The cafe Monica had chosen was on the outskirts of the city. Sera took the autocar to a maglev station, then rode the maglev to the nearest stop before walking the short distance to the cafe.

It was a humble establishment on the outside. There were neon stamps of paw prints on the sidewalk all the way up to the entrance which had a large cat in an alcove by the door—a white maneki neko with a beckoning paw swinging from its shoulder—and a screen displaying opening times, upcoming events and photos of the cats that lived in the cafe. Sera stood in front of the screen and it immediately switched to an appointment confirmation page. She selected hers and Monica’s slot from the screen, which changed to display that her friend had already checked in.

“Hello, welcome to Kittilicious. Please sign the waiver for allergies, injuries and damages before entering. Don’t be nervous, we have never had customers experience major injuries, though a cat encounter may result in small nips or scratches if the cat feels harassed. Usually nothing ever happens except that you have a Kittiliciously good time.” The voice recording sounded from the maneki neko. Sera peered behind it and made out a small speaker to the rear of the cat. “The waiver can be accessed from the screen.”

Sera signed the waiver and pressed enter. Immediately the front door clicked as it unlocked to let her in. She stepped through into a small square area. On her right was another second door made of glass that opened into the cafe proper. Sera passed through that as well.

“Good meowning!” said a waitress as she looked up at Sera, then checked the tablet in her hands. She looked young enough to still be in college or university and wore a cute blue dress with a lacy white apron and cat ears on a hair band in her curly dark hair. “Oh wait, it’s afternoon already. I usually take the earlier shift,” she added by way of explanation. “Anyway, good fluffternoon! Miss Sera Ramond I presume? This way please, Miss Bayer is awaiting you.”

She led Sera through the cafe, pointing out the coffee bar, the cat playpen, the rules, and the various posters on the wall that described individual cat personalities and behaviour. By the time they reached the table Monica was sitting at, Sera had learned not to speak too loudly, not to try to pick up any of the cats and not to use flash photography. The waitress seemed to be constantly distracted, pausing occasionally to give a customer advice on approaching a cat or to let Sera know which of the cats was having a good day or a bad one. It left Sera with no doubt that she was an actual human and she smiled sympathetically when the waitress paused mid-explanation to make a face at the sight of a hairball that a cat had coughed up in a corner.

“..so please place your orders via the screen. If you have any problems, press this button here and one of us will be with you as soon as possible.” The waitress gave them both a grin before leaving. “Enjoy!”

Monica was sitting at a table behind several potted plants, and at a short distance from the playpen. There was an alcove beside the table on which a fat marmalade tabby cat lay, its white furry belly stretched out for Monica to scratch. Sera gave Monica a hug, then patted the cat on its head as greeting.

“It’s so good to see you again! You look well! I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding this place?” Monica said as Sera sat down and removed her jacket and face mask. The air in the shop was fresher than the air in the rest of the city though it did smell like cat.

“Not at all,” Sera replied with a smile. It was nice to see her friend after so long. She hadn’t yet had any visitors since she moved to the outer suburbs and she was missing company.

They exchanged some more small talk while waiting for their refreshments to be served. Then Monica, who was never one to delay cutting to the chase, brought up Gilbert’s strange messages.

“About those messages,” she began. “I think I know where they’re coming from.” She regarded Sera carefully. “When Gilbert passed away, he left a lot of things behind in Elysium. One of them was a major kingdom in Elysia. When more players started playing the game and they released the second expansion, they had to incorporate Gamemasters to smooth over any problems players got into, either as a result of their own foolishness in trying to bend or break the rules or as a result of the way the game functions. Gilbert was one of them. His character ruled over Freyhelm in the North. When he died, the other Gamemasters were worried that the entire kingdom and the players who lived or passed through it would be put at risk.”

“Elysia can be dangerous for those who are inexperienced or vulnerable. There are jerks who get off on preying on other players, of course. That’s a constant problem. But if you’re unlucky, you might also be trapped in a peculiar pocket of the world where you may be killed repeatedly due to some quirk in the terrain or setting. Some players—most often the ones who are soloing—can’t get out of such situations and need to be rescued,” Monica continued by way of explanation. She sounded a little impersonal, as if she was speaking to a client at work, but Sera was too interested to care.

“Usually the neuronodes detect critical levels of arousal and disconnect automatically before any real damage is done. But sometimes… due to other players not following the rules or a glitch in the system, it doesn’t work out. That’s when Gamemasters step in. Its bad for the company if playing the game messes with people’s psyches even if they’ve signed the waiver. And then there’s the old folk who begin playing just to try it out and end up dying from heart attacks. They usually don’t know what they’re getting into until they’re in the game, because of the physical aspect of it, you know. It’s so realistic.”

Sera, took a bite of her bacon and ham sandwich and nodded, understanding what Monica meant perfectly. She chewed her mouthful viciously, recalling the pain and fear she had experienced just hours ago. She knew a more experienced player than herself would probably not have had any trouble in the same situation, but all the same, if she hadn’t found a way to get out of the trench and hadn’t been pre-exposed to Elysia through word-of-mouth from Gilbert and their friends, she might have fled the game and not looked back.

“Anyway, after Gilbert left there was a scramble to find a new Gamemaster for his territory. But when they checked the system, it became obvious that his duties had been more or less taken over by a superbot that he’d trained to handle all the common issues. It’s apparently quite exceptional, better than anything they’ve seen before—you know Gilbert had a real talent for programming.” Monica paused to take a bite of her tiramisu cake. She gazed at Sera anxiously as she chewed, then took a sip of green tea latte.

Sera nodded again, suppressing a twinge of pain at the memories that surfaced in her mind. Gilbert had indeed been very gifted and passionate about programming and machine learning. It had been what drew her to him at first, that gleam in his eye when he waxed lyrical over his newest project.

“Well, I heard from the grapevine that it’s worked well enough as his replacement that they’re not in a big hurry to substitute it with a real person. Though sometimes it does require some prompting, especially if it needs to work with a real Gamemaster. I expect that’s what those messages are about. The superbot was simply being notified of issues that needed to be handled within its territory by another Gamemaster.”

“I see,” Sera sighed. It had been crazy—and she hadn’t realised it then—but… the sight of the messages being read in real time on Gilbert’s account, which had been so securely guarded, had awakened a sense of hope in her. Somehow at the back of her numb mind, probably fueled by her aching heart, she had built a pipe dream about Gilbert somehow, somewhere, still being alive.

But that was all it had been. A dream.

The hollow pain she had thought she had managed to quell began to fill her again, now that her hopes were revealed to be baseless. She lifted her cup and pretended to take a long sip of coffee to cover the wavering of her lips as she collected herself. Finally, when she felt more under control, she set the cup down with a clink. “Well, that’s a relief.”

A short silence reigned between them. Monica snuck glances at Sera as she ate, obviously debating what to say next, while Sera pretended to gaze with interest at the cats in the playpen. The tabby in the alcove meowed and stood up. It yawned expressively, exposing the sharp tips of its teeth, and stepped sedately into Sera’s lap before curling up into a ball like it had every right to be there. Despite herself, Sera broke into a smile. She gently rubbed behind the affectionate tabby’s ears while it purred. It felt good to touch something warm and furry and full of life.

That was it.

Sera sucked in a deep, steadying breath as an idea occurred to her.

Life had to go on didn’t it. Gilbert was gone, but she still had to live and find ways to be happy. Sera suddenly realised what it was she wanted to do with all the free time she had on her hands now.

“Actually, I’ve been dabbling in Elysia, I got a free trial after just looking at an ad, can you believe that, and I think… I think I really like it there,” she glanced up at Monica, catching the look of astonishment on her friends face. “I think I want to give it a real go.”

“Really? But I thought… I thought you weren’t interested in exploring virtual worlds! Remember, I offered to bring you to…” Monica blushed slightly and lowered her voice, glancing around at the nearby tables, “…to the Oasis that one time? You wouldn’t budge an inch. What changed your mind?”

Sera struggled to stop her lips from curling into a smile. The Oasis was a reverse harem game that Monica had discovered two years or so ago and had fallen utterly in love with. She had been so obsessed with it that she had wanted to drag Sera into it too by tempting her with pictures and whispered reconstructions of scenarios she had experienced. But while Sera had enjoyed the voyeurism, the game hadn’t felt appropriate for her. It was all right for Monica since she was a self-professed bachelorette who didn’t want to ever get married, but a virtual relationship on top of what she had with Gilbert? It didn’t seem right.

“I just… it’s amazing. Better than what I thought it would be,” Sera said with a shrug. How could she describe the sensations? The detail? The knowledge that a whole world, a new and untarnished one, was laid out at her feet, ready for her to explore? Monica of all people should understand. She was an old hand at VR gaming after all. “I think I was too hasty in dismissing it. Gilbert didn’t push me into trying and now I feel… like I missed out.”

“You’re not—” Monica’s eyes widened and she stared at Sera anxiously. “I mean, you shouldn’t—”

“No, no, this is totally not about him,” Sera said quickly, waving her hands. The tabby meowed indignantly and she went back to patting it. “It’s about me. It’s about what I think I’d like to do. I have all this money now and… you know how I’ve never had any time to just stop and relax. I need a break and I think Elysia is the best place I can go to get it.”

“So… what are you planning?”

“I need time to get into the game. I’m such a noob at the moment,” Sera said, recalling the player who had yelled and shoved her. “I’m going to go all in. I’m talking—”

“You’re talking deep immersion,” Monica finished for her. Her beautiful sea green eyes looked worried and a frown marred the smooth skin of her forehead. “I don’t know, Sera… you’re a nice girl, Elysia’s full of you know… young men and boys who won’t stop for anything in their way. It’s all about leveling, killing monsters, and—”

“What makes you think I can’t do that?” Sera said with an arched brow. Monica had only met her and gotten to know her as Gilbert’s wife before they became friends in their own right, and Sera had been careful not to speak too much of her life… before. Now that Gilbert was gone, she felt her old self clawing back to the surface. The harder, untempered Sera who didn’t have someone precious to hold back for. Who had nothing else to lose.

Something in her tone must have helped convey it all to Monica. Her friend looked at her thoughtfully and tapped her chin. “Of course you could, if you really wanted to,” she said, backing down. “I assume you’re talking months then? You’ll need a personal neuropod if you want non-stop immersion.”

Sera’s eyes widened and dismay began to shake her conviction. Personal neuropods took from weeks to months to arrive since they usually had to be pre-ordered. Large businesses always had an upper hand given that they ordered them in bulk. “Ah… I didn’t think of that.”

Monica waved her hand dismissively. “Leave it to me, I’ll get one delivered to you by the day after tomorrow.”

“What?” Sera exclaimed. “But how?”

“There are perks to being the CEO’s daughter,” Monica said with a wink. “There has to be with all the work I do on the side,” she said grumpily. “Talk about a family business. It’s more business than family, sometimes.”

Sera smiled gratefully and reached out to take Monica’s hand. Her friend was pure gold. “Tell me all about it,” she said, and they fell into the familiar pattern of conversation they usually had whenever they met up.

***

Monanica: Hey, Zoidberg. Are you there?

Jordan frowned and ignored the message littering his view. He was in a middle of a dungeon raid, damnit! He finished his spell and watched as it streamed from his fingers to join the incantations from the other mages. The pooled magic took on the shape of a bird resembling a phoenix, except that it looked skeletal and its feathers were a toxic blackish green. The bird flew up above the boss’s head, spread its wings and began to rain glowing green fire down onto him and his minions. It burnt holes in his armadillo-like armour, decimating a good chunk of his health over time and killing a few of his spawn who happened to be nearby. The boss roared and stomped the ground, then lowered his head and flung out a series of jagged scales from his back. New hatchlings burst through the cracks in the floor and began charging at them while the boss released a powerful ear-shattering roar. Jordan dodged between the waves of scales, but couldn’t avoid the sonic impact. It hit him like a physical wall.

Blood began to drip from his nose and he staggered to hide behind a pillar on shaky legs as Elronin, a Paladin who had newly joined their group, charged past him, leading a second wave of tanks. Elronin and another tank pulled the boss’s attention while three others began fighting the minions and another team sneaked around to the back of the boss. Together, they provided enough distraction for the first wave of tanks to dart back and withdraw. Jordan moved further back too as minions who’d gotten loose trailed behind the retreating tanks. Archers helped to pick them off, while a group of mages sent spells at the boss and the newly spawned minions to slow them down. Green light limned the retreating fighters as healers quickly sent healing spells at them. A glow temporarily enveloped Jordan and he lifted his arm in thanks to Nimue, who spared him a thumbs up before she turned back to watch Elronin.

Monanica: Hey.

Jordan alternated between observing the movements of the various groups and tracking the progress of his mana being replenished. As soon as it hit the threshold he began to weave his next spell to kite the monster again. Another wave of attacks thundered past and he ducked behind another pillar.

Monanica: Hey.

His attention wavered but Jordan gritted his teeth and ignored it. The first boss had retreated, giving way to a second one that fell from the ceiling in a ‘surprise’ attack amid an eruption of new minions that burst out of the ground. The new boss also had scales like the first boss, but they were interspersed with rows of sharp spikes that gave it an almost furry look. It slammed its tail down and swept it around in a spin that broke the players ranks. Scrambling to re-organise, the tanks swapped again just before the new boss released a wave of spikes and scales that punched through the front lines and bled through to the second. He then curled up and began to roll about the dungeon, scattering players yet again.

The healers went into a healing frenzy while they tried to sort through the chaos and keep the current front-liner’s healths high enough for them to take their turn while not allowing the retreating players to die from their critically decimated health. Already a few had succumbed, their corpses laying where they’d fallen into a dirt nap. The archers and mages were running out of health too. Jordan began chanting under his breath. He exchanged signals with the mage on the other side of the dungeon and prepared to take his turn to cast his spell.

Monanica: Hey!

Just a few more seconds… he told himself, trying his best to stay focused.

Monanica: Hey, if you don’t reply to me, I’m going to tell your mom you’re still sneaking time in Elysia after you failed two of your mid-terms.

Jordan’s attention wavered and his spell fizzled out.

The mage’s spell zoomed out towards the second boss, momentarily paralysing him and a chunk of his minions for a few precious seconds. The tanks leaped forward to attack, but without Jordan’s support, the damage was not enough.

Shit, shit, shit, Jordan cursed and tried to rescue his spell. But it was too late. The dregs had disappeared and if he wanted to recast it, he’d have to start from the beginning.

The tanks began to swap again, but the boss didn’t retreat or slow in its pursuit of the front players. Worse, the first boss made a reappearance, its health newly recovered. He released another ear-shattering scream and together with the second boss, began to thrash both sets of players, sending them flying left right and center. Without anyone to hold their minions in check, the spawn charged forward in packs, jumping and swarming like locusts. Jordan’s heart skipped a beat as he saw Nimue fall under three savage creatures with segmented bodies and too many legs, her horrified screams echoing above the clicking of their pincers. Something hit him from the side and he felt the flesh tear at the bottom of his neck.

A minute later, his vision spun, then bounced. He stared at what was left of his body, it’s severed neck pumping dark blood onto the floor in an expanding puddle that bled into the grooves of the dungeon floor to join the other dark streams from the fallen players.

Critical damage. You have died.

The group speech stream—which Jordan had dialed low since he had already memorised their strategy and it sometimes distracted him while fighting—became so loud and vehement that it sounded like the buzzing of angry bees. Jordan’s stomach curdled. Most of the swearing was aimed at him, and he knew he deserved it. He switched it lower, then turned it off as he read through the new message that had popped up.

Monanica: Hey! Are you ignoring me?

Jordan snarled. It was his aunt. It was all her fault! He responded furiously.

Incinderfella: WTF!? You just got me killed! I’ve been trying to get in on this raid for days! My team was counting on me! What on earth could be so important that you’d…

Monanica: I need to pull in that favour you owe me. Remember? The really BIG one?

Jordan froze. His spirit had appeared sitting in one of the pews of the church he’d chosen to respawn too—thankfully none of his team had chosen it too—and now he slumped back in it, his head lifted to stare up at the vaulted ceiling. His breathing, which had come fast and shallow during the fight and after his death, stuttered to a stop. He paused, flashes of conflicted thought and feeling running through him. Finally, he sighed and drew in a deep breath before letting it out in a slow hiss. Closing his eyes, he replied.

Incinderfella: Fine. What is it?

When he opened his eyes again, the words were scrawled across his vision without him needing to type anything. His node was so well synced to him it could probably read his memories and change his personality into a real life evil kenivel death lord if it wanted to, if, of course, it had any A.I remotely attached to it. Which it didn’t, Jordan was almost a hundred percent sure.

Monanica: I have a friend… she’s going to deep dive into Elysia, but she’s never really played before. I want you to take care of her. Make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble.

Incinderfella: Are you kidding me? I’m not a babysitter. Wait. What kind of friend?

Jordan harboured a quick fantasy. His aunt was drop dead gorgeous (for her age) and hung out with a huge variety of women… He knew from seeing the online society streams that some of them were stunning, young and famous… a few were even in their early twenties, which was at least somewhat close to his age.

Monanica: She’s a new widow =_=

Incinderfella: Oh. So not interested. Why don’t you do it yourself?

Monanica: Can’t. No time, too busy at work. Am supposed to be working right now actually. She shouldn’t be that lame or anything, I think, so it won’t be too much of a hassle. Just an hour or two a day to check up on her (in between your studies!), that kind of thing.

Incinderfella: Nope.

Monanica: You. Owe. Me.

Incinderfella: …how about something else?

Monanica: I’m running to Melissa….

Incinderfella: I’m not underage. Mom can’t stop me.

Monanica: Then I’ll let your friends know about what happened in that harem… what was it you told that MAN again? Oh yeah, and after just two meetings… you said, ‘Hey babe, wanna come over IRL? I got some lov—”

Incinderfella: Fine. One session.

Monanica: No. First 30 levels.

Incinderfella: You gotta be kidding me! That will take weeks if not months, if she’s useless. Maybe even years if she’s especially pathetic. No deal.

Monanica: I’ve got some filter-less snapshots of you two riiiiight here, in all kinds of interesting positions. He’s kind of a brawny guy isn’t he? You make an odd couple without the persona-filters. Personally, I think his skirt is a little tooooo short, wouldn’t you say? You can almost see—

Incinderfella: Seriously??? You’re blackmailing me? Your own NEPHEW? You know I was the victim in that situation, right? I still have nightmares, man…

Monanica: I know you had no idea who he was, but you sure weren’t a victim, dear nephew of mine. And I’m not blackmailing you. I’m just pulling in a favour at the moment. If you co-operate, these pictures and any history between you two will completely disappear. I helped you cover it up and I’ll make sure it all stays that way.

The unspoken words, ‘If you help me’ floated between the two of them, unwritten but still understood. Jordan sighed. He knew his favourite aunt most likely wouldn’t totally condemn him if he refused—she’d hold back on the steamier screenshots, even if she blabbed the story—but the fact that she was using them to call in her favour meant that this was something important to her.

Incinderfella: Fine. First 5 levels. If there had been a physical keyboard in front of him, he would have been punching the keys.

Monanica: 20.

Incinderfella: 10.

Monanica: Deal.

Jordan groaned.

Incinderfella: If she’s pathetic, I’m out, just so you know.

Monanica: If she’s pathetic after you’ve had a hand in training her, someone should kick your ass.

Jordan smiled at the hint of confidence his aunt had in him.