarted its operations after the reboot phase began.