Located no more than thirty minutes away by walking, Camille's house was by all means quite close to her friend's. No matter what excuse one would have for not visiting, the argument of distance would not be one of them. For even if one were to dislike walking, there still remained the ever-relevant option of the subway, rentable electronic scooters, and a good old cab. In short, if the two mutually agreed, then they could have met each other at any time.

Yet, the very fact that they didn't begs the question as to why. An question no doubt easily answered by a single sentence alone, the fact of the matter was, that Camille simply didn't feel like it.

Seeming to think this whole thing over, Camille scratched her chin as she waited at toe door of her apartment. From the message her friend sent, there would be a good minute until she would arrive. Thus, with all the courtesy that she could muster from her heart, Camille waited patiently. Deciding to greet her upon arrival instead of just leaving the door open for her to enter, it was a odd act of kindness from her. One easily forgotten over years of isolation, it was perhaps a indicator of something grander. That perhaps, just maybe, Camille had begun to become just a tad more kind.

Without much to think about, the patient woman simply let the time pass by while she stared at her door.

Any second now and her friend would arrive. Camille contemplated.

And, as if it were a miracle of fate, a rhythmic sound of knocking was heard from the door. The uncommon rasp of knuckle upon wood, it was an action unexpected in this day and age. Because for some reason, despite all of humanity's advancements in science and electronic bells, there still remained people who preferred to use their good old hands. It just so happened that, one of those people was her friend Morgan. One of those few special people who enjoyed hurting their hands, the likelihood that it was her who arrived just increased tenfold. But, tenfold never meant that any other option was impossible.

Therefore, in a act motivated by concerns of security Camille positioned her eye over the peephole on her door. Shown through a small but convenient little piece of glass that curved like a fish's eye, she was able to identify her friend. Covered from top to toe by a yellow rainjacket she had worn since years ago, the whole sight was quite entertaining.

Yep, it's her, alright. Blonde hair, short, with a pair of circular glasses, and ever so bubbly as always from mere posture alone, there was no mistaking it.

The door handle pressed down, and Camille took one final breath.

"Heya." Camille greeted while she opened the door.

A waft of a fruity appley scent entered through her nose. The signature smell of Morgan, it was actually somewhat pleasing. Invoking both nostalgic memories and her overall liking for fruits in general, Camille held no prejudice against it. The same could not be said for her friend in general however. Gently, and yet with somewhat great intensity, Morgan bounced. Although a great time had passed, Camille saw that little had changed in the way of her personality and demeanor. Though one might assume that a full understanding of an individual's personality could not come through mere idle gestures alone, Camile thought otherwise. For all the years they had spent together, Morgan had never once deviated from her base personality and actions. Whether that be a good or bad thing, though, she'll soon find out.

"Hello!" Her friend meekly replied, all while examining her friend head to toe. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah yeah, just come."

After nodding a few brisk nods with her head, Morgan with minimal noise stepped inside.

Then, straight away, her head rotated like an atlas globe. Looking at all the surroundings with great joy, the woman even went as far as to feel the walls with her hands while doing so. Surely, whatever appeal she saw in walls was completely lost on Camille.

"It's just as dark as usual!" Morgan reminisced with plain honesty. For whatever reason, there was, even the mere prospect of once again reliving the good old days in complete darkness brought her happiness. However, as delightful as the vacant void was, she still offered a hopeful glance to her friend.

Lit by a crevice of light through the door, Camille saw Morgan's face muster up some form of quaint courage, most likely to express a concern that she had kept hidden up until this point.

"Not to be annoying or anything, but could you turn the lights on?" Immediately Morgan's body adopted a defensive posture, the signature sight of a woman who did not know what to expect from her friend, there was no saying how Camille would react. "That's not to say the darkness is terrible or anything bu-"

Camille closed her eyes and gathered the willpower to be as compassionate as possible.

"You don't have to worry so much. Just speak your mind. Do you want me to turn on the lights or not?"

Said with a firm stance, and a glance that could just be interpreted as crude, Camille anticipated her friend's answer.

"Yes!"

There we go. Friends as they were, Camille took it upon herself to improve Morgan as a person. To give her more confidence and courage, sometimes, harshness was necessary.

With her hand on the light switch, Camille flipped it on. Aside from the jarring sight of her whole apartment made bare, nothing else about it bothered her.

As long as Camille turned away from the relics of the past, that is. Besides that little detail though, all was quite well.

Not even the sudden shift from dark to light made a strain on her eyes. After all, now that she had Lightborne equipped, she was able to challenge any light that would oppose her path! Whether it be flashbangs, flashlights, or those pesky drivers who kept flashing their headlights, they would all bow to her might!

As Camille was thinking to herself, Morgan had begun to look around. Observing the room for herself, Morgan saw that it was much in like as per usual. With a clear lack of furniture, save for stands where Camille displayed her trophies, all was as it once was.

Therefore, Morgan who satisfied with that vague sense of familiarity looked back to her friend, and saw that she too, was in some form of contemplation.

Heh, that's a funny thought. Thinking over her ability Lightborne, Camille was still in the midst of testing her ability's limitations. While its effect in reducing the effect of light proved to be more then effective, she still wasn't quite finished yet.

After all, there was one more aspect of it that needed testing. Without so much as a word to why Camille exited her apartment and shut the door between them. No doubt startled by this sudden revelation, Camille imagined Morgan's stupefied expression and smiled. Taking in some quaint smidgen of sadistic pleasure, Camille then looked to where her friend should've been.

Much in accordance with what she expected, Camille, despite the ever prominent presence of a bloody wall, was able to make out her friend's figure. Illuminated by an outline of what could only be described as red luminescent energy, Camille verified the validity of the skill's claims.

Any individual who tries to blind you will be visible through any physical and magical obstruction for ten seconds. So, even a mere action such as turning a light on could be considered a blinding effect, a most quaint revelation.... Considering that fact, five seconds passed. With only five more remaining, she waited the rest of its duration out. In a instant, the aura she once saw disappeared. Rather than fade over time or slowly decrease in effect, the outline of her friend vanished instantaneously upon the grand duration of ten seconds.

Well, with her theory confirmed, she could finally get back inside.

"Open the door." Camille asked with neither hostility or kindness.

Doing as she were told, Morgan did just that. With their roles reversed, it was her who welcomed the other in this time.

"Sorry, I just had to do something," Camille said as a half-assed apology.

There was no need to give any more explanation beyond that. That could come later when she needed to explain her whole video game body thing. Actions, Camille believed, aside from those that granted happiness, or was of use, should best be avoided.

At least for the time being, Camille had no intention of changing that principle. So, without much ado, Camille vacantly stared at Morgan and anticipated her next words.

"Oh, there's no need to stress. I was just a bit worried, that's all."

"Good, then let's get on with it."

Seeing that her own friend said there was no need to stress, Camille listened. Walking to her dining table she pulled out a respective seat for each of them. Certainly, with all that she would thrust upon the poor unsuspecting girl that was Morgan, offering her a seat was the least she could do. An act still carried by the same principle as before, Camille who convinced herself that it was logical to provide a chair, was now prepared to make her statement.

"I've become a video game character."

There was no hesitation in her words.

"Um, what."

There was no time for her to pause and think upon what she just heard.

"I promise I'm not on drugs and that I haven't implemented some nanochips in my head either. I am quite literally a human being with the powers of a video game character."

Entirely unconvincing by its own merit, and paired with the complete and utterly calmness that was Camille's own voice rendered this whole situation to be very strange. As well, was the fact that Morgan had no idea what her friend was trying to say. Shocked in both expression and body posture, Morgan uncomfortably scratched her right cheek.

"That's uh cool, but could you maybe please elaborate a bit?" Yet even confused as she was, Morgan still wanted to offer her friend the benefit of the doubt. After all, she reckoned that a year of isolation alone couldn't have wholly demolished what remained of her friends' personality, right?

Surely she couldn't have become one of those cyber psychos or druggies. Though with how temperamental Camille was, anything was certainly possible, Morgan considered.

On the opposing end, Camille felt nothing. With her gaze still fixated on Morgan, Camille noticed the subtle distinctions that betrayed the feeling of doubt. If she would not accept the reality through mere speech alone, then she would just have to show her.

"Status."

PROFILE

NAME: Camille STATUS: ALIVE TITLE: Proud Gamer CLASS: NONE RACE: HUMAN LEVEL: 1 STR: 10 DEF: 10 VIT: 10 DEX: 10 RES: 10 CHA: 10

Morgan's eyes widened like a ravine at the sight before her. Taken aback, her right hand grabbed for her glasses and pushed them up. Raking her brain, she scrutinized every conceivable origin of the thing before her. Holograms, some high-tech electronic display, or even magic were all notable options that crossed her mind.

Feeling an odd sense of satisfaction, Camille could only smile. Truthfully, there was a sense of domineering pleasure to be gained. Knowing that every possibility Morgan conceived was wrong was something. Anyhow, Morgan would accept the truth soon. Whether it or not, it would take a hour or two was of little concern. In the end, the two had the whole evening all to the themselves, and they damn sure weren't going to spend it sipping on tea.