"I can't-" you say, shivering, dropping the knife. "I'm sorry, I can't-"

The dog pauses and nods, as if understanding, and the simulation vanishes in a puff of pixels.

"Amity," Emery says, nodding approvingly and lightly hitting your shoulder. "Good choice, Y/N. It suits you, you'd fit right in there."

You smile back at him, happiness bubbling up inside you. "Thank you for letting me try the serum. That was amazing."

Advance to 5.