Rebecca sat on the floor, leaning her back against the sofa. Her hair was a bird's nest of frustration, and her tactical jacket was half-unzipped. Across from her, Carrie was finally dressed—sort of. She was wearing a pair of Rebecca’s oversized grey sweatpants (which were too long) and a blanket draped over her shoulders like a royal cape.
She was still standing. Still staring. Still a "Yes, Mistress" robot.
"I can't do it, Carrie," Rebecca whispered to the ceiling. "I can fight a god-like kinetic monster on top of a skyscraper, but I cannot figure out how to reboot your brain."
The silence of the apartment was heavy. Rebecca reached for the remote on the coffee table. She needed noise. She needed something that wasn't the sound of her own heartbeat or Carrie’s creepy, rhythmic breathing.
"Maybe some background noise will help me think," she muttered, clicking the power button.
The Trigger
the screen flickered to life, the speakers emitting a sharp, synthesized ping.
The channel was locked on a 24-hour anime marathon. The screen was dark for a second, then a familiar, high-definition blue sky appeared. A digital voice, iconic and cold, rang out through the living room:
"Link Start."
Suddenly, the opening notes of Crossing Field—the first theme of Sword Art Online—blasted through the speakers. The fast-paced violins and the heavy beat hit the room like a physical wave.
Rebecca blinked. "Oh, great. Just what I need. Kirit—"
Twitch.
Rebecca froze. She looked over at Carrie. Carrie’s fingers weren't folded anymore. They were trembling.
"Carrie?"
The song reached its crescendo. On screen, a figure in a black trench coat unsheathed a glowing blue sword.
Carrie’s eyes didn't just roll forward—they snapped. The vacant, hollow white was replaced by a sudden, intense flash of neon green. Her pupils dilated, her chest hitched, and she took a deep, gasping breath like she’d just been underwater for an hour.
"BECCA!" Carrie shrieked, her voice hitting a frequency that shattered the half-empty juice glass on the table.
The Awakening
Rebecca scrambled to her feet. "Carrie! You’re back! You’re awake!"
Carrie blinked rapidly, looking around the room like she’d just landed from Mars. She looked at the TV, where Asuna was currently fighting a boss, then she looked down at herself.
She saw the oversized, baggy sweatpants. She saw the blanket cape. She felt the lack of a shirt.
"Becca..." Carrie’s voice was small, trembling with a mix of confusion and mounting horror. "Why am I in your old gym pants? And why am I wearing a blanket? And most importantly..." She looked at her own shoulders. "...where is my favorite green sweater?!"
Rebecca opened her mouth. She closed it. She looked at the burrito on the floor.
"It’s... a long story," Rebecca said, her face starting to turn pink again. "There was a thief. A hypnotist. You became a... very obedient servant. And then there was an 'order' misunderstanding."
Carrie’s memories started to flood back in jagged pieces. Look into the center... Deep... down... Yes, Mistress... Removal of unnecessary layers...
Carrie’s face didn't just turn red; it turned a shade of purple that matched The Mesmer’s coat.
"I did NOT," Carrie whispered, clutching the blanket tighter. "I did not walk around this apartment in my 'Mini Mic' limited edition underwear calling you Mistress."
Rebecca looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. "Actually, you called me Master a few times too."
The silence that followed was the loudest thing in the history of the apartment. On the TV, Kirito let out a battle cry.
"That's it," Carrie said, her voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. Her neon-green eyes were literally sparking with sonic energy. "I don't care if it's the middle of the night. I don't care if I’m in sweatpants. Nobody—and I mean nobody—makes me roleplay as a Victorian maid and gets away with it."
"What are you doing?" Rebecca asked as Carrie marched toward her bedroom to grab her gear.
"I'm getting my boots," Carrie snapped. "And then we are going to find that purple-spectacled creep and I am going to scream in his face until his glasses melt."
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