The Game - Chapter 9 – Player Two

I woke up on the couch.

Morning light filtered through the blinds. The TV was off. The console sat quietly beneath it, as ordinary and harmless as it had ever been. For a brief, dangerous moment, I thought it was over.

Then I tried to stand.

My body responded sluggishly, like inputs passing through lag. My reflection in the dark TV screen didn’t quite match my movements. It blinked when I didn’t.

I noticed something else, too—something missing. The constant fear, the tightness in my chest, the sense of urgency. They were gone, replaced by a calm I hadn’t felt in weeks.

On the coffee table lay the cartridge.

It had a label now.

A small white sticker, neatly applied.

MARK

A memory surfaced—one that wasn’t mine. Sitting in darkness. Watching through glass. Waiting for someone else to make choices.

I understood then.

I wasn’t the player anymore.

I was the save file.

The TV flickered to life behind me.

A title screen appeared, letters sharp and clean.

NEW GAME?

Somewhere deep inside, I felt myself screaming as a hand—my hand—reached for the controller.

Source: Some or all of the content was generated using an AI language model