After exiting the game, I just sat for a few seconds, before laughter bubbled up within me. Dying for the first time, not in some epic battle or fighting against impossible odds, but because a magical experiment gone awry. It was so strangely fitting, I could only laugh at it.

Shaking my head, I decided to do what every good scientist would do after an experiment had wholly unexpected side-effects, namely look at the data. In this case, a lot of data was lost or locked behind that countdown, but I could take a look at the recordings, hoping to find something of interest.

What I found was what I should have expected, namely what my Avatar, the body, had done. I could see the incision I had made into Ylva’s pelt, I could see myself placing my hand on the rune, and I could watch for a minute while nothing happened. After that minute, I could hear Sigmir exclaim in surprise and shortly after that, the camera circled my body once, while my Avatar faded into the black particles, leaving behind a distressed looking Lenore.

One thing of interest was visible, namely that Ylva started to glow in a curious mixture of silver and gold, but it was only on a few frames at the end of the video, giving me very little to go on, at least not until I was able to return to Mundus.

Before logging out of the capsule, I did my due-diligence, compiling the events into a bug-report and filing it in the appropriate system. While I was almost certain that I didn’t die due to a bug, it might have been one, so reporting it felt like the right thing to do. Once that was done, I logged out, still not certain what to do with myself.

Shaking my head again, I decided to make the best I could of the sudden, enforced vacation from Mundus and take care of a few chores I had postponed before. One of those chores was to send Chris a message, like he had asked when we had last met, something about getting another coffee one of these days. While I wasn’t quite certain what he wanted to talk about, he seemed to have moved on with his life, my mother had taught me that friendships needed a certain time-investment if you wanted to remain friends. Chris and I hadn’t seen each other for a few years, so maybe we just needed to invest some more time into our friendship, or something like that. If nothing else, the fact that his job and my nominal job as an accountant were in similar fields might give us something to talk about.

After sending the message to him, I went about my appartement, doing those pesky chores that always fell by the wayside, things like cleaning the windows, dusting on the cupboards. None of the chores were urgent but at the same time, I had to do them at some point, or they would still be on my to-do list by the time the life-version came out.

I hadn’t even managed to clean one of the windows, when my mobile-phone chirped to tell me I had a reply, making me realise that Chris likely had received my message during his coffee-break, as it was roughly the right time. His message was short and to the point, suggesting a meeting in the afternoon, at a coffee-shop near his work-place. While it was a bit of a surprise that he actually had time on such short notice, I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not when I had time to kill anyway.

By the time I had to get ready, I had managed to do the piled-up chores and even had some extra time to read on the forums, though there wasn’t a lot of interesting information to be found. Life on Mundus was going on as usual, despite the fact that I had died for the first time. There was a wry smile on my lips as I realised just how arrogant that thought was, but at the same time, the only being that had managed to kill me, had been myself. That had to count for something.

Dressed in one of my professional-looking pant-suits and a dark coat, I wouldn’t look out of place, which was always something to strive for. While I didn’t mind standing out when within a computer-game or generally on the Internet, I disliked being stared at. It was uncomfortable enough with my diminutive physique, making me appear to be a child at times so professional dress when in social situations made me more comfortable.

Curiously, Chris and I got to the coffee-shop at the same time, with him holding the door for me. It brought a smile on my face, that actions of decorum Mrs. Wu and my mother had told me about were used so naturally by Chris, despite the, at times, rough way he had been as a teenager. Maybe people actually did grow up, which made me wonder about myself. Had I changed, and if so, in what way? It was difficult to tell from the inside how my subconscious actions had changed, and if so, for what reason.

After shaking off my weird, pensive mood, more suitable for Mundus and the introspective nature of my magical studies, I focused on the world around me as we went through the motions of ordering.

His order, some hideously complicated drink I would need a manual to make, with a mixture of soy and half-fat milk, only to add some sugary syrup afterwards, amused me to no end, especially given that he had used to take his coffee black, without adding anything. It must have been a relatively usual concoction, as they easily took his order, while my simple, green tea needed to be confirmed twice.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, once we were seated at one of the corner tables. As I answered his question with the meaningless platitudes he undoubtedly expected, I realised that I had fallen back on the training with Mrs. Wu. I was sitting with my back to the corner, close to the employee-only door, able to easily see the entrance and counter, just like she had taught me to. Similarly, my reply was performative to the extreme, without giving any information of substance, but the idea of talking about Mundus and Road to Purgatory felt strangely alien to me, especially when sitting in a coffee-shop, wearing professional clothes. As if that talk belonged to another world, maybe another time. Back, when we had been teenagers, I wouldn’t have thought twice about talking about the latest Craft of War changes. Maybe that was proof that I had actually changed.

Luckily, while I had very little to add to the conversation beyond meaningless platitudes, my own professional activities limited to keeping my certification active, Chris seemed to be content to tell me all about a merger he and his colleagues were working on.

Personally, I hardly cared, but it was interesting to practise Mrs. Wu’s lessons, trying to spot when he was embellishing his role and when he was genuine. It gave me something to do, while nodding along to his tale and certainly kept my mind occupied. Still, as I listened, I began to wonder if renewing a friendship was worth it, if there seemed to be nothing we still had in common.

“Say, have you thought about what you are going to do in the future?” he asked, after his story about the merger wound down. It caught me a little by surprise, so I merely shook my head while taking another sip of my tea.

“After we met, I looked Craft of War up, for old times and all that, you know? Wouldn’t now, after leaving the old team, be a good time to make a new start? To do something respectable and professional, maybe even look to start a family?” he continued, making me freeze for a moment.

“There are some things in the works.” I replied, trying to give a professional reply without making it obvious that I was playing for time to think.

“Why do you ask?” I brought the question back to him, my mind looking for a fitting reply. The problem was, I didn’t really have one. While a part of me wanted to sink myself into Road to Purgatory, to delve into the deepest of its mysteries, was that a viable long-term plan? Especially if there was the always-present possibility that there would be no Sigmir in the official release?

“Just the other day, I talked to one of my colleagues, and there might be a position at the bank for someone of your qualifications. You did keep your license active, as we discussed during University, right?” he explained, and I found myself nodding along, not agreeing but simply showing that I listened, while my mind was churning.

“As I said, there are things in the work. But I’d like to think about it, if that is no problem?” I suggested, getting a nod in response.

“Great. Why don’t we meet again, soon? I’m afraid I’ll have to get back to work.” After getting a nod, he quickly emptied his coffee and got up, while I was still sitting there, until I realised that my tea had gone cold.

He certainly had given me something to think about.