Mark sat in the silence of his room, the hum of his computer the only sound in the dark. He didn't feel like playing anything else that night.
Mark hovered his finger over the mouse. If he clicked, the figure—the manifestation of his guilt—would be "blamed," and the game would end. But as he looked into the mirrors in the game, he didn't see Thomas. He saw a digital reflection of himself, sitting in his darkened room, glowing under the light of the monitor.
The screen didn't go to a "Game Over" layout. Instead, the figure leaned into the camera, its waxen face filling the frame. "Good," it whispered. "Acceptance is the first step."