I got off the bus and Ruby followed. "You don't need to escort me to my home now do you?"

"I was not going to, but that's not a bad idea," she clapped with glee in her eyes, like a child who just got an idea for a science project.

"Nope, I'll go alone. Neighbors tagging me as a pedo is the last thing I want."

Ruby bumped shoulders with me coyly, "sheesh, calm your horses hot stuff, calling a stranger girl young and all."

I was flustered by the unexpected accusation of flirting. "Do you seriously think I complimented you or is that your way of retorting?"

She cocked her head in mock confusion, "what are you saying?"

"Fine, you win." I threw up my hands giving up on eliciting an answer.

"Oh," Ruby leaned forward and slipped a business card into my pocket, "give the doc a visit, trust me, you won't regret it."

"Well, Ruby I appreciate the offer but I am not doing bad in the health department, also my aunt is a doctor, she does regular check-ups twice a month." That was a lie, my aunt never really did check-ups, an occasional blood test but that's it. As for my uncle, I didn't even remember the last time I saw his face. In short, I wasn't keen on experiencing another near-death event.

"Please go at least once, helping new Players is his job and if you mention my name you would get a discount."

"If you insist..." I conceded hesitantly.

"Great," with a victorious smile, she flicked her ponytail and marched away without saying another word. My eyes followed her stiffly walking tiny frame until it disappeared over the bend, along with the wide smile plastered on my face.

Objective: Stab Ruby with intent to kill

The objective of my quest flashed in front of me. It was the introduction to the grim world I had entered. Since my earliest memory, I had been an arrogant prick, always being haughty, filled with vanity to the brim, running away from responsibilities. My attitude led to my family splintering, everyone suffered for my mistakes. This was my chance for redemption and repent. I felt a motherly hug around me, a fatherly pat on my back, there was no telling when the game would put their lives on stake, reduced to mere 'objectives' for someone's sick pleasure.

"I don't care if you are a human or a god," I crumpled the business card under my tightened fist, "if you want me to kill Ruby, I'll do it. But remember, that same blade is coming for you."

My hand trembled even while pressing buttons in the elevator. Anxiety and euphoria were visible on my face. An unknown emotion took over me. For better or worse, my hopeless, lonely, redundant, and uneventful life had finally found purpose.

DAY 4

SPLAT! "Shit!" I cursed as I stepped into a receding puddle.

After ten days of rainfall and light showers, the sun had finally decided to greet puny mortals. Unfortunately, I was in my school uniform which I rarely wore. There were few things that my coaching class didn't teach or bother wasting their time on, one of them was laboratory practicals. I had told my aunt that I would be attending my elite education after those but then decided to ditch them.

The sun seemed hell-bent on making up for its recent absence and my navy blue blazer, white shirt, and trousers were making things worse for me. My neck felt sticky and a persistent itch tortured my back. I double-checked the wrinkled card to confirm the address.

With its wide glass doors and a huge road sign displaying Mr. & Mrs. Dua's financial services, the place stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the dense concrete jungle of ramshackle colonial-era buildings, howling dogs, and roads that were abandoned by the municipality a decade ago.

The contrast became starker when I stepped in. The temperature inside was brought low by an AC, a sudden change from the soaring mercury a few seconds ago. I scanned my surroundings which reminded me of every second private clinic in the city. A grumpy receptionist stationed right outside the doctor's office, nine black padded chairs which were far from comfortable arranged in a 3*3 grid, lightly colored walls plastered with plaques, medical certificates, and ads from genric drug agencies. Other than the scent of incense sticks everything else felt familiar.

I wasn't the only visitor, a mother and a son who could have passed as a fourth-grade student occupied the seats in the front row. They seemed fairly normal at first glance until you notice the kid's abnormal behavior. He would point at the ceiling and speak, "mamma, the bubble is beautiful." "Wow," to my surprise the mother indulged with his hallucinations, "it is pretty."

"Can we take it home?"

"No," his face fell with dejection, "just like you have a mamma, bubble also has a mamma. Wouldn't you be sad if someone took mamma away from you?" He nodded as if he could relate to the fictional bubble. After a short pause, the same conversation followed except this time the bubble had a specific color.

I remembered something along similar lines when I was in third grade and obsessed with a stray puppy. My mom had provided the same reasoning, except I digressed and I replied in a 'how can you not understand something so simple' tone, " let's bring the mamma home too. Then puppy and mamma both will be happy, right ma?"

"Ahem. The financial services office has shifted to another location," the receptionist broke my chain of thoughts. The fault laid with me, no one would be happy if some random teen in student uniform barges into your establishment and wordlessly stares at a child like a creep.

"Oh, sorry," I awkwardly trotted towards her desk, "I don't have an appointment but I want to meet the doctor, Ruby recommended him." Her stern expression softened after hearing the familiar name, "go, Doc's waiting for you."

"But--" "Don't worry about them, their session is already over," she immediately cleared my query before I could ask, referring to the mother-son duo.

"Um..." a single person who I assumed was the doctor was swirling half a dozen incense sticks around a tiny Ganesha idol resting on his mahogany table. He would draw multiple smoke circles which lasted for half a second before getting diffused and dispersed. From my position, I could see his balding scalp and a vibrant Hawaiian shirt contrasted with his dark skin tone.

"Oh, Mr.Robin I was waiting for you. Sit, Bas," I grabbed a stool and set it a foot away from his desk before settling down. The entire time I was aware of his sharp and cunning eyes sizing me up. "I am sorry I didn't know you were praying."

A wide smile cracked his wizened face, "Lord Ganesha has been receiving this same treatment every single day for the past two decades, by now it's a routine." He pulled out a rusty holder from a drawer and placed it on a worn-down circle beside the idol and carefully inserted every incense stick.

"Are you religious Mr.Robin?"

"Not really, I lean towards agnosticism."

"And why is that?"

"My mom's an atheist so I inherited a lot of her ideals. Also, religions are illogical, I don't find merit in words written by men in times where a pig's entrails predicted the future, people believed in witches and alchemists, and dissecting dead humans for science was considered evil," I felt his question had more meaning than the literal one.

"So you like to think logically, then there must be something which would make you consider the existence of god?"

"Maybe, if all religions updated themselves to modern standards, and one of them is declared the superior then I might think about it."

"You just contradicted your own point."

"How?"

He chuckled teasingly, "if you are smart, you will figure it out, but I doubt the existence of god is a topic we should be debating about right now."

"I am actually ok with debating. But, Ruby said you can help me and it's my fault but I didn't preplan anything."

"Well there's one question I want to ask, do you think approaching any situation or problem logically is the best route?"

"Yeah, makes the most sense to me."

"What is my ethnicity, use your logic, and give me the correct answer?"

"You used 'bas' before and in Marathi it means 'sit'. Your fashion sense reminds me of the coast so, Goan most likely."

"Full marks for logic. No marks for the answer. I am Afghani by blood and Puneri by heart. Using Marathi words out of nowhere is a habit and this shirt is a gift from my wife, that's why I like it. The problem with logic is, it works only when you have adequate information and skills to process it. Below a certain threshold, using your mind is a waste of time and energy."

"By that, do you mean I should rely on my instincts?"

"I mean, stop looking at the world as a mathematical problem. You are a Player now, you have entered a dimension that defies human knowledge and logic at levels you can't even imagine. Of course, there's nothing wrong with being smart, in fact, I encourage using intelligence, but learn to trust your heart, because that's going to make the difference."

I nodded, even though I didn't have the slightest idea what to make out of his words but his tone resembled mine when I worked as an unofficial career consultant for my juniors, they trusted my words more than those of counselors mostly because I wasn't trying to please their parents' sensibilities and wouldn't spew words soaking with formalities and topped by jargons.

"Any questions from your side Mr.Robin?"

"It's not really a question, but what advice would you give to a new Player."

"I hope Robin you understand that intel doesn't come for free and that's my business. We wouldn't even be having this meeting if not for my own selfish curiosity and a favor I owed Ruby. You are a rare case, normally a Player is chosen when they are in their early teens and sometimes even before pre-teens, but there aren't many like you. Quests are a battle of wits, strength, and will between Players and the best way you can develop your Trigger. The more power and experience you gain, the higher the chance of survival. Since most solo Players are chosen at an early age you have got a lot of catching up to do. Every successive quest becomes harder, so intricately designed that more often than not would result in a fight to the death and at this stage, your opponents would either be literal or veterans whose powers and intentions are beyond your scope. I recommend joining a clan, safety in numbers as they always say."

"Why does someone have to die, can't we talk it out or find a solution or compromise which works for all parties?"

He laughed heartily, like a grandfather entertained by his toddler grandchild's innocent naivety. "Fate is cruel, crueler than anything in the world. Doesn't matter how good of a Player you are, you will die either from your hand or someone else's."

I let out a deep sigh, I had steeled myself for anything, but with every passing second, I couldn't shake off the feeling similar to a noose tightening around my neck.

"Are you part of a clan Doc?"

"Nope, I am a free soul," the sentence might sound harmless but I interpreted it as, "back in my younger days, runts like you were my breakfast." Never-ever mess with Doc, I noted in my internal memo.

"I don't mean to pry, but what happened to that kid?"

"Human minds are unbelievably fickle, sometimes it can't comprehend the existence or presence of a Trigger and the mind either ignores it or tries to find ways to erase its existence. In worst cases, the Player would die from self-inflicted harm. Ironically, that's the only way to escape the game except death of course."

"Thanks Doc, it was nice meeting you."

"The pleasure is mine Mr.Robin." We exchanged a firm handshake. Half of the incense sticks had burnt out.

I halted in my tracks, just about to leave the room. "Hey, Doc, I am related to your quest, right?"

"How did you know that?" His mouth fell open and stared back at me with a dumbfounded expression.

"If you are smart, you will figure it out."