Amy dropped off his dinner and scuttled back to the front again, promising that she’d be back for a chat as soon as things got under control. Dylan wasn’t sure if that would actually happen, so he took his time with the meal. Mashi was small, lumpy pasta, vaguely shell-shaped and with a grooved texture. For this dish, it was, obviously, stir-fried in oil with mushrooms and vegetables. The finished product had a reddish color, soft texture, and a peppery heat that usually melted away the stresses of Dylan’s day. The carb-heavy dish was the perfect recovery for even the roughest day.

But he couldn’t concentrate on it. Like working through a favorite song, he felt a sense of emptiness and loss as the dish was half-finished and he hadn’t really felt like he properly tasted it. Even the beer couldn’t dull his mind enough to let him clear his thoughts. There was nothing wrong with it - the dish was as great as ever. His absolute favorite, perfectly executed as always. But he just wasn’t feeling it.

Immersive VR had often been described as “overrealistic” by critics. Sensations that were the focus of the simulation were rendered more vibrantly than anything you could experience in real life. The toolkit provided to the developers gave them the ability to directly affect the sense centers of the brain, and as such there was no way for colors, smells, or flavors to be dulled by distraction. Dylan couldn’t help but wonder if food he ate in the world of Rundan might taste even better than this. But then, wasn’t that bad? He tried to imagine spending five years in an artificially perfect world and then returning to a normal life. The real world would look dull and drab, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything properly, even if he did have a small fortune to help.

The doubts were outweighing everything else. The agreement was scary. The implications were scary. The risks were scary. Now, even everything going right was scary. Everything was steering him away from this.

But then why wouldn’t he just turn the offer down and walk away? Why was he still thinking about it? What was keeping him from putting this behind himself?

“Sorry about that,” Amy said, putting down a plate with three sesame balls - even though Dylan knew he was only going to get charged for one. “I’ve been trying to find a moment to ask you what’s wrong since you walked in, but-” she made a gesture that encompassed the entire restaurant. “Headache and all that.”

“I, um,” Dylan hesitated as Mae warning him about the NDA flashed in his mind. “I can’t say much specific about it. But the short version is: I’ve been given an opportunity.”

“Ah, big change?”

Dylan remembered his audiobook. He couldn’t help but think about how much different the ‘game’ world was from what the protagonist had ever experienced, even though they were a veteran at the game version. “Enormous.”

“But big opportunity?”

“The biggest.” Dylan didn’t even have to think about that. “But so are the risks. I could lose everything on this. Literally everything. But at the same time, I’m afraid of missing out on what might be the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Resistance to change is normal,” Amy said with a smile, “but giving in to that is just stagnation. You can’t let your fear drive you, but you can’t let it stop you, either. If you pass up on this opportunity, who knows when the next one will come?”

“It’s just so much,” Dylan said, “the changes are literally unthinkable. Indescribable.”

“So, you said you can’t tell me, so I’m going to guess this is a job offer somewhere far away.”

“Not really, but that’s not… Terribly far off.”

“So I’m imagining that you’re tempted to stay where you are just because of the change. You know what you’re doing, you know where you’re going,” she said as she gestured at the mostly-finished plate in front of him, “and you know what you’re eating. Everything is familiar. Comfortable.”

“Well, yeah,” Dylan said. “Its a bit bigger than that, but-”

“So stop thinking about if you can afford to take this chance,” Amy said, interrupting him, “think about if you can afford not to. Studies show that people regret the opportunities they missed more than the mistakes they made taking them.”

“I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

“Even if everything goes wrong, you won’t know if they would unless you take this jump,” Amy said, “you’d spend your whole life wondering what could have been. Turning this down would haunt you, I promise you that.”

“Yeah, but-”

Amy held up her left hand. There was an old scar across the back of her hand. Dylan was no doctor, but he could tell the wound had been deep, and he wondered that she could still move her fingers on that hand, with the damage that must have happened to her tendons. “Trust me. Even if you bet it all on black and lose everything and end up a waitress in your mom’s restaurant, you won’t regret it as much as you would if you let yourself stagnate.”

“What happened?” Dylan asked. He suddenly realized his connection with Amy was purely superficial, mostly just smiles, pleasantries, and maybe a little flirting. All from her side of the table. But he didn’t actually know her life. He had never even noticed the scar before.

“Take this chance,” Amy said, “and maybe I’ll tell you when you find yourself back here.” Her face flushed and she hid her hand behind her apron.

“I... “ Dylan hesitated.

“Plants never stop growing towards the sun, Mr. McIver,” Amy said. She picked up one of his extra sesame balls and shoved the whole thing in her mouth at once. A decidedly undignified act in contrast with her sagelike tone. “Be like a plant, my friend.” Her words were garbled by the mouthful of food. “Grow.”

Something in that advice - even delivered around a wad of sweet dough filled with red bean paste - cut through him.

She was right.

He was afraid of the change.

Deep down, he wanted to do this. More than wanted to. Needed to. All his fears were just complacency masquerading as logical thought. He was afraid that being just an accountant meant he was unable to make this sort of choice, but really, it was making this choice that would make him more than just an accountant. He could do this.

“If I take this chance, I won’t be back here for five years,” he said.

“I never thought I’d say this,” Amy said, “but I’ll be happy to not see you.” A sesame seed escaped onto her lower lip as she spoke.

“Thank you,” Dylan said, “I think you’re right.” He shook his head. “I’ve been overthinking this whole thing. Tricked myself into thinking I didn’t want what I wanted. You’ve been a big help.”

“Anything for a friend.” She turned to go, but hesitated. “Five years, you said?”

“Yeah. Five years from tomorrow, if it matters.”

She scurried back to his tableside and pulled out her pen, scribbling on a napkin. “When you get back, call me.” She shot him a grin, holding up her hand again with her pinky out. “Promise?”

“Anything for a friend.” Dylan said, hooking his pinky with hers. “You’ll owe me a story, won’t you?” He gave a pointed glance to the back of her hand.

Her hand darted back behind her apron again. She opened her mouth to speak - it looked like she was going to scold him - but there was a ring of the chime on the front door and she cursed, looking up at a party of five walking in. She fixed him with a little glare and rushed to the front to get back to work.

The next bite of fried mashi tasted like exactly what he’d been looking for when he’d decided to come here instead of going right home. The rest of the meal - and especially the extra sesame ball - calmed him down and made him feel more certain of himself. He even let the subject of the scar die down when she walked by his table again, though he swore he wouldn’t forget.

On his walk home, he pulled out his phone and entered Amy Hong’s number to his contacts. Once that was done, he texted Nakala.

I thought about it. I’m in. I’m going to call Mae and tell her to get me ready to go in the morning.

Nakala’s response was quick. YES. His phone buzzed again before he could even pull out Mae’s card. YES. THANK YOU. YES.

Dylan laughed, typing back quickly, I’d like to finish the boss from the last patch of Colossus before I have to cancel my sub for a 5 year hiatus. Want to give me one DPS I can count on in my PUG?

Don’t PUG. Logging in now. I’ll get the band back together for you. Nakala wrote back. We’ll give you a send-off worth remembering, even once you’re logged into Rundan.