After paying for a respec, I went to the tavern to relax while adjusting my action bars, inventory, and gear. In the time I’d been a healer, my Arterial Slash skill had gone up a level and increased how much bleeding damage it did. While Feral Bite had a chance to inflict a disease status when used. My stealth ability also leveled, making it more difficult to be spotted by a ranger’s flare. Even though I was in a DPS spec, I received an instant full heal ability with a sixty-minute cooldown.

With the task of cleaning my interface finished, I sent a message to Angel, asking if she’d be willing to join the group again for some leveling after dinner. It would have been smarter to do that before I respecced, but I never claimed to be a genius. Nor have I ever claimed forethought was one of my natural abilities.

Her response that she was all for it came nearly instantly, but only as soon as she finished with the client she was entertaining. Now that the cat was out of the bag about her chosen profession, she was more than open about it. Proud even. And more than happy to chat while she was otherwise indisposed. Impressive that she was able to carry out two completely opposing tasks. Banal conversation and whatever was happening with the client.

I still hadn’t asked her if she had a dick, but even I have some tact sometimes. Especially with those kinds of questions. Last thing I wanted was to shame someone over their gender identity. It would be pretty shitty of me to call her out if this was the only way she could truly be herself.

Bored and restless at what I considered my table, nestled under the watchful eye of the griffon’s head, I checked friend finder to see where the rest of the party was hiding. Cale was at the blacksmith, still trying to finish some badass sword he’d gotten the schematics for.

Okay, so I didn’t check for the full party, just Cale. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, it’s that life experience taught me the people you care for hurt you the most. It’s partly why I’d avoided having any serious relationships. There’d been a few flings here and there, but I’d kept them at a distance. In fact, most of them never even came to my house. I’d kept a huge part of myself hidden.

If I really thought about it, the last time someone called me their girlfriend—a term I wasn’t exactly fond of—was in elementary school and I was in the first grade. I’d just left the principal’s office for the second time that day after putting gum in the snobby bitch's hair that sat in front of me. It was then that I noticed a sobbing mess of a boy with a tear stained t-shirt. He was curled up on a bench outside the office door. He introduced himself as Salvo and, between hiccups, told me that a pudgy little fuckhead third grader named Billy Dwyer stole his lunchbox. It hadn’t been the food he was crying about; it was the lunchbox itself. He’d saved up his own money by mowing lawns and doing random chores for neighbors to buy it.

So, I did what came naturally and beat the shit out of the bully until he agreed to give the lunchbox back. Not only did I get a week's vacation from school that time, but I’d made a friend for life. When my mandated break was over, I discovered he’d told everyone that I was his girlfriend. Which was fine in the long run. It meant people left the scrawny kid alone from then on.

It wasn’t long before he dropped the term girlfriend and just called me his sister, which was closer to what we’d become in a very short amount of time. Later, throughout high school, I watched him break the hearts of girls and boys alike. The nights he was out with his latest conquests, I discovered how to channel my anger and frustrations into paint, clay, and whatever other medium I could get my hands on. From then on, my trips to the principal’s office grew close to non-existent.

My first, and only date in high school had been with a jock who tried forcing me to fuck him. He went back to school the next day with a broken jaw and two cracked ribs. Thankfully, he’d been too ashamed to call authorities, but he had to have told his friends what happened. From then on, it was next to impossible to find someone interested in me.

In college, I took Viv under my wing and focused on keeping the overly naïve woman out of trouble.

So, maybe I have a pattern. Protect others to protect myself.

I’m not a saint though. When I met Cale, I can’t say there’d been any clues about how things would turn out between us. In fact, probably the opposite. If I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t exactly fair in how I treated him. It’s horrible to admit, but I saw that he could help me get a better grade in a class I’d have surely failed in otherwise. Also, he had a thing for me, even socially distant me could tell that much. So, I used him for a few months. Giggled at his jokes and gave him shy little smiles whenever I could. Once we got to know each other, I genuinely grew to care about him as a friend, but that didn’t ease any of the guilt I felt and still feel.

All that was in the past. I could tell him and risk wrecking what we’d formed together. But would he even care? It's not like it happened a few months ago.

If I told him anything, maybe it should be that I liked the thought of moving our fling into our daily lives outside of the resort. I really didn’t want him thinking this was a holiday rendezvous. Once this nightmare was over, we’d start fresh in Vegas Land and who knew what would happen.

My mind played snippets of prospective lives together. Each fantasy, variations of distinct possibilities with one uniting element: neither of us worked at Vegas Land. My brain was trying to tell me something I was already aware of but still hadn’t fully grasped. If I went to Vegas Land to work, I’d be more than miserable.

I put my head in my hands and groaned. It didn’t really matter what I wanted. That part of my future was already set in stone.

A little shriek of surprise left me as someone wrapped me in an embrace from behind.

Of course, it was Cale, who kissed my neck before sitting beside me. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yeah, just thinking about Vegas Land,” I said, hoping he would tell me it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought. Maybe even working there was great once I got to know everyone.

Instead, he made a sour expression and took my hand, sandwiching it between his.

If the conversations over the span of our friendship told me anything, it was just as bad as I suspected. Maybe worse, since he wasn’t sharing any details.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what are your plans? Once this dies down and we go back to our boring lives in Vegas Land, I mean.” His finger moved to adjust glasses that weren’t on his elven face.

I shrugged. “I put a deposit down on a little apartment. Other than that-”

Angel ran up to our table and cut me off. “Change in plans. The CEO of Eternia is about to give a press conference. I’m going to log off and watch it. Think it might have something to do with the whole…” She glanced around us nervously and lowered her head closer. “The you know what situation.”

“Hey,” Cale said, visibly uncomfortable, and put an arm around me. I wasn’t sure if it was to make Angel understand how things changed, to help with any doubts I might have, or to make himself feel better. Either way, I didn’t protest.

“Thanks, Angel,” I said as she waved and logged off. “We should go too. Meet you in the suite? I’m going to send Salvo a message in case he doesn’t know.”

The chair Elvira had materialized in during the horror marathon Cale and I had watched with her, spun on a silent platform until the back faced us. The HoloHome system engaged and the white armchair shifted into a desk. Behind it sat the most average looking man possible. After decades of outrage over editorial slip-ups by human newscasters, all channels replaced their anchors with a digital representation of the average man and woman, nicknamed Average Joe and Normal Norma. Because of the lighting on the render, their skin tone was an indeterminate shade with brown hair and dark eyes. They represented no single race or nation. Their only purpose was to report the news.

Average Joe smiled at us and spoke. “Thank you for joining me. Tonight we have a special news announcement brought to you by Las Vegas World Gaming and Resorts. In a few moments, Richard Bouchard, the CEO of Eternia Entertainment, will join the press cameras to release a statement. While we wait for the main event to begin, please enjoy this history of Eternia Entertainment.” The hologram turned to face the television while the feature played.

Video footage of a much younger Richard Bouchard and his father, Leo, played catch in a suburban backyard while a calming male voice provided context. We watched as Leo broke ground on the new studio facilities, as Richard spoke at his father’s funeral after a fatal heart attack, as Richard cut the ribbon and dedicated the building in his father’s honor. Footage of him meeting diehard fans of Eternia’s flagship series, Dire Dynasty. His enormous smile and emerald eyes never faltered. Only grew more intense as time went on. The last footage they had time for was of the announcement of Age of Arcadia. A teenage Leland, bored and annoyed, stood beside his father, just as a younger Richard had stood beside Leo. The difference between their expressions as teens was noticeable. Richard had idolized his father. Leland looked disgusted.

“We’re now moving live to the announcement. Norma, how do things look on your end?”

Normal Norma smiled from the television and held two fingers to her ears. The digital representation didn’t need to pretend like she couldn’t hear well, but they scripted it to appear more human. The effect was off-putting. “Thank you, Joe. A crowd has gathered outside of the headquarters for Eternia Entertainment to hear what Mr. Bouchard has to say this evening. What they seem most interested in, Joe, is whether Mr. Bouchard will address the rumors that have been circulating about players in Age of Arcadia falling victim to faulty code. I’m being told there’s movement, it appears we’re ready to begin.”

While we had our attention fixed on the television, the hologram of Average Joe reshaped itself to a podium with the two stylized E’s of the Eternia Entertainment logo. As the shape of Richard Bouchard stepped towards the podium on the television, he materialized behind the holographic podium, tapping twice on the microphone before speaking.

His bright green eyes ringed in shades of red and gray. The smile still held, but strained. He spoke passionately about what Eternia meant to him and the fans of their franchises. About the strides they’d made in the gaming world, and how much further they could go.

When the cheers of the people present faded, so did his smile. He took a deep breath and continued, “And that brings me to why I called the meeting today. Until recently, I’ve been kept in the dark about the strange occurrences happening within the Age of Arcadia. For those not yet aware, a figure of unknown origin is attacking other players. These players have fallen into a coma-like state. We have dealt with those who allowed this to continue unchecked. They are no longer with the company.”

Mr. Bouchard frowned into the camera, taking a moment to collect himself before continuing, “My first instinct was to pull the plug on the project. Let Age of Arcadia fade away to prevent further victims. But my son, Leland, brought to my attention how much the community has grown in the short time we’ve been live and what it means to the people within it. So, instead of calling it quits, I’m calling for help. There will be a new option within game to provide any information you may have on the attacker. We’ve created a full team to handle these tips along with a new website providing real-time updates and any further information as it comes to light. Finally, there will be rich rewards for any who help put a stop to this madness.” Mr. Bouchard opened his mouth to say something more but shook his head before turning and walking away.

The podium melted and reformed into Average Joe’s desk again. “We here at Nothing But News Network will keep you up to date as we hear more. Thank you for tuning in.”

Cale hit the power button on the remote and we stared at each other in silence.

“Fuck,” I said, running my fingers across the overgrown hair on the sides of my head. “He’s confirming it.”

“We need to look at that website and check out who got fired recently from the company. It would make sense that whoever was covering it up might have had something to do with it.”

I could see his logic, but shrugged. “Maybe. But if they’re public relations people, weren’t they just doing their job?”

“There’s doing your job and then there’s neglecting to be a human. Either they’re straight up psychopaths or they’re in on it. I’d bet anything.”

While he searched for a list of names, I peeked into Salvo’s room to see if he was wandering around, but there’d been no movement.

“Maybe he didn’t get my message,” I said and sat back down beside Cale.

He snorted. “He probably got it, just didn’t care. They were in a room at the inn when I spoke with him earlier. I asked when they planned on meeting up at the tavern and he said they’d be running late. They’d booked the room for a few hours. I’m surprised he divulged that much.”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised he didn’t get into the lurid details. Like what position he was in…”

“That’s because he knows I won’t listen. You humor him too much,” he said, not looking away from his computer until he found the website Mr. Bouchard had spoken of and whistled through his teeth as he read.

I leaned into him to get a better look at his screen. My head grew a little too light as my eyes skimmed the page. “Six hundred thousand credits to the person or persons responsible for the apprehension of those accountable? We’d never have to go to Vegas Land. Even splitting it evenly for a full party of six, we could pay off our debts and our parent’s debt and have enough left over to go wherever we want.”

“We as in…” He let the sentence hang in the air and crossed his arms.

“You and I, dumbass,” I said and kissed his cheek. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

He exhaled loudly and relaxed his shoulders. “All right, well, let’s get on with it and solve this mystery then.” The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he typed.

I pulled out my phone and texted Mark about the press conference. He’d already seen it but thanked me, anyway. His lawyer was busy drawing up the paperwork for a lawsuit against Eternia. I had a feeling he expected the announcement and was part of the reason he’d thrown so much money at Viv’s care. He let me know he’d finally tracked down DawnSt4r and had her transferred to the hospital. Or, more precisely, Dawn Stratton. I’d have to go see her later to thank her. Well… thank her comatose body at least.

Cale said, “I couldn’t find anything with the names of the employees who’d gotten fired from Eternia recently, but thankfully, when you fire public relations people, they don’t let it go without telling the world about it.” He’d found a webpage, aptly named, Fuck Eternia and Fuck Ricky Bouchard. There wasn’t a lot of information, mainly crappy memes created by a disgruntled ex-employee.

“It doesn’t seem like they’re the assassin,” I said after seeing an image of Richard Bouchard with drawn on devil horns and scribbled red eyes. The words, It’s Not Your Job to Bother Him. Fires You When You Don’t Bother Him, written on the top and bottom.

“No, but he might have more information, I’ll send him a message. Eternia probably already grilled him about it but I’m hoping he was pissed enough to leave something out to spite them.”

“Do that and let’s get back in-game. We need to get high enough level to defend ourselves if the bastard attacks us again.”

He nodded, engrossed in his typing, until I stood to return to my pod, dropping the robe I’d worn over the haptic suit. The rapid-fire thudding of fingers striking keycaps stopped long enough to give my exposed butt cheek a light squeeze.

The tavern was back to the hive of commotion I’d seen on my first visit. The announcement had breathed new life into the game for everyone. I found an empty table and listened to the conversations happening around me. Each one was about what they would do with the reward, who they thought the static assassin was, and how they could stop it.

The waitress, an elven redhead with the handle GingerSn4p, interrupted my thoughts to take my order.

“Waiting for the rest of my party. So just black coffee for now. Thanks.” While she nodded and left, I brought up my keyboard.

Ri0tGrrl: Tavern ASAP. Shit went down. You need to know what happened while you’ve been fuckin.

V4mpyrL0rd: On our way

That was Salvo speak for we’ll get there in ten minutes or more. I drank my coffee while I waited, sending a message to Angel and Ice9 who’d finally logged on. They both agreed to meet.

By the time we were all gathered around the table, everyone had new ideas about where to start and what to do next. We finally agreed on getting as many daily quests as we could for six person raids and running those. Our loot would be far better than normal, and we’d get the added experience from the quests.

We also formed a guild, Bookhouse Boys, after discovering quite a few of us shared a love for the old show Twin Peaks. The guild opened up a whole new side of the game we hadn’t been aware of, global leaderboards for each guild's ranking.

With everything settled, we ordered our dinner and enjoyed our last night of casual gameplay before it had to become work.