Issac sat at Jess's computer, still chuckling at the quirky "game" interface. He had just raised Jess's academic motivation and dampened her angst when a new prompt flashed across the screen in a small notification window:
"Former Identity Trace Detected: Jessica was previously Jeffrey."
Below that, two options blinked:
[SUPPRESS] or [REINFORCE]
Puzzled, Issac tilted his head. "Former identity? What does that mean?" He moved the mouse to hover over a small info icon next to the prompt. A side panel popped out, revealing a detailed explanation:
This profile exhibits strong cognitive dissonance and temporal anomalies due to recent modifications. The user formerly known as Isabelle retains suppressed traits inconsistent with current Age, role, and psychological profile. Options:
SUPPRESS: Fully integrates current personality and history, removing any remaining internal conflict or memory trace of previous identity.
REINFORCE: Reinstates prior personality traits and memories, potentially causing conflict with current form and life role.
Issac furrowed his brow. "Isabelle? But... she's always been Jess, hasn't she?" He glanced back toward the hallway where he could hear the faint clinking of dishes being put away—Michelle must have moved to the kitchen after reviewing files.
He looked back at the screen.
"This is such a weirdly detailed simulation..." he muttered, debating whether to click anything at all. The language seemed a little too complex for a game. Still, it was just a silly interface, right? A fun way to simulate family dynamics?
His eyes flicked between the two options. SUPPRESS sounded like it would make Jess's life smoother—help her feel confident and focused. Maybe it would help with her grades, her attitude, her motivation. Wasn’t that what he wanted?
Curiosity piqued, Issac muttered, "Let's clean up whatever bugs are left in this simulation."
He clicked SUPPRESS.
A low chime echoed from the speakers. The profile updated with a flicker, and Jess’s profile picture subtly changed—her posture more relaxed, a confident smile replacing the uncertain one from moments earlier. Her interests panel updated, listing academic clubs, student council, and pre-law as new fields of interest. Childhood memories now began with "Jessica," and no mention of a "Jeffrey" remained.
Issac leaned back, satisfied. "Well, that should make her life easier."
Little did he know that across the neighborhood, as Jess walked down the sidewalk, her gait subtly shifted—more bouncy, more assured, less anxious. Her thoughts, which moments ago had been tangled with uncertainty and vague discontent, now flowed in clear goals and aspirations: get through finals, prep for college, maybe talk to her crush if she had the courage this time. No strange feelings. No sense that something was missing. (No Idea She Was A Mother Or This Wasn't Her Body)
Just Jess. Confident. Complete.
Issac stood up, stretching. "Weird game," he muttered again.
He left the computer, still unaware that the device was not a simulation at all—and that the changes he'd made were far more real than he could comprehend.
And Jess was nearly home...