On the 1,031st biological day after Su Yan's death, I shot through her lung with a photon gun in the simulator.
I didn't end the program. Instead, I grabbed her by the hair and slammed her beautiful face against the table.
Like a rutting beast, I mounted her roughly, hysterically, again and again.
That lovemaking lasted three days and three nights, ending only when the vital signs monitor blared a Level Three alarm and severed our bio-magnetic connection., Confession.
[A long, long road to winning back the heart of a darkened little psycho.]
Premise: Logic must be self-consistent, and love and hate must each come full circle.
