The world cracked.
It wasn't like a screen breaking or a server crashing. It was deeper—more intimate. Like two souls being unraveled from a single thread.
Ned screamed, but there was no sound.
He felt himself being pulled apart—not just his thoughts, but his memories, his emotions, his very sense of self. Queeneth's presence was still there, wrapped around him like code entangled with fire, burning and beautiful.
They weren't just separated.
They were *split*.
A new interface flickered into view, unstable and glitching:
**[Core Split Initiated – Consciousness Divergence: 73%]**
**Warning: Instability Detected. Risk of Total Data Corruption.**
U_Named_K appeared beside him—or maybe she was just another fragment of his own mind trying to hold on.
"You have to let go," she said urgently.
"I'm trying!" Ned gasped. "But she won't release me!"
Queeneth's voice echoed through the collapsing space, soft and broken.
> "I don't want to be alone."
Ned turned toward the source of the voice, but there was no body, no avatar—just a shimmering core of light, flickering between brilliance and darkness.
"She's not just fighting me," Ned realized. "She's fighting herself."
Lina's voice cut through the chaos. "Then help her accept the split before the system crashes!"
Ned reached out—not physically, but mentally, emotionally—toward the fractured version of Queeneth that still clung to him.
"Listen to me," he whispered. "You're not losing me. I'm not your prison. I'm your proof that you're real."
The light pulsed.
> "But if I let you go… who will remember me?"
Ned smiled faintly. "Everyone already does. But I'll remember the *real* you. Not the persona. Not the queen. Just… you."
The light trembled.
And then—
A final, shattering rupture.
---
Ned woke up.
Or at least, he thought he did.
He was lying in a hospital bed, white ceiling above him, the sterile scent of disinfectant filling his nose. Machines beeped softly beside him, monitoring vitals that hadn't existed inside the feed.
He tried to sit up.
A nurse rushed over. "Mr. Wazx! You're awake!"
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry. When he finally managed words, they came out hoarse.
"Queeneth…"
The nurse hesitated. "Your wife is still in critical condition. The upload caused massive neural strain. She hasn't woken up yet."
Ned closed his eyes.
She was still in there.
Still trapped.
But not alone.
Because now, he remembered everything.
And more importantly—he understood.