[She felt bad. She'd spent the entire game-- arguably months longer than her other friends had-- hoping and praying that she was doing it right, being terrified of becoming a doomed line, no matter how necessary it was. And here she was, praying to whatever cosmic entity that could possibly exist, that those weird versions of them were Doomed-- so that they could keep being the Alphas, so that they-- wouldn't end up like that.

She slumped a bit at that.]

If there's all these iterations of us, then... there's like some of us that screwed up and some of us that didn't. Maybe this is the chance we get to split from the wrong one...?

[Wishful thinking?]