According to credit card company statistics, one in twenty card holders went through a serious “health altercation” every year. The majority of cases included light chemical poisoning, food allergies, and transport accidents. In seventeen percent of the instances, the condition of the card holders was considered aggravated, meaning that hospital care was required. There were no statistics for non-card holders. As far as I knew, it could be seven out of ten just as easily as three in ten thousand. My grandfather used to say, “The truth is that there is no truth,” and he was right.

I sat in the marble waiting room of Saint Raphael Hospital staring blankly at the floor. It had been fifteen minutes since the ambulance had brought us here. Jeff’s sister had immediately been rushed to a rejuvenation room, while Jeff and I were left to wait in the visitor area. Not a single person questioned our appearance; all that mattered for them was that there was someone to pay the bill.

This is crazy. I slid my fingers along the wooden seat. The last time I was in a hospital was ages ago. I must have been around five, back when public hospitals were still a thing. My parents had dragged me there because of some pandemic scare. The only things I remembered were the crowds of people, the smell of industrial disinfectant, and lots of yelling coming from every hall. Saint Raphael was nothing like it. A few seats away, Jeff was curled up in a chair, gripping his phone with both hands.

“She’ll be fine.” I didn’t need to look to know he had hacked into the hospital’s security feed to keep an eye on her condition. “Whatever's wrong, they’ll fix her,” I lied. There was no way I could know what was wrong with her or what the doctors were actually doing. However, Jeff needed to hear some reassurance.

“One in eleven million,” he whispered. “It was supposed to be the good stuff. I bought it for her birthday, she liked having chocolate on her birthday.” The whispers devolved into rambling.

“She’ll have other chances.” I stood up and walked to him. “Lots of other chances.” I put my hand on his shoulder. Jeff trembled. “What is her name?”

“Huh?” He looked up at me.

"What's your sister's name?"

“Katherine,” his voice could barely be heard.

“Fitting.” Poor families tended to give grandiose names to their children. “I’m going to the toilet. Be right back. You’ll be okay alone for a few minutes, right?”

No response.

“Jeff?” Seeing him in such a depressing state was painful. Usually, he’d be the one to try and cheer me up. I used to think he was only trying to hit on me, though now I knew there was more to it. With his skills and connections, there were thousands of people he could have turned to for help. Instead, he had called me.

“I’ll be fine.” He looked back at his phone. The response was far from reassuring.

“Okay, I’ll—“

“How long do you have left till the end of the quest?” Jeff asked all of a sudden.

A shiver passed down my neck. “Don’t worry about that.” I instinctively reached for my phone but stopped mid way. “Enough. More than enough.”

“Did you solve the riddles?”

“Yes.” I nodded twice. “Almost.” My lips pursed for a few moments. “Definitely getting there. I just need to check out a few things to be sure. As I said, don’t worry about it. This time tomorrow, I’ll have reached the mysterious level one hundred and will get back to forgetting Vesperia ever existed.” As if that could happen. After everything I’d gone through, I was convinced that the quest was just the beginning. The big question was to what. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, okay?”

I waited for a few seconds. This time, when Jeff didn’t react, I didn’t stick around, heading instead towards the side corridor. The moment he was out of view, I took out my phone and checked the remaining quest time: four hours, seventeen minutes.

Crap! I clenched my jaw. There wasn’t a chance I’d be able to complete the quest. My shift was starting in less than two hours, and by the time it was over, it would be too late. I hastened my pace. The toilets were marked with a large bronze sign etched into the wall. I promptly passed by, continuing straight to reception. Three living people sat there behind a marble desk in the shape of a semicircle.

“Good afternoon, how may I be of service?” A blond in his thirties asked as I approached. He was wearing an white organic uniform with the hospital logo embroidered on chest level of his shirt. The whole thing probably cost more than three month’s rent.

“Hey.” I flashed a smile. “Do you happen to know any gaming rigs for rent in the area?” In this part of town, that was going to set me back a few hundred at least.

“If the connection is under thirty minutes, you can use our rig facilities,” the man offered.

“Really?” Of course you’d have your own rigs in the hospital. If someone was rich enough to afford care here, they’d at least expect access to most modern conveniences. Interesting that there was a time limit attached.

“Of course.” The blond stood up and stepped from behind the desk. “Allow me to show you the way.”

“Sure thing.” Silently, I gritted my tenth. The whole notion of logging to a virtual world while Jeff’s sister was in critical condition was repulsive, yet the need was too strong for me to resist. Four hours left—one final chance to solve the puzzle and complete the quest, one final chance to see beyond. “Lead on.” I stretched my lips in a smile.

Our steps echoed as we left the lobby area, entering another corridor. If I concentrated a bit, I could almost imagine being in Kalifax. I wouldn’t be surprised if the marble had been synthesized in a European factory before being shipped here during construction. As hard as I looked, I couldn’t see a single crack anywhere along the way, as if the entire floor was one single surface.

Reaching the first stairwell, we went down a flight of stairs, then continued a bit more to the subterranean section until we reached a series of six doors.

“You can use any chamber you wish,” the man gestured. “Only the first thirty minutes are free. Anything additional will be charged at hospital rates.”

“Won’t be a prob,” I laughed with false confidence. “I take it that my connection will be anonymized?”

“We pride ourselves in our discretion.” The blond gave me a salesman smile. “All log records are buried immediately after the end of your session, and the rig solution is disposed of. Naturally, no DNA records are stored on file or computer memory.”

“Thanks.” The gamer in me felt like giving him a tip; the pragmatist told me I didn’t have enough to give. Maybe in another life. I opened the nearest door and went inside.

The room was larger than my apartment, lit up by a faint light originating at the base of the walls. The interior designer had put in a lot of effort to create a retro opera feeling, complete with wall paintings and live flowers. A large VR rig filled the middle of the room, next to a mannequin with a state of the art head connector. A small three-layer table stood not too far away, for me to put my clothes on before entering the gear.

“No expenses spared,” I whispered. Given more time, I’d spend a few minutes taking pictures of the gear, but right now, I was in a rush. I took my phone out and plugged it in the external rig socket. “Twinkle, set up my login.” I started taking off my clothes. “Full anonymity.”

“You got it, Sarah!” His voice filled the room. Clearly, the sound system was also top of the line. “Vesperia connection established.”

“Good.” I kicked off my trousers to the ground. “Any messages or hack attempts?”

“No, and no,” the cat replied. “An AI monitor is flooding me with requests to log your activity.”

Of course they would. Legally, something was considered anonymous if it protected your information from external view; it didn’t specify anything about the entity that provided the service. It was the oldest trick in the book, and for the most part people didn’t care. Today, I did.

“Keep rejecting.” I grabbed the headset interface and stepped into the cool, gelatinous substance inside the rig. “Warn me in twenty minutes.” I logged in.

Shapes and colors burst around me, building up the world of Vesperia. Interesting login sequence, I thought. It was very different from mine and way faster. If I had to guess, I’d say that the hospital was using the premium plus package—the upgrade “guaranteed to bring life into any virtual experience”. I had been bombarded with commercials about the service nonstop since I had bought my rig. Experiencing it, though, I had to admit that the marketing campaign was right. Just standing in the spawn area, I could feel the sweet smell of the air, far better than anything the real world could offer.

“Twinkle, send a message to Claire,” I said, bending down and touching the ground. My touch sensitivity was also slightly enhanced, giving the texture of the grass a somewhat organic feel. “Tell him, I need everything he can offer me.”

“Done and done!” Twinkle popped into existence in front of me, twirling like a top with a sugar rush. “Message has been sent. Anything else?”

I paused.

“Send a message to Flicker.” I stood up. “Tell him that I’m online and...” And what? That I was asking for another chance after I had chosen to drop him an hour ago? Even if he had a crush on me—and that was a giant if—it was doubtful he’d respond. “Just tell him I’m online.” I decided to keep it short.

“Sorry, Sarah, there’s no such user.” Twinkle frowned, giant tears appearing in his eyes. “Do you want me to send a ticket to game moderation?”

“No.” I opened my game settings. My dev mode options had vanished along with my special view. It wasn’t the end of the world, although I had started getting used to it. “Just let me know if anyone tries to hack my accounts.”

The sound of trumpets split the air, announcing the start of a special event. I looked up at the sky. A giant crystal zeppelin had appeared, dragging an announcement window.

Saraphim’s Run!

Hidden Quest!

Kill 7 players with the Saraphim mark in the next 20 minutes for a special item reward!

“Heh.” I had seen better events at user birthday parties. Despite the huge marketing push to get Vesperia up to date, adding new classes and sponsored celebrities, their standard event system was pathetic. Regardless, a wave of newbies rushed past me, eager to kill themselves for a bunch of low level trinkets.

“Twinkle, mark the locations I found the hints,” I said opening the game map. Two dots appeared. Strictly speaking, that was correct—the other two had been gathered by Flicker. “Add the estimated locations of the ones Flicker got.” Only an AI would be so stupid to be literal. Two more dots flashed in bright red. “Find exact spot where the points intersect.”

I watched as Twinkle connected the dots, forming a giant X on the map of Vesperia. The location was somewhere in the goblin fields, not too far from where I had defeated the dragon; an interesting coincidence, but still it didn’t field right. The goblin fields weren’t a place I’d think of when hiding something, they were exposed and too close to a major caravan route.

“Twinkle, set up a camera.” I put on my teleportation ring. “No streaming. Record for personal use only.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” A camera object materialized a short distance away. “Do you want me to set any filters?”

“No filters, just full three-sixty view.” I checked my quest log. Twenty seven minutes remained till the end of the quest.

Time to see what‘s at the X.

I teleported.