It was closing in on two in the morning. Still wired from the meeting, I’d parted ways with Kinsley, finished the last recovery potion, and headed down to the apartment’s gym complex. Despite usually being locked around this time, I’d gotten special permission to access it after hours from the landlord—a middle-aged woman with a blonde bob haircut named Dawn, who coincidentally never seemed to sleep. It wasn’t the iron I was after, but the adjacent racquetball court.

A handful of Users in the area had converted it to a small training arena. Thick gym pads lined now-scarred white walls.

I’d made the mistake of underestimating the adaptive dungeon the first time. I wasn’t about to overestimate my abilities after being mostly wheel-chair bound for the last few days.

Carefully, I stood, and took a few tentative steps. My muscles ached slightly, but there was no immediate rebound of pain. Feeling slightly emboldened, I jumped up and grabbed onto one of the overhanging platforms that ascended in something of a stairway to a rail-less octagon suspended by a central pillar, and attempted to lift myself up to chest level.

I overshot from the sudden burst of movement, nearly tumbling off the platform back onto the ground, hanging perilously by one arm.

But I didn’t fall. Even hanging one-handed, my grip was solid. Surprisingly so.

The sudden dexterity had to be the augmented agility at work. I just hadn’t expected it to be this effective. When my stats had been augmented, I’d been completely run down and exhausted. There was a notable boost then. Now that I was well-rested, the increase felt exponential.

And I hadn’t even toggled the on yet.

Curious, I tried to lift myself up with one hand. I managed it once, my chin touching the plexiglass rim of the platform. When I tried to repeat the feat, my arm began to tire, muscle giving out at the halfway point.

Right. Augmented agility did nothing to boost my strength.

I dropped to the ground in a solid crouch, the wooden floor echoing with the impact. After considering it and deciding there was no real reason to wait, I messaged Sae.

I frowned. Was I too short? Or was it that I was messaging her when we were staying in the same apartment?

After a quick scan of the conversation, I worded my next message very carefully.

There was no response message. Couldn’t really blame her. Even through the viewpoint of I still felt a lingering sense of horror at the miscommunication.

Still, it made me think. I needed to diverge my maskless life from the profile. Not all at once—if I altered my behavior drastically, it would be painstakingly obvious to someone as perceptive as Miles that I was overcorrecting, flagging clear guilt. But if I deviated over time, slowly painting my altered self in subtle strokes that were different enough to cast doubt? That could still be an effective strategy, even if he was looking for it.

I rifled through my pockets, eventually withdrawing the wadded receipt from Sam’s with the waitress’s name scribbled on the corner. Miles had specifically called out that Myrddin would be unlikely to form close platonic or romantic attachments. Bad fucking timing for my best friend to be MIA, but maybe I could do something about the latter.

Even if the thought made me mildly queasy.

The flat white wall of the racquetball court door swung inwards. I spun, reaching down towards my hip. Then stopped.

Sae was wearing a dark overcoat. Beneath the sleeves were a pair of gloves that looked slightly oversized, but did an excellent job masking her attention-grabbing claws. The chitin around the base of her chin was covered with an orange scarf, her compound eyes concealed by a pair of reflective aviators. The finishing stroke—and, I suspected, the reason for the overcoat—was whatever magic Iris had managed with Sae’s legs. Armored augmentation on her legs thickened them, while some clever trickery in the design made her knees appear as if they were bending the correct way. Though considering her uncharacteristic trudge, there was probably a limitation on how quickly she could move and maintain the facade.

It wasn’t perfect. Sae still looked suspicious as hell. But no one would mistake her for a monster.

“Iris worked fast.”

“Your sister’s an angel.” Sae took the glasses off, revealing hexagonal-tiled red eyes. “Helped me try it on. It’s not functional—she was really beating herself up about that and promised the next version would be, though honestly, I was just happy to not look like a freak—then explained how it worked and passed out on the couch.” She paused. “We safe here?”

I nodded. “Should be. Landlady said I was the only one with access.”

“Good. First time I haven’t been freezing and, of course, I’m too hot.” Sae ripped the scarf off and starting dismantling her augments, leaving them in a pile in the corner. I looked away on reflex. While I waited, I plugged the waitress’s name into my social, hesitating on the mental trigger to add her.

I blurted out the question before I could think better of it. “How do I ask someone out?”

Sae slowly turned. “Any more hard right turns tonight, and I’m gonna get whiplash, Helpline.”

“Forget it.”

“You’ve seriously never done that before? Asked someone out? Flirted?”

I hadn’t. For one, it had always struck me as a frivolous waste of time, given my situation. Dating was for people who didn’t have to worry about where their next meal was coming from. And I’d never really met anyone I found attractive enough to even consider it.

“Just drop it. Let’s do what we came here to do.”

“Oh hell no, now I’m interested.” Sae grinned, stalking into my vision. “This adonis that melted your icy heart.”

I crossed my arms. “She’s a waitress. And it’s nothing serious.”

“Huh. Does she know you exist?”

“She made the first move.”

“Are you sure?”

I rolled my eyes, despite the fact that I’d utterly missed it at the time. “She wrote down the system equivalent of her number on the receipt.”

“Huh. I mean yeah, that’s interested. But you have to be careful and consider her motivations.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Seriously. Maybe it’s just hero worship, but from what little I’ve picked up, you’re in a position of power as the region owner and connected to two serious guilds.” Sae cocked her head.

I considered it. If the waitress did have an ulterior motive, that was probably ideal in terms of balancing the scales. “Honestly, it’s better if she’s looking to get something out of it.”

Sae gave me a dead stare. “So, you’re just looking to…” she smacked a hand against her wrist twice. It clinked, rather than the meaty slap she intended.

That queasy feeling came back into my stomach. “God no.”

“So if it’s not sex, and it’s not romance, what are you even wanting out of this?” Sae looked completely perplexed. It was a fair question.

“It’s an optics issue.” I finally admitted, not sure how else to say it. “With this spotlight on me, I need to do whatever I can to look normal. Stop people from asking questions before they start.”

“You want to reduce your disquieting, possibly-a-serial-killer vibe.” Sae guessed.

I winced. “Okay, hurtful… but yes. That’s the general idea.”

Sae tilted her head thoughtfully. “I mean, she’s already bought in. Short of ghosting her, she’ll probably take anything you do as reciprocated interest. How nice is the place she works at?”

“Uncomfortably fancy.”

“Fine-dining people tend to be particular about their food. Don’t do a restaurant until you know what she likes. Do coffee, or boba, or something.”

That was surprisingly insightful. “Should I, uh, wait a certain number of days before reaching out?”

Sae shook her head. “Nah. There are people who play those games, but that’s mostly a myth. As long as you didn’t start spamming her texts the second you got her contact information, or send significantly more messages than she does, you’re fine. Sooner is usually better, to be honest.”

I nodded. Slowly, the ridiculousness of the conversation began to sink in, and I felt my cheeks redden.

Sae snickered. “To be a fly on the wall in that coffee shop.”

“Shut up.” Thoroughly ready to forget this conversation ever happened, I stalked to the center of the room, my footsteps reverberating on the scuffed wooden floor. “Your turn in the hot seat. Let’s see what you can do.”

For the first time, doubt shadowed Sae’s expression. “It feels weird.”

“Your balance?” I guessed. Her center of gravity had changed significantly.

“I finally looked at my character screen yesterday. Most of the abilities are written in a language I can’t understand. But the stats themselves are significantly increased from where they were before.”

“Which stats?”

“Strength and agility. Both in the low thirties.”

My eyebrow shot up at that. Compared to where she was before, being in the thirties of any stat was an insane boost, even if it didn’t align with her class. Sae shook her head. “But that’s not the weird part. It feels wrong to take advantage of this. Like…”

“Like you’re tacitly approving of what happened to you.” I finished.

“Yes. Exactly.” Sae peered at me suspiciously. “How can you be so insightful when it comes to psychological shit and simultaneously clueless when it comes to what we just talked about?”

I ignored the jibe. “None of us chose to be in this situation. And sure, there are some monsters that probably prefer this to the world we had before, but they’re the minority. Personally, I think there’s no shame in using the absolute hell out of any tools you’ve been given. Regardless of their source. That’s just survival. But that’s just my feelings on it. What matters, is what you think.”

Sae chewed her lip. “I think… I want that rematch.“

I smiled. “Gladly.”