To be a better player, you need to always be in the zone. To be exact you need to feel as if you are one with your character. The thing about VR fighting games compared to traditional ones is that you use your imagination instead of controllers. If you believe that you can summon Javelins out of thin air and throw it at great accuracy then your performance on the stage might just be the same. With this in mind, there are times that it feels like Azrael herself is a part of me. It’s like we are fighting on stage together. I guess that's just how it feels to be in the zone.

-PenDragon, after being awarded Ethereal Fighter’s first MVP and leading his team to victory in the World Championship.

Diablo found himself hauled into a new dimension. Synchronization, was it? He thought to himself. In that form, he felt like he was summoned to a new body yet the body he is in now is similar to his original one. He looked around his surroundings. The familiar white world he knows is nowhere in sight. In place of it is the park he was watching on screen with Lars a few moments ago. In front of him, a few meters away, is his friend Lar’s doppelganger.

Diablo felt another consciousness. Inside his head he can hear a familiar voice which he can’t place who or where he knows it from.

I need to hit the rocks faster and stronger. They would never hit him at this rate.

Diablo felt his right hand raising and activating his favorite skill. His left arm threw a rock in the air and hit it with his glowing right fist as it fell down. The rock flew to its intended target but Lars’ character disappeared and reappeared right in front of him with a punch to the stomach. The attack made him flinch but his body reacted immediately by grabbing his attacker’s arm and throwing him over the shoulders. Lars negated the throw by somersaulting and teleporting a short distance away. Diablo stared at his friend’s form and heard him speak but with an unfamiliar voice.

“You should stop using that rock throw attack of yours. I may not be able to see the projectile but I can still react from just the sound of the impact alone. You are never going to hit me that way.”

Diablo was silent, waiting for the familiar voice he heard a while ago that was occupying his body. The latter didn’t respond but he could hear all of his thoughts.

I need more speed and power. Why can’t I make my punches stronger?

Diablo can feel the man’s struggle and wanted to tell him that abilities are coded and would not get stronger or faster because the user wills them to be. He watches through his doppelganger’s eyes as his body struggles to hit his opponent. He wished he could tell him to simply give up but synchronizers can not communicate with beings of cyberspace.

He remembered a talk he had with his friend Azrael, the angel fighter, who’s character he was now facing. “Synchronizers summon us when they are fully concentrated on the match. They like to say that they are in the zone but I am not sure what that means. We can’t really influence the match since we just become spectators. All I know is that it is an opportunity for us to glimpse the world beyond us.”

Those words echoed in his ears as he witnessed his doppelganger do the same attacks over and over again. It had been more than ten years since he was able to synchronize. The idea excited him; but with the current situation, instead of making him happy it only made him feel disappointed. His abilities simply couldn’t match those of the younger generations. In his mind, Diablo could only think to himself. [It is time to give up.]

I am not giving up!

Diablo was surprised when he heard the familiar voice’s thoughts as if answering to him. [Can you hear me?]

No response.

Of course you couldn't, I would be very surprised if you could, Diablo thought to himself. He refocused on the fight taking place. Whoever was controlling his body would be able to land a punch or kick but is always met by two in return. Seeing his opponent’s health bar at 37% and his at 27% sank Diablo’s heart. He looked at his friend’s image and thought of him.

[Perhaps the future of the realm really depends on the newer characters. Old timers like me should stop thinking about becoming a world champion again.]

Diablo decided he would just wait until the match was finished and go back to Cyberspace. At least once he returns he can fully focus on cheering for his friend’s future success. It is the responsibility of old timers like himself to support the younger generations, he thought.

Don’t give up on me Diablo! Not after all those stupid tournaments my father forced me to.

Hearing his name stirred something in Diablo. Did he say tournaments? Why did he say my name? Could he probably hear me? He waited for some evidence of communication but decided that it was not the case. Still, the experience unnerved him a bit. Could this be the same boy he was with ten years ago? The boy that gave him his championship? These questions kept repeating in Diablo's mind until he heard the familiar voice again.

I don’t care if they have unfair abilities. The only weapons a man needs are his fists and his legs. Even if they have a knife, gun or a giant monster. I would just go to them and punch them! Come on, Diablo, you were never this weak before, I know you are stronger than this.

Upon hearing those words, Diablo felt as if a knife was slowly twisting at his heart. Just a few minutes ago he was running from a giant shadow wolf. He would never dare fight back against it since he knows that he would lose. That’s just the way it is with new overpowered characters, he thought. But the idea of him being weak never crossed his mind before.

[I am not weak.]

[I am not weak.]

He repeated the mantra over and over again but then stopped. [It’s not like I can do anything now anyway. We can’t really influence the match since we just become spectators.] Diablo repeated the words of a previous friend.

[Can I really not do anything?]

While Diablo pondered over these questions a quick look forward made him realize that a dagger was flying right in front of his face. The dagger was coming in so fast that it was almost impossible for his body to react. Out of reflex, he threw himself backwards as the knife whizzed over his chest. When it advanced past his face, he straightened himself slowly.

What just happened?

Diablo heard the familiar voice question himself.

[Did I do that?] Diablo wondered if his flinching made his doppelganger lean backwards. If that was the case then he might be able to do something, he thought.

His doppelganger picked up a rock from the ground and threw it in the air. Diablo knew what was going to happen and mentally told himself to do the same.

“How many times are you going to do that old trick old man?”

Diablo felt annoyed by being called an old man. Quite a cheeky kid, this one.

At this point, Lars' player threw a dagger to which his own doppelganger responded by activating a skill.

[STRONG PUNCH]

How many times, you ask?

Diablo and his synchronized player had the same answer.

“UNTIL I FINALLY GET TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!”

[UNTIL I FINALLY GET TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE!]