“You can’t be here.” Kenta swept a fearful glance across the fields. “If the guards see you... This isn’t a game. If they see us in the fields before before our shift starts, they’ll kill us.” Motioning for them to follow, he took off down the row of tomatoes at a ragged jog.

“Maybe we should just keep going,” Alf suggested. He reached up and clasped Blix’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Let’s follow him for now. At least he knows the situation.”

Alf’s shoulders rose and fell in a silent sigh, but he ran after Kento, catching up to the NPC before he was halfway down the row. They followed him through a thin strip of trees dividing two fields. After five minutes of alternately jogging and walking, they reached a barn-like structure built with sun-bleached, unpainted wood.

“This is…” The leaned on his knees to catch his breath. “Barracks. We live here. The guards don’t go inside.”

“How many guards are there?” Alf asked.

“The first few days there were hundreds. They…” He shuddered and shook his head vigorously. “A few days ago they got called away. Some kind of big emergency. Now there’s just two—and even they aren’t around that much.” He led them around the barracks, stopping every few steps like he was listening for sounds of pursuit.

“How many people stay here?” Blix asked during one of the pauses. “Here in the barracks.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Around fifty or sixty?”

“Have any of you tried to escape?” Alf asked.

“I did, first night.” He looked back to receive an encouraging smile from Blix. “A big group of us. But there’s a forest were Oakland used to be. Full of wild animals. Some of them were…” He shook his head. “I barely made it back alive. Me and nine others. The rest…” He looked back at Blix again, his eyes straying to her legs and arm.

She nodded encouragingly, but he darted ahead to the corner of the building and peeked around the corner. “It looks clear, but if anyone spots us, just run inside and try to hide in the back. “Okay… Go!”

They followed him around the corner and through a barn-style doorway large enough to accommodate a pair of elephants. The unlit room was filled with row upon row of empty bunk beds. A thick layer of straw covered the hard-packed dirt. It smelled surprisingly… not terrible.

They followed Kenta to the back of the barn where a large group of people was sitting on the floor, talking in hushed tones.

“I brought some new recruits,” Kenta announced as people started shushing each other. “They’re like us. Normal.”

“How do you know they aren’t spies?” A big guy with graying hair moved to block their way. “They look like guards to me.” He eyed Alf’s sword.

“We’re humans,” Blix said before Alf could reply. “Ask us anything you want. Something an alien wouldn’t know.”

“Aliens,” the guy snorted. “That’s one theory. One of the stupider ones.”

“But it’s true,” Alf cut in. “Aliens couldn’t come themselves because of special relativity. But they were able to send information—enough to get us to create the nanites they’re using to control everything.”

“Alright, Einstein.” The guy stepped menacingly into Alf’s space. “Why’d they do it then? Why all the swords and monsters? If the nano-dust can grow all the food they need, why do they need us?”

“Because this is just a game to them.” Blix stared him down, refusing even to blink. “The aliens are spoiled rotten children, and they’re bored. They’ve turned the Bay Area into a role-playing game. The rest of the world has been divided into other games—all for the aliens’ amusement.”

Jeering laughter filled the room.

“It’s ridiculous. I get it,” Blix said. “I don’t care if you believe us or not. Say the word, and we’ll leave you alone.”

The big guy’s eyes drifted to Alf’s sword. He seemed to be trying to make up his mind.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Blix said. “You know all those soldiers who were called away a couple of days ago? Alf is the reason why.”

“Actually, it was more Blix than me….”

Blix thumped his chest, cutting him off. “So do you want to work with us or not?” she asked. “Your call.”

“We’re not agreeing to anything until we know what you want.” The guy looked back at the group and received a scattering of nods.

“We want—” Blix started, but Alf cut her off.

“We’re trying to find eight gamers,” he said. “People who are experts at RPGs. We have some player characters we need to level up.”

Blix grinned. She hadn’t thought of that angle, but she liked where he was going with it. She snagged his hand and gave it a heartfelt double squeeze. “Each gamer gets to control his own player. You handle the strategy, the character handles the fighting.”