>YOU HAVE DIED

>... … …

>PLAY AGAIN?

>

Kitano felt safe in her dreams. Safe. Warm. Players didn’t often sleep during their adventures in Herald of Tomorrow, but then again, they usually didn’t lose consciousness either.

In her dreams, she stopped Stephan Rose before Grandeur burned away. In her dreams, his ghost drove the lightning pain away from Stephan’s touch. In her dreams, it was the real city of Seaside that hosted the Seneschal Festival. Rain fell in Seaside for the first time in a hundred years, washing away a hundred years of Earth Empire rule. In her dreams, it was her true body that soared the streets like a ghost.

Kitano sat up with a jolt. Laying close to the hearth, the warmth woke her brutally from her cold and rainy dreams. This is Grandeur’s inn, she realized. How did I get back here? Memories of Underworld 30 came flooding back.

>Welcome back to the land of Yusmar, the Black Realm.

The inn was quiet. By the light filtering in through the window, she could see that morning had come. An orange sun crossed the horizon, drying up the rain from the night before.

I slept all night. Sleeping in the game was not unheard of for hardcore role-players, but Kitano preferred her own bed. As she straightened, she could feel an old pinched muscle ache. A chronic pain, but not one her virtual avatar should feel… unless.

>Menu>Check-squ

>Heart rate… BASELINE

>Blood pressure… BASELINE

>Body temperature… BASELINE

>Synchronized… 87%

>

Eighty-seven percent? She felt dazed all of a sudden, as though her physical and virtual bodies were colliding into one another.

Time to get out of here, she thought. That reboot better be out of my system, or Juice is going to get it… She adjusted her sleeve, tapping the bare patch of skin just below her wrist.

>Menu>Quit to Console

>Permission denied

>Please contact support

>

Kitano shook her head and tried again.

>Menu>Quit to Console

>Permission denied

>Please contact support

>

That doesn’t make sense.

>Menu>Developer-kq>Command: Force Quit

>Permission denied

>Please contact support

>

This really doesn’t make any sense! Running her fingers through her hair, Kitano tried in vain to grab the straps holding the VR headset in place… Only to find she could not find it. When she tried to move her hands, only her virtual hands would move.

She trembled.

>Menu>Developer-kq>Command: Legacy Sych On

>Permission denied

>Unauthorized user

>Please contact support

>

“What the hell…” she muttered. Someone is messing with me. Her thoughts grew darker by the moment. Stephan did this to me….

>Menu>Developer-kq>Authorization: /k/19ddO9I4Nw9b1_gcG2>Command: Force Quit

>... Failed...

>Command: Inspect virtual safety package

>Permission denied

>Unauthorized user

>Please contact support

>

“Is someone out there?” Kitano called. “Crooks? Is that you? This is some sort of joke your playing!” She glanced toward the ceiling, expecting at any moment that her supervisor would appear before her.

And yet, nothing happened.

>

>Menu

>Maintence in Effect

>System closed

>Please contact support

>

“Wonderful,” Kitano muttered. She let herself fall back into Grandeur’s armchair. “Just wonderful…”

Kitano heard one of the doors upstairs creak open. Grandeur's small inn was quaint, located upon the foothills overlooking the little riverside town. Adventurers often traveled from far and wide in search of refuge among one of the passing merchant ships. The inn had its fair assortment of fishermen and smugglers alike. But during the Seneschal Festival, many of the daily revelries moved into town proper. A sparse few late arrivals stayed, unable to score rooms at closer venues closer to the festival.

Boards shifted under heavy boots, and down the stairs came a woman dressed all in red.

“Traveller,” the stranger said, bowing her head. Dark eyes studied Kitano’s odd manner odd dress from under a wide-brimmed hat. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Kitano ignored the woman for a moment, trying again in vain to pierce the locked menu system.

“Miss?”

“I’m not playing,” Kitano answered. “Leave me alone. I’ve got no money nor energy for this.”

The red woman smirked. “The Crimson Circle is one of devotion to--”

“Enough,” Kitano cut her off. “I’m really in a serious bind here. I might be stuck here for a very long time until someone unlocks my account.”

“There is someone you need to find?” The red woman crept closer still. “We ask for no donation. Our penance to your cause is our reward,” she said. “Is there nothing our order can help you with? You sounded very upset.”

Crimson Circle? Kitano remembered. “You are some sort of fast travel mechanic, aren’t you?”

“We are sorcerers who practice a school of dragonscale.” She brightened. “Where are you trying to find this person?”

If I’m in Yusmar, then the server hub will be…

“Yes,” she answered, straightening up in her seat. “As a matter of fact, I’m looking for someone in the western capital. Could you draw a path to Pos Masic?”

The sorcerer touched her lips and bowed to Kitano. For a moment, her eyes became clear as glass. Looking at Kitano, the woman adopted a cynical look.

“The Crimson Circle sees you, Arama Kitano,” she said darkly. “Dragonscale sees the shadow of the one you seek in Pos Masic.” Her eyes changed back in an instant.

Cross the room, the sorcerer traced the doorframe at the front of the inn with a finger. As she worked, her touch left behind a thin line of powdery red chalk.

In Pos Masic there’ll be the server hub where new adventures spawn, she knew. If there are any notices about maintenance, I’ll find them there.

“My work is done,” the red sorcerer said. “But Dragonscale has an additional thought for you: Kol Thom tower.”

“Great. Thank you.” Crimson Circle typically didn’t give cryptic hints, but it may have been part of a quest. Herald AI being as powerful as it was, no player would ever see all of the quests born from its mind.

Kitano took a deep breath and pulled open the door. Light from the inn brushed past her as she stepped through the door. The path was twisted ahead. Stepping out from the light and into the dark, she was blinded. Candlelights burned around her. Fragrant cinnamon disguised the smell of damp wood. She bumped into a bookshelf. She could hear raindrops pounding. A cast-iron pot boiled on the stove in the corner. Starbursts faded as she surveyed the cramped little shop.

Someone else waited by the counter.

“Grandeur?”