A young man in his late twenties sat at a booth in a popular cafe surfing for all the latest news about Pathwalkers on the screen generated by his cranial implant. A loose-fitting polo covered his wide shoulders and loose-fitting khaki pants covered his legs. His shoes were simple black sketchers, much to the annoyance of his wife. In fact, she told him to go buy some on his lunch break, yet here he was surfing the extranet while waiting for the friend who messaged him out of nowhere shortly after he arrived at work that morning.

About a minute passed as he waited. He ordered a glass of water from the menu display next to the booth. It arrived seconds later on a conveyor belt. While sipping the ice cold water, he heard the old-fashioned entry bell ring and saw a familiar face walk into the cafe. The man immediately set down his glass, stood, and met the other man halfway.

“Long time, no see, Thomas,” he greeted, smiling widely as he stretched his hand out.

“Yeah. Good to see you, too, Dale,” Thomas replied, grasping the outstretched hand.

As soon as the two of them sat down at the table, Dale asked, “It’s been, what... three years? How was Paris?”

Nodding while ordering a glass of sparkling water on the screen, Thomas answered, “It was alright. Learned a bit.”

“Heh. Look at you, being all humble. I heard you won some art award or something.”

Thomas sighed. “Well, yeah. They gave it to my least favorite piece, though.”

Raising a brow, Dale chuckled at Thomas’ expense and said, “I guess either you or they have bad taste.”

“Probably me,” Thomas replied, shrugging.

“Heh. Well, you ready to order?”

“I haven’t even looked at the menu.”

Dale waited while Thomas scrolled through the menu and occasionally asked questions about his time living abroad. Before Thomas could order, however, they both received notifications from their implants at the same time.

“You got one, too?” Dale asked, visibly surprised.

“Yep.”

“May as well bring it up on a shared monitor, then.”

Thomas agreed with a nod. Both of them then connected to the menu screen wifi and Dale opened the video suggestion. It was a news broadcast, though the reporter was already mid-sentence.

{-to other news, I’ve got something unfortunate to share with you all today. We have regrettably been informed that the former 2052 MMA Middleweight Champion, Owen “The Ogre” Watts, has been reported missing.}

Dale and Thomas both widened their eyes in shock upon hearing an old friend’s name for the first time in years. It was no wonder this report had been recommended to both of them. The reporter continued.

{The twenty-seven year old left the public eye after his terrible shoulder injury two years ago, but the fact that he is showing up again in such a way is truly, truly regrettable. The authorities on the case have yet to find any information that we can report. I personally want to wish any friends and family of his my heartfelt sorrow about the situation.}

The reporter continued talking in the background about Owen’s last known whereabouts and similar details. Dale rubbed his chin and lowered his eyes from the screen. He sighed and quietly said, “Man, first Alyssa disappeared, and now Owen?”

“Well, Alyssa at least left a note saying not to look for her before she disappeared.”

“She did? I didn’t know that.”

“Kara didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.”

Thomas shrugged. “Well, it was years ago now. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like Owen left anything like that. Hope he’s okay.”

“Definitely…”

The two fell silent, but then the reporter said something which caught their attention again.

{Oh! My secretary just informed me that one of the department heads at Cloudgate will actually be making an announcement on Owen’s disappearance! This is absolutely unprecedented. Let’s go to the scene. Filipe DeFranc out.}

Dale and Thomas looked at each other with disbelieving faces. A department head of Cloudgate making a public appearance for Owen’s disappearance? Really? Neither of them could believe it.

Suddenly, the video cut over to a small press room. It seemed only a few reporters were there, but they crowded around an empty podium with expressions of anticipation. After all, the department heads, aside from the head of marketing, Claire Vestig, hardly ever made public appearances. Everyone wondered who would appear.

As if appearing at everyone’s bidding, a young man of mixed Oriental descent confidently stepped into the room. At first, some of the reporters commented on the unfamiliar person, particularly about his apparent age, but they quieted upon seeing the somber expression on the man’s face. Everyone waited with baited breath as the man approached the small wooden podium. A handful of microphones awaited his words on the subject of Owen’s disappearance.

{Ahem. Well, I’m sure many of you may find what I have to say today both strange and unexpected. However, I ask that you listen to the end before asking any questions.}

“I’ve never seen this guy before,” Dale said. Then, glancing at Thomas, he asked, “Know who he is?”

Shaking his head, Thomas answered, “I don’t pay much attention to Cloudgate aside from news about Pathwalkers.”

Dale pursed his lips and returned his attention to the man on the screen.

{Before I speak about my friend, Owen, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Sora Quinyul, and I am the head producer for Pathwalkers.}

“Owen was friends with this guy?!” Dale exclaimed.

Thomas shrugged. “How would I know? I’ve been across the world for three years.”

Many of the reporters tried to ask questions which both Dale and Thomas wanted to know the answers to as well, but Sora raised a hand to silence them. His face was stern, much like a father reprimanding his children.

{Please. No questions til later. I am here to speak about my friend Owen, not myself. Now, as I’m sure you are all aware, he was declared missing this morning. My wife called to inform me about it shortly afterward. As someone who never underwent the Cranial Implant Procedure, he was, unfortunately, a potential target. We all know human trafficking exists in our world despite all we have done to fight it, and I’m afraid my friend has fallen victim to it. If that is truly the case, then I fear we may never see him again. This being said, I have spoken with the other heads of our company after hearing about his disappearance. Perhaps what I am about to say may seem selfish, but please consider the feelings of a friend who has some amount of power in a big company. After speaking with my companions, they have agreed; if Owen is not found, I can add a new essential NPC to the game based on him.}

Instantly, the room of reporters burst into a frenzy. They all wanted to ask questions about the morality or technicalities of the situation. On the other hand, Dale and Thomas couldn’t believe their ears. A friend of theirs would be immortalized in the biggest mmorpg of all time? That was an amazing thought. The only problem was that it was predicated on the permanent disappearance of their friend. That was a horrible thought.

Onscreen, the man named Sora hushed the crowd and continued speaking.

{Obviously, this act is incredibly selfish. There is no possible way we can immortalize all of our lost loved ones to the game. Therefore, we have decided that this will be the only occurrence of it unless an extreme circumstance occurs in the future. After all, Owen was incredibly excited about Pathwalkers. He always watched streams and was even a sub-moderator on our forums.}

Sora lowered his gaze for a moment, but then focused on the cameras again.

{Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have much to attend to since the full release is right around the corner. Owen, if you’re out there, please be safe. If not, then I’m sure we’ll meet again in another place. That is all.}

With that, Sora turned and quickly exited the room before any reporters could ask any questions. Since it was over, Dale disconnected from the screen’s wifi.

“I like that guy,” Thomas said.

“Yeah. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about those reporters. It seemed like he really cared about Owen. That’s pretty crazy.”

The two sat in silence mulling over the past few minutes. Honestly, it hadn’t really hit either of them that someone they knew had possibly disappeared from the world. Eventually, Dale ordered a meal, leading Thomas to do the same. While waiting, Dale brought up the inevitable subject.

“Did you pre-order Pathwalkers?”

“Well, I wasn’t here to pre-order it, but I know some people, and they are setting aside copies for me and my wife.”

“Good. Wait, you got married?”

“Yeah. Met her at a music expo. I’ll introduce her to you and Kara later.”

“Alright, then. Erm, anyway, if we’ve all got copies, then we can play together.”

“And meet Owen?”

Dale lowered his eyes briefly before answering, “Yeah, though I hope he’s not gone for good. I’d rather meet the real Owen again instead of an AI of him. I can’t apologize to an AI for not being there during his hardest moments.”

“Yeah… good point.”

After that, the two ate their meals in silence until it was time for Dale to return to work. They exchanged farewells and set up another day to meet in order to set up their dive capsules at Dale and Kara’s house. An air of solemnity hovered over them the entire time. The excitement of seeing each other again left a sour taste in their mouths since they both subtly felt that a reunion with Owen wouldn’t happen the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Sora walked down the hall toward his office with a sour expression. That speech drained years of his life away. He never wanted to do that again. Just before reaching his office, the door across from his cracked open. Pure silver eyes stared at him from behind straight purple hair.

Sora smiled and said, “Hello, Maira.”

Maira blinked and then stared at him for a few moments. Although Sora knew she could see right through him, there was nothing he could do about it. Eventually, Maira spoke.

“You are upset.”

“You could feel it from your office?”

The young Zilian, the last of her kind, nodded.

Sighing, Sora dropped all pretense and said, “It would have been nice if someone else could have done that speech. Maybe Sister Wuya or something. I hate lying.”

“Your candidate. Your responsibility.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just complaining,” Sora replied, waving away his own words. Luckily, Maira could read expressions well, otherwise she might have taken his gesture as waving her off instead.

“Complaints bring misery. Optimism brings joy.”

Sora sighed. Those words sounded especially heavy coming from Maira’s mouth. After all, her world fell at the hands of Skarr’s King along with his First and Second Pillars of the demon army just because her people had a strong connection to spiritual energy. It was truly unfortunate that Maira was the only one who survived long enough for the Pathfinders to discover her world and raise her into a fine Pathfinder herself. Sora couldn’t retort to her words after thinking about her past and simply said, “Thanks.”

A thin smile spread across Maira’s lips as she said, “You’re welcome.”

The young Zilian quickly returned to her office, likely to finish the final touches on the aspect of the quest system which applied to their candidates. Sora couldn’t help smiling at the pure heart of the young woman and returned to his office. It was time to check on his candidates.