Is Anna alright?

Your vision blurs, panic seizing you. Your own heartbeat is a deafening roar in your ears, a surge of adrenaline making the floor feel unsteady.

No fucking way. It worked. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH SHIT, OH NO!!!!

You stare at Anna on the floor. Her once kind eyes now gaze at nothing. Her body is crumpled, like discarded clothes. You reach out and touch her; her skin is still warm, but it gives under your fingers, pliant and strange. She seems lifeless, yet she feels alive.

Then, a piercing ring cuts through the terror—the alarm you forgot to turn off. It yanks you back to reality. Beneath the sound, you hear the crunch of paper. You look down and see you've crushed the manual in your white-knuckled fist.

"Wait, maybe it can turn her back!" The hope is a **** shout in your mind.

You carefully smooth out the creased paper, your eyes scanning the text frantically. And there it is. A single line: the target can be reverted by shooting them again with the same settings. Just pull the trigger a second time, don't change a thing. Simple, right?

Your eyes dart across the floor, searching for the gun, but all you see is the deflated form of your aunt. Then you notice a strange bulge under her. The gun must be trapped underneath her.

The only way to get it is to move her. You slowly grab Anna by her loose skin, the sensation bizarre and deeply unsettling. Lifting her deflated torso, you finally see the gun and quickly snatch it from her empty embrace. You let go, and her skin slumps back onto the floor.

Relief that you can fix this thrills you, but as you aim the gun, you hesitate.