28

A Momentary Goodbye

As evening approached, Rian and Kat took a break and rested in the grass, letting the PVP instance dissolve. Though neither of them were actually winded due to the stamina system, it was nice to have a moment to reflect over their matches. Rian hadn’t gained another level since their last break, as Kat had mostly spent the hours drilling him on how to use Parry, but he was decently some ways into level 15, and there were plenty of points to spend. Rian divvied up his AP into DEX, Strength, and even a little bit of INT.

All at once, the difference of 10 points was enough for him to feel the change on a scale he wasn’t expecting. His muscles bulged slightly, and a borderline-euphoria swept through his body. Everything became slightly sharper, too, thanks to the rise in the Intelligence stat.

Though Kat’s PVP ranking was still in Silver, Rian’s had shot up from Iron to Bronze without him even noticing until now, as the achievement notifications had silently passed him by during their matches. He was in the top ten million players already, which simultaneously sounded like a huge achievement and nothing at all. When he brought it up to Kat, it hurt his pride to find out that Mirage counted players across all servers for the PVP ranking—including non-adventuring players, who didn’t even bother with the combat side of the game.

Being in the top 50% of players really meant he was just getting started. Still, considering it was his first day in the game, it seemed like decent progress to see that he’d leapt over half the player-base.

In the distance, Visha was curled up in the sun. Corvis, with one elbow propped upon the ground, was napping as well.

As they looked out over the forests, Kat and Rian moved into half-sync to restore their in-game timer.

For Rian, nothing had changed in his mom’s living room, but he found that the holographic image of it didn’t extend as far when someone else was in half-sync nearby. The image of the living room ended at a boundary—where Kat’s room apparently began, though it was invisible to him.

“I’m gonna idle for a second,” she said, “hold on.”

The image of her froze in place. Rian waited, but nothing was happening. “What the hell’s she doing?” he whispered to himself.

“If I had to guess,” Corvis said from afar, taking Rian by surprise, “she’s using the bathroom.”

Rian looked over his shoulder at him. He nearly said it aloud, but he kept it to a strained whisper, in case Kat was listening: “How the hell can you hear me from here?”

“I can hear just about everything nearby whether I like it or not,” Corvis said, still resting in the grass and with eyes closed. “Are human senses really that pathetic?”

Visha perked up as if she’d heard something, then resumed her nap.

Rian sighed, turning away.

He’d almost forgotten that things like this weren’t going to affect him anymore. The thought of not ever having to relieve himself again wasn’t all that distressing, but it was the lack of it—the need—that bugged him. It was only adding to his sense of wrongness about himself. It was as if certain aspects of his body were locked in time, unchanging. But his mind was still moving forward, unaware but steadily beginning to realize that things had changed forever.

Time had essentially stopped for him, but in exchange it felt as if something else was eroding away. Pieces of habit. Of identity. In a way, it felt as if he’d become less human, somehow.

Not being able to take a piss was probably the strangest thing to have an existential crisis over, but he couldn’t deny the feeling.

When Kat came back—her image suddenly flickering from one position to another—it was as if she’d teleported from sitting to standing. She sat down again beside him.

“Well, I think you really do have talent, Cob,” she said. “You said you were a speedrunner, right?”

He glanced off, trying to let go of his line of thought. “I’ve spent quite a bit of my life playing Shadow Spirits. For better or worse.”

“Nice community around that game, I’m guessing. Shadow Spirits.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Real supportive. Kind of ironic, for how brutal the game is.”

Kat found a small rock on the ground beside her, then flung it—but unlike at the lake, where she’d skipped it across the waters, she sent it flying. A distance-counter appeared on the air and ticked up. Another mini-game.

“I was big into Comrade Clash before this,” Kat said. “Made a nice bit of money in tournaments for it. But I never cared much for the community.”

Rian nearly said it without thinking—my mom was really into that game. He twitched, almost slapping a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, Kat didn’t seem to notice him randomly spazzing out.

Information like that could lead someone back to him. His mom was practically famous to people who played Comrade Clash, and there were plenty of news articles surrounding his incident from over a year ago, linking him to her. And for anyone in-game to find out what happened to him meant the sooner people realized he was stuck in this game. It was probably inevitable at this point, but he knew he’d rather delay it as long as possible. He was in no position to deal with it.

Kat flung another stone, but it only went half as far. “It was nice to have that sense of belonging, but…fighting games don’t always bring out the nicest people. And at the end of the day, it’s still you against everyone else, and everyone else against you.” She tested the weight of a stone by tossing it and catching it. “So along comes Mirage,” she said, “and I thought, hell, maybe I could make my own community. And I could focus on collaboration instead of competition for once.”

The apocalyptic encounter between her and LastWhisper at Thile Harbor replayed itself in Rian’s mind. “It…seems like the competition’s still following you, from what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, here I am, going after the same things, like I haven’t learned my lesson.” She breathed out a humorless laugh. “LastWhisper doesn’t know when to let up, either. You only saw a glimpse of it.”

“I’m guessing it’s some kind of personal grudge?”

“You could say that.”

So something had happened between them after all. The subject was more sensitive than he’d thought, judging by her curtness. As if to end the conversation, Kat took out her virtual keyboard—a phone layout—and started typing with her thumbs. The scrolling text on his guild tab caught Rian’s eye.

: can’t believe u stole my partner Cob

: inconceivable

: oh uh

: oops. I guess it’s been all day hasn’t it LOL

: sorry bb, we’ll party tomorrow I promise

: uwu

Rian had to stifle a laugh. He felt kind of bad for stealing Kat like this, but it had really been up to her to come spar with him.

As the sun began to set, it bled violet across the sky. Shadows of trees crept toward them along the grass. Corvis was standing and stretching, and Visha came trotting up to Kat and Rian.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Kat said, checking another window then closing it. She stood up, yawned. “Are you good to go again, tomorrow?”

Still feeling elated, Rian stood up with her. “Yeah!”

And then he remembered.

He was going to be here. Today. Tomorrow. The day after. Whether he wanted to or not. And he didn’t feel tired at all—not like he should’ve been. But maybe that was from how exciting these last hours had been, spending them with her.

He hoped that was why.

“Cool!” Kat said. “We’re really on our way, then, I guess.” Smiling, she held out her fist to him, and they fist-bumped. Rian tried his best to smile back, hoping she didn’t catch the growing, hollow look in his eyes. “Night, Cob!”

She stepped back and disappeared in a swirl of blue particles as she logged out, and the dozen wards she’d placed around the area vanished along with her.

Silence.

The vast quiet of the forest surrounded him. Rian looked out over Elmguard, where even the bustle of other players had begun to die down.

He kept waiting for it to happen: for his body to tell him that it was tired, that he should lie down and close his eyes and let his mind drift into nothingness for a bit so he could wake up tomorrow. But it wasn’t happening.

Nothing was there, inside him. No urge, no exhaustion or fatigue.

He sat down in the grass, an empty feeling crashing up against him in slow, steady waves.

This is about to be the longest night of my life, he thought, isn’t it?

He felt the breeze coursing past him, chilly but not outright cold as if it could only approach the feeling infinitesimally, never quite reaching what it was meant to be. The grasses flowed in the wind, and the stars were beginning to come out. The moon stared down at him like a blind, white eye. The world, ever turning beneath him.

Rian stood up.

Fuck it.

I’ve pulled all-nighters before!

He smashed his fist into his palm, then glanced aside at Corvis, who was lying on the ground and gazing up at the sky with his hands folded across his chest.

“We’re doing this, buddy,” Rian said.

Corvis sat up, raised an eyebrow at him. “I hope you don’t intend to spar with me, next. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Wh—” Rian’s shoulders slumped. “No, I meant…I was trying to psyche myself up, but—” Giving up, he shook his head. “Never mind.” He tightened his cloth hand-wrap—even though he was pretty sure it couldn’t fall off his hands unless he unequipped it.

Dusting off his clothes, he headed toward the forests.

It was time to get his grind on.