Incomplete.

"I... we feel... weird," she said with confusion. "We're not, um, all. We're not a, you know, the whole thing."

The man's brow creased. What did he do to them? "Ok, this is a really tricky part. I'm going to need everybody to be calm. Everyone here needs to remain calm."

He seemed trustworthy. He reminded them of ḿ̀͘ilov̷̀aǹý҉͢ from before the accident and he's talking, talking, Remain Calm, he tells her and her eyes snap back into focus and he's brushing her hair? What is he doing?

"What are you doing?" she asks. "What are you doing? What are you doing?"

He's kneeling next to her and she's speaking to him but he's not listening he's not listening, "Hey!" and he won't look and he's not listening "Hey!" he won't look "Hey! H-"

They awoke on her back on a bed. Someone else's bed. She sat up and a man was watching them carefully. They didn't feel bad about it.

"Hi there," the man said in a friendly tone. She thought he had more to say but he just stared at her.

"...hi?" she offered.

He seemed relieved at their response. Wait, did he do something to them? Something about being calm?

"My name is Robert. I am a debugger," he said slowly. She stared at him but he was waiting for a response.

"Hi, Robert," they said, giving him a small wave. It felt silly but they didn't know what to do. Robert once again seemed relieved. He hurriedly asked her a question. "Are you a debugger?"

This guy was really starting to seem familiar. "No, we don't even know what that is. You said you were one, right?"

He nodded as if pondering her response. After a moment, he sat down next to them and began to speak slowly and clearly.

"Ma'am, we are in the midst of a repair procedure. What has been fragmented is a being, a self. Someone had an uncaught error because they're used one-indexed arrays like they're writing fucking Smalltalk- you know, that's not really germane right now. The point is, this is the process of repairing a fractured, damaged ontology.

"Now, at some point in each of these proceedings, the poor shattered thing will be back together enough to realized that it's being repaired. The timing of this is very delicate - too early and you undermine your attempts to re-establish mental stability as the consciousness emerges. Too late and they think they're in the Matrix. The point is, I normally don't pull back the curtain at this stage but I've got a hunch that you'll do better hearing it earlier."

Who was the shattered thing? Was it... them? It? Her? None of them felt quite right. She felt like a jack-o-lantern, full of light but mostly hollow inside. Like all of her insides had been scooped out to make room for a tea candle. "I... you're talking about me. Me?"

The man smiled and nodded gently. Her, that was a thing. That was the thing she could hang all the other things on. Her.

"Now, we're rebuilding you bit by bit, dear. We started off with a couple of foundational bits. We linked your body to your mind and gave you a relational anchor - that is to say, you can now relate to other people as human. You might notice your mind suddenly grasping at pronouns - it's because you're starting to regain your knowledge of social cues. You may also notice for the first time that you're naked."

She hadn't. She looked down and a squeak sounded out. She was naked? But she wasn't embarra͜͞ she wasn't cold. She looked herself over. She was pret̀t̴̵̨y҉̢͡

he was holding helping her up to the couch and she was leaning but then he was standing-

"Ok," he said brusquely. "One step at a time. Let's get you back together."