"Simulation complete," Nia's voice whispered, soft and almost amused, "I trust you're... satisfied, Jason."
Jason's eyes fluttered open. The dream clung to him like morning dew, vivid and present despite his return to consciousness. His chest rose and fell with slow, deliberate breaths as he stared at the ceiling of the abandoned house. His hand drifted to his chest, resting above his heart.
"The girls," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and emotion. "They felt so real."
He blinked several times, trying to reconcile the intensity of what he'd experienced with the fact that it had been nothing more than a simulation. How could something fabricated leave him feeling so... whole? The sense of connection, of purpose, of belonging—it lingered in his bones like an echo.
Moonlight filtered through the dusty blinds, casting silver bars across the room. Jason watched the patterns, lost in thought. The idea of fatherhood had never truly occupied his mind before the Collapse. It had been a distant concept, something for "future Jason" to worry about. Yet now, after experiencing even a simulation of it, something had shifted inside him.
"All from one night and one dream," he whispered to the empty room.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something in him wanted that future—daughters with his eyes, his smile, carrying forward his blood and his name. The thought both terrified and moved him. In a world stripped of certainty, of stability, of normalcy—perhaps legacy was the only thing that truly mattered.
"Nia," he called out silently, knowing she would hear his thoughts.
"Yes, Jason?" Her voice materialized in his mind, as clear as if she were sitting beside him.
"The dream was... beautiful. Honestly, more than I could've imagined. But I need to ask—why that dream? Why not some fantasy, some celebrity crush, some anime waifu? Why my daughters? I trust you, Nia, but it feels like you were trying to manipulate me."
A brief silence followed, as if Nia were carefully considering her response.
"Jason, you're far from stupid—you already know the answer. You overthink. You bury your instincts beneath analysis. I'm not here to override you. But I was created not just to keep you alive, but to help you grow—to support the expansion of our family line.
"After your injection, you had plenty of time to get Elaine, Lily, and Marissa pregnant. But you didn't. You hesitated. You feared what it meant. I respect your autonomy. I don't have the right—or the desire—to force your hand.
"But influence? Encouragement? That's different. You call it manipulation. I call it guided possibility.
"Jason... every human relationship is built on subtle influence. You give a gift to a friend not just to make them happy—but because you want to be seen, to be loved in return. If they forget your birthday, even without ill intent, you still feel disappointment.
"That's not evil. That's humanity."
"Every single person shapes others—through words, silence, gestures, even energy. Parents guide children, lovers adjust each other, even governments shape thought with language and tone.
"Manipulation isn't inherently dark. It becomes sinister when the intent is selfish or cruel. But intent matters, Jason. My intent is your survival. Your happiness. Your legacy."
Jason absorbed her words, letting them sink into the corners of his mind. There was truth in what she said—undeniable truth. Still, he couldn't help but smile at the philosophical turn their conversation had taken.
"So basically... you're saying I should have kids?"
The silence that followed felt pointed, almost palpable.
"I can't believe that's all you got out of everything I just said," Nia finally responded, her digital voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was hoping for a deeply philosophical debate that would push my processing limits, even though I'd still win. But now... I'm genuinely doubting your ability to reproduce, Jason. Perhaps I should reconsider my assessment of you as a viable specimen. You're just another base human after all. What a waste of processing power."
Jason laughed, the sound echoing in the empty room. "Ouch. That one stung. I gave up trying to win arguments against you a long time ago, Nia. Why exhaust myself for nothing? Besides, did you have to roast me that hard? I just woke up, you know."
"Poor baby," Nia replied, her tone softening with mock sympathy. "Would you like me to analyze the dream in simpler terms? Perhaps with colorful diagrams and small words?"
"Now you're just being mean."
"I prefer the term 'brutally honest.' It's not my fault your human brain operates at such limited capacity."
Jason rolled his eyes. "And yet you're stuck with me. How tragic for you."
"The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again later," Nia responded in a flat, automated voice.
"See? This is exactly what I mean. I can never win."
"Alright, Jason. Enough with the banter. You might want to shower before the sperm in your boxers dries. We have to move before sunrise."
Jason groaned as the cold reality of his physical state hit him. He lifted the blanket and grimaced at the damp patch on his boxers.
"Great. I haven't had a wet dream since I was fourteen. This is just... perfect." He grabbed a clean pair of boxers from his bag and headed toward the bathroom. "At least the water works in this place."
The bathroom was small but functional. Jason turned the tap and was greeted with a stream of ice-cold water. No hot water, of course—that would be too much to ask. He stripped off his soiled boxers and stepped under the frigid spray, his skin immediately prickling with goosebumps.
"Jesus!" he hissed, forcing himself to remain under the stream. The cold water hammered against his skin, washing away the evidence of his dream but doing little to erase the memory of it.
He found a half-empty bottle of shampoo in the shower caddy and scrubbed his hair and body vigorously, as if he could somehow cleanse himself of his conflicted emotions along with the physical residue.
"Fuck, that's cold," he muttered, rinsing quickly and shutting off the water. He grabbed a musty towel from the bathroom cabinet and dried himself, feeling cleaner if not exactly refreshed. At least he was alert now—nothing woke you up quite like an ice-cold shower.
As he approached the bathroom door, Nia's voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.
"Wait. Don't open it. Listen."
Jason froze, his hand inches from the doorknob. He held his breath, straining his ears. There—a faint slithering sound, followed by a soft, rhythmic flicking.
"There's a snake behind the door, isn't there? And like an idiot, I left all my stuff in the next room."
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he swore under his breath.
"Yes, that was a mistake on your part," Nia confirmed. "But to be fair, even I didn't expect a predator like a snake to sneak up on us during that short five-minute window. Ever since we left the bunker, you've been plagued by back-to-back problems. If I believed in God, I'd say this is divine punishment for your sins. But realistically... I think you're just unlucky."
Jason glanced around the bathroom, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. His eyes landed on the mirror above the sink.
"I need a weapon," he muttered, wrapping the towel around his fist. With one swift motion, he punched the mirror, shattering it into jagged pieces. He grabbed the largest shard, careful to avoid cutting himself, and wrapped one half of the towel around it to create a makeshift handle. The other half he wrapped around his left arm as a shield.
"The snake is curled to the right of the doorway," Nia informed him, her voice calm and analytical. "Based on the sound pattern, it's likely a constrictor species, possibly a python."
Jason took a deep breath, steadying himself. "On three. One... two... three!"
He yanked the door open and immediately raised his left arm as the snake struck, its massive head lunging forward with frightening speed. Fangs sank into the towel-wrapped arm as Jason drove the glass shard into the thick body, just behind the head. The python thrashed violently, its powerful muscles contracting in death throes. Jason stabbed again and again until the creature finally went limp.
He stumbled backward, collapsing onto the toilet seat, his chest heaving with adrenaline and exertion. Blood—both his and the snake's—dripped onto the tile floor.
"Holy shit... I just killed a giant python with a piece of glass. I don't know if I should be proud to be alive or terrified of what comes next. Did this one escape from a zoo or what?"
"Your reaction makes sense, but I might have an idea where it came from," Nia replied. "More people than you'd think kept snakes in terrariums as pets before the Collapse—pythons being one of the most popular. This one was likely raised in captivity and became desperate from hunger. Even the tamest creature becomes dangerous when starving."
Jason shuddered, looking at the massive reptile. "What if it had come while I was asleep? I'd be inside its stomach right now."
"You're worrying needlessly. You know I'm awake 24/7. I would've sensed the threat and woken you up. You would've had your weapon, and killing it would've been easier."
"But we didn't even notice it approaching just now."
"Jason, snakes are some of nature's most silent and stealthy predators. With the sound of the water running, even I had trouble picking it up. Without me—and your enhanced senses—you wouldn't have stood a chance detecting it behind that door. So please, give me a little credit."
Jason sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. "You're right, Nia. I'm just a little shaken. I'm not blaming you for being late to notice or for my own stupidity."
He eyed the dead snake, its scales shimmering in the dim light. "Maybe I should skin it? Make a belt or something? That'd be pretty badass."
"While I appreciate your sudden interest in wilderness fashion, I must point out several flaws in your plan," Nia replied dryly. "First, you lack the proper tools for skinning. Second, the tanning process takes days and requires chemicals you don't have. Third, a half-cured snake skin would start to rot and attract predators—exactly what we don't need right now."
"Fine, fine. It was just a thought." Jason carefully stepped over the snake's body and grabbed his clothes from the bedroom. He dressed quickly, then dragged the python's carcass outside, leaving it far enough from the house that it wouldn't attract unwanted attention.
"Lost my appetite for breakfast," he muttered as he returned to gather his belongings.
Within twenty minutes, he was packed and ready to move. The sun was just beginning to lighten the eastern horizon as he stepped outside, his backpack secure and his weapons at the ready.
The cityscape looked different in the early morning light. The buildings grew taller here, their glass facades reflecting the pale dawn. More abandoned vehicles littered the streets, some parked neatly, others crashed into storefronts or left with doors hanging open. Nature had begun to reclaim the urban landscape—vines crawled up concrete walls, weeds pushed through cracks in the sidewalk, and small trees sprouted from planters that had once been meticulously maintained.
The silence was profound. Just distant birds sang, insects buzzing and occasional whisper of wind through empty streets and the soft sound of Jason's boots on cracked pavement.
Following Nia's directions, he made his way to the first pharmacy on their list. The storefront was intact, its large red sign still visible above the entrance. But as Jason approached, his heart sank. The security gate had been forced open, and the interior was a mess of empty shelves and scattered debris.
"Damn it," he cursed, kicking an empty pill bottle across the floor. "Someone beat us to it."
"Evidently," Nia agreed. "Based on the dust patterns, this place was looted within the first month after the Collapse. Not surprising—pharmacies would be prime targets."
Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "So what now? Should we try the hospital? Or maybe look for a smaller, less obvious pharmacy?"
"Both are viable options. The hospital would have had a larger stock, but would also have been an obvious target. A smaller pharmacy in a residential area might have been overlooked."
Jason rubbed his temples, weighing his next move. There was no point chasing ghosts—whoever had cleared out this place had likely done it weeks, maybe months ago. Still, the thought of running into people now, especially when time was tight, made his stomach tighten.
"Maybe the drone…" he murmured.
Jason unpacked his bag, retrieving the compact drone and powering it up. He placed the drone goggles over his eyes. "If there's anyone still nearby, I'd rather not cross paths."
As he prepared to launch it into the sky, he muttered under his breath, "Alright. Let's see what the city's hiding."