That night, Elian sat in his apartment, staring at the Exm code scrolling across his retinal display. The room was incredibly still. The rain outside had stopped, but he couldn't hear the wind anymore. The world was becoming a polished, sterile hallway.
Elian stood at the corner of 5th and Main, waiting for the signal to change. Beside him stood a woman with red hair, clutching a violin case. He recognized her. Clara. He had seen her at the coffee shop. He had tweaked a moment with her once—deleted a stumble so he wouldn't spill his drink on her. In the resulting reality, they had spoken. They had a date scheduled for Friday.
There was a single command line left. Reset: Origin.
She shook her head, a confused smile plastered on her face. "You must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't go to bistros. I don't date." She walked away, hurrying into the crowd, leaving Elian standing in the rain.
Recommends installing stripped-down drivers to remove telemetry and bloat.