The Computer Terminal of Death

System: Have you ever loved something?

[Enter Name] . . .

>xxxxx<

xxxxx: Yes.

System: What was it?

xxxxx: Her. I remember her holding the railing outside. The soft rain.

System: Go on.

xxxxx: I was standing in the doorway. Her back was to me. I don't know if she knew I was watching her, but I loved it. There was something about her. I love her so much.

System: </searching/> That's exactly what we were looking for, xxxxx. Now. Do you see your screen?

xxxxx: Yes.

System: Do you see what's on it?

xxxxx: A file? In the middle there?

System: Precisely. Delete it.

xxxxx: Wh-what is it? Can I look at it?

System: If you wish. It is your wife, xxxxx. Her embodiment, her subconscious, everything you once knew about her is there. Delete it.

xxxxx: NO! I-I- can't do that!

System: You must xxxxx. Or risk perishing here for all eternity.

xxxxx: Where is here? Where am I?

System: There is no name given to it. Just think of it as the middle ground between life and death. One last stop, one last thing to clean up before death.

xxxxx: I'm...dead? But I...I.. this computer?? Just.. Wh-

System: The terminal is a simulation, xxxxx. You will have no memory of this or your wife ever again, if you simply have the will to leave and delete the file. Only then will everything cease, and you will rest in peace.

xxxxx: I can't let you do this.

System: It has already been done.

xxxxx: </omitted/>

System: No language here, xxxxx.

xxxxx: </omitted/></omitted/></omitted/></omitted/>

System: Tsk tsk. At least your wife was more willing to cooperate than you are.

xxxxx: SHE"S HERE??! WHERE IS SHE!?!?!

System: In a better place. She complied. She deleted something that she loved.

xxxxx:  ...no.

System: Yes.

xxxxx: No.. she would ne-

System: She has. You. She deleted you, xxxxx.

xxxxx: 

System: So, how about that file? Lovely day to lose someone dear to you. 

>file deleted<

>simulation end<