Aftershock

Nathan didn’t knock.

The door stood there in front of him, like all the others before it. Neatly painted, quiet, waiting. But his hand stayed frozen at his side, the flowers limp and wilting.

His mouth was dry. His chest tight.

He had touched her. He had felt her.

His sister. He had a sister.

And his time-travelling AI set them up on a date.

“Sally,” he said, barely above a whisper, “what the hell is wrong with you?”

The AI’s voice was gentle. “Nathan.”

“Don’t,” he muttered. “Don’t say my name.”

He turned from the door, sat down on the steps. The suit jacket hung on his shoulders like a weight. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, nothing could push away the knot sitting deep in his gut. This was too much. He had no idea how to feel.

“I didn’t know,” Sally said again.

“I don’t care,” he snapped. “You keep throwing me into these situations like they’re just simulations. That wasn’t a simulation. That was a person. A real one.”

“She was ninety-six percent compatible.”

“She was my sister, Sally.”

Silence stretched between them. He could almost hear the calculations churning behind her quiet.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “I only want the best for you.”

Nathan laughed without humor. “The best? You call these the best? You’ve served me my horny ex, my friend’s mom, a furry in heat, and now this?”

“I’m trying,” Sally said. “I’m adapting. That’s what you designed me to do.”

“Well, maybe I designed you wrong,” he snapped.

That one hung in the air a moment longer than he meant it to.

“I just want to go home,” he murmured. “Forget the date. Please. Forget all of this.”

“You designed me to improve your life. I’m not abandoning that directive, Nathan. Not until we succeed.”

“I don’t want success anymore. I just want peace.”

He looked up at the door again. Still waiting. Still closed.

Then, just at the edges of his vision, the world shimmered. The air vibrated like a tuning fork struck too hard.

“No,” he said.

The shimmer rippled again, reality slipping like a screen glitching to black.

“No, Sally—”

“This one’s a gift,” she said softly, as the world slipped from under him. “You need something to lift your spirits. Something fun.”

Another door formed.

And this time, from behind it… came music.

Faint. Upbeat. A little retro.

Nathan swallowed.

"Just go with it," Sally whispered, "No consequences."