Kade opened his capsule, feeling the air in his apartment flood in. He lay there for a moment, relishing the feeling of being back in his bruiseless body. Eventually though he rose and stepped out, heading for his clothes cupboard.

Out of habit he grabbed his jogging gear and changed into that, before restocking his capsule. It was only when he was at the door, doing warmups, that he realised what he was doing. Due to all the times that he’d gone jogging straight after coming out of his capsule it had become a deeply ingrained habit.

Unwilling to waste the time that he’d spent warming up, he decided to go jogging anyways. It wasn’t like he had anything better planned.

Outside the air was warm, hot even. The sun shone down onto the concrete, sending waves of heat dancing upwards. The dappled shade of the trees lining the roadside called to him invitingly.

He gave his legs a final shake and set off. With the steady rhythmic sound of his feet he soon found himself lost in his thoughts.

Three months. That’s how long it’d been since he’d started playing New Earth. One year in the game. A little over that now, actually. Most people might have considered it a waste. Afterall, he’d practically been living in the game for a quarter of a year. It was only once a week, two real days that he came out to restock his capsule and go for a jog. He didn’t mind though. He was almost… happy?

Happier.

He was happier. He wasn’t sure that he could ever be happy again though. Still… a year. So much had happened in that time.

He’d gotten the capsule, started the game. He’d ‘met’ Sera, built a house and founded a village. He smiled, lost in his memories. He wondered whether Alena was doing ok. Was she still at his place, or had she moved back to the village? How were the villagers, Cairn and the rest? Did they think he was dead, or that he had deserted them?

He shook his head, to clear the thoughts. Why was he even thinking of them anyway? They were just NPCs, bits of code, no matter how real and lifelike they acted.

He thought of Sophie, wondering what she was up to. Was she still on the dragon mission, or had she been relegated to another task? Had Melissa… Azrael’s smile slipped of his face. He remembered that he still had to pass through Nova Lux, where the Holy Empire was based.

Passing into a park he stopped at one of the benches. He checked his watch. Thirty minutes. That meant he’d run around five kilometers. He let out a little laugh that startled a walking passer-by. To think that he’d struggled to complete a kilometer in the same amount of time when he’d started. It was nothing like the five-minute kilometers he’d run while in high school, but it was a good pace nonetheless.

Letting his head fall backwards he looked up at the early summer sky, while relishing the slight burn in his legs. It felt good to accomplish something. The burn let him know that he was alive and had completed something, so different to the years he’d spent hidden away in his apartment. The slight burn was nothing compared to his bruised and beaten avatar in game.

A thought popped into his mind and he almost laughed at the irony of what he was about to do on his supposed ‘free’ days.

Pushing himself up onto his feet he rose and walked over to an empty grassy patch of the park. A few people walked by, a young boy was walking his dog with his father and further away a group of ladies were doing yoga in the pleasant weather. Azrael ignored all of that as he closed his eyes and dropped into a combat stance.

The stance that he’d suffered so much to learn felt both painfully familiar, but also strange to his real body which wasn’t used to the position. He let his mind fade away, falling into the breathing for [Meditation], despite the lack of the skill in the real world. It helped him get into the zone and that was all that mattered. Then, when he felt that he was ready, he stepped through the sequence.

It was slow, awkward and clumsy at first, as if somebody had filled his usually smooth joints with sand and replaced his muscles with waterlogged clay. His limbs moved slower than he’d expected, forcing him to accept the slowed pace.

Flowing through the movements he felt his entire body shake from the strain and he put conscious effort into getting each movement correct, more so than he’d ever done before.

He noticed how each limb moved, where each belonged and how each move flowed into the next.

It was only when he completed the third repetition that he finally began to understand what he’d learnt. To say that it was an epiphany would have been an exaggeration. It was more of a slow realisation, as countless observations that he made finally connected into a larger picture. The revelation was so shocking that he actually faltered and stopped.

When he started again he didn’t move his feet, instead moving only his arms. They windmilled, stabbed, slashed and sliced through the air around him, filling it. Next, he moved his legs, breaking off parts of the sequence and rematching them to create a new sequence.

His feet moved, carrying him. He felt fast and untouchable, like the wind, the racing clouds.

The technique wasn’t just a movement technique, but also a combat technique. His arms moved in various sequences, representing attack and defence. His feet carried him forward and backwards – advance and retreat. Each separate move itself was a strategic masterpiece that could be strung together into an indefinite number of combinations.

He stopped moving, his lungs burning and his whole body on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.

Around him applause began to ring out from a crowd of onlookers that had gathered to watch him. If he face wasn’t as red as it already was from exhaustion, then it would have definitely reached that same colour in that moment.

He left the dispersing group and staggered over to the park bench, utterly drained of energy. If it had been up to him, then he would have just collapsed onto the ground where he’d stopped. Unfortunately, there were onlookers and he had his pride, so he endured the distance to the bench.

That evening he fell into bed after a shower and a takeaway meal from the local Chinese store. To be training on his day ‘off’ was very… very… very much like something he would do. He sighed as he pulled the covers up. His body was almost as sore as it was in game. The only thing missing was the bruises.

He turned to the side and looked at a photo frame in the dark. He knew that his parents would be smiling back at him from inside the picture. He closed his eyes and smiled. Would they have been happy to know that he was jogging again? What about the fact that he was practically living inside the game capsule?

Closing his eyes he saw them before him, a memory from when he was still in high school. It had been the day when Samson had invited him over for a sleepover and the day he’d first stepped into a game capsule.

“Do you have all your books?” his mother asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you grab your lunch?”

“Yes.”

“What about…”

“Yes Mum.”

He’d been eager and impatient to go, excited at the prospect of playing in an game capsule. Luckily his father saved him from his mother, by placing a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from asking the next question. He used his other hand to ruffle a younger Kade’s head.

“See ya’ champ. Have fun” he said with a smile.

Kade heard his younger self reply.

“Thanks Dad, I will.”

Azrael woke, tears in the corners of his eyes, a sad smile twisting across his face as he finished his younger self’s sentence.

“I’ll make sure to have fun.”