Morgana noticed it one afternoon. Sid had just finished walking laps around the living room when he winced, sat down, and reached for the bottle on instinct. She grabbed his wrist before he could open it.

"Sid, you already took one this morning."

"It’s fine, I just need one more. My knee’s killing me."

Her voice rose, sharper now.

"You said that yesterday too! And the day before that! You can’t keep doing this— it’s dangerous."

Sid looked at her, his expression hardening.

"You don’t get it, Morgana. This is the only thing that makes it stop. When I take it, it’s quiet. The pain, the noise in my head, all of it— it’s gone. For a while, I don’t feel like I’m falling anymore."

Her chest tightened at his words.

"But you can’t keep living like that. You’ll hurt yourself more."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

"I’m already hurt, Morgana. I just don’t want to remember it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room. Morgana slowly let go of his wrist, her eyes full of worry. She didn’t push further, but the fear stayed in her chest. Sid leaned back on the couch, staring at the bottle in his hand, the reflection of his tired eyes glinting off the label.

He told himself it was just for the pain— just until he could walk without feeling like he was breaking apart. But deep down, both of them knew it wasn’t only about his leg anymore. It was about everything he still couldn’t let go of.

Morgana’s patience finally snapped one quiet afternoon. Sid had taken more painkillers again— she saw the empty blister pack near his desk, the same one she had counted that morning. Her voice trembled when she spoke at first, but by the end, it turned cold and sharp.

"You said you were fine! You promised me you would not take more than two a day!"

Sid just sat there on the couch, staring down, unable to meet her eyes. His guilt pressed on him like weight.

"It helps me think. It’s not that bad. I just... need it to calm down sometimes."

Morgana exhaled hard, rubbing her forehead as frustration and worry mixed in her voice.

"I’m done talking right now."

She grabbed her laptop from her bag, sat by the small table, and slammed the lid open. With a quiet huff, she put on her headphones, hand gripping the mouse. The faint sound of clicking and gunfire filled the air. Morgana’s glare softened only a little as she focused on her screen, ignoring Sid completely. Sid watched her, confused, and talk after a moment.

"You... play that a lot. Every time you’re mad, I see you open that game."

Morgana didn’t look up.

"Yeah. When I hate everything, when I’m too pissed off or tired to deal with people, I dive into this dead world online. It’s the only place that doesn’t talk back."

He leaned a bit closer.

"What kind of game is it?"

Her tone lightened slightly as she explained, still clicking away.

"A post apocalyptic world. Everyone is gone, and you are the only one left. You just live your slow life, scavenging, building, smashing heads when something gets in your way. No rules. No pressure. Just silence and space to breathe."

Sid gave a small, guilty laugh.

"Sounds... kinda lonely."

"It’s supposed to be. That’s the point. You get to stop caring for anyone for a while. You just exist. Simple."

Her words hit him harder than he expected. She had been trying so hard to take care of him—cooking, cleaning, pushing him to recover and he had only made things harder. Seeing her retreat into a virtual wasteland because of him twisted his stomach with guilt.

"I’m sorry. You were just trying to help me, and I didn’t listen."

Morgana’s fingers slowed on the mouse but didn’t stop.

"You should be sorry. I hate watching you destroy yourself."

Sid nodded, then hesitated before speaking again.

"Maybe you could... show me how to play it? I’m getting bored with rehab anyway."

That got her attention. Morgana looked at him, surprised for a second, then the faintest smile tugged at her lips.

"You? Play this?"

"Why not? You said it helps you relax. Maybe it’ll help me too."

Her expression softened fully now, the anger finally melting away.

"Fine,"

She said, grinning as she slid the laptop closer to him.

"But don’t cry when I beat you to death with a frying pan in-game."

Sid laughed weakly. "

Deal."

The tension between them lifted. The room filled not with silence or worry but with the sound of keyboards, laughter, and the strange comfort of two broken people finding peace in a dead, digital world.

After a while, Sid sat in front of his computer, fingers resting awkwardly on the mouse The faint hum of the CPU filled the small apartment. His injured leg rested on a pillow beneath the desk while Morgana stood behind him, arms crossed, watching him play with a mix of patience and irritation.

"Why don’t you kill them, Sid? They’re dead. Zombies are dead,"

Morgana said, leaning forward slightly, her tone flat but teasing. Sid eyes fixed on the screen and replied quietly,

"I know... But look at them. They’re still wearing their clothes. That one was an office worker... that one’s a student. Before they became zombies, they had a life, a family, a dream..."

Morgana groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"Oh, come on! It’s just a game. None of this is real!"

Before Sid could respond, Morgana leaned closer, grabbed his hand that was still hesitating on the mouse, and guided it sharply. The gun fired in the game, the sound cracking through the speakers as the zombie’s head burst in pixels and smoke. Still holding his hand, she said firmly,

"There! That’s how you do it."

Sid blinked, slightly stunned, then muttered,

"You’re kinda violent, you know that?"

"It’s a zombie game, Sid. You’re supposed to shoot them in the head or smash their skulls. That’s the rule."