Every choice spawned a phantom. If she chose the red dress, a gray-scale version chose the black one and got a promotion. If she sent a kind text, a ghost sent silence and watched a friendship crumble. If she stayed in her hometown, a dozen shimmering copies of herself lived in Tokyo, Berlin, a fishing village in Maine. They were all her. And they were all slightly more alive.
And for the first time, she chose the black dress. The last line of the mod’s readme appeared on screen, fading like a ghost: Girl Life Game Mods
So she discovered the mods.