[THE HAVEN]

Jay raced through the halls of floor thirty eight, his eyes skimming each passing unit number:

38803…

38805…

38807…

Was Jay too late? His battle with the Deadly Skulls had lasted only a few hours. Anton was probably still waiting for rescue. Waiting with the Infinities, and their leader Dragon in –

There!

Unit 38901.

“PIERCING SHOT!!”

A level two bullet crumpled the steel door like a tinfoil domino, giving way to what looked like a hoarder’s art exhibit. Scissors, telescopes, lamps, chairs, plates and pencils - all ordinary stuff, celebrated in murals and glass display cases. The banner of a dragon hung above it, drooping like a placid rainbow; this looked like the right place.

A faint coughing drew Jay’s ear to a thin blue door open just a crack. That had to be Dragon, or someone who coughed just like him.

Jay scrunched against the wall - one reckless move could result in Anton’s demise. But reckless moves were Jay’s speciality, and his entrance hadn’t exactly been subtle. There might not be time to recharge his ability - he had two guns and a whole lot of backflips; he could at least get the initiative.

SLAM

Jay kicked open the door, cartwheeling in with both pistols raised. To his surprise and relief, the room was empty, save for a glowing green computer with a dragon desktop background. A window above it draped the room in shifting droplets of shadowy rain. And next to the window was –

Jay raised both pistols.

“Don’t move!” Jay shouted.

A man in silver spandex stood by the computer, a painted dragon coiled across his mask. That was Dragon alright, still as terrifying as ever, though a lot shorter than Jay’s memory made him out to be.

“Hello Jay,” said Dragon.

“PIERCING SHOT!”

A level one bullet cruised past Dragon, splitting his computer into a thousand sparkling green shards.

“Wise choice,” said Dragon. “My powers are subdued.”

Jay’s pistols turned towards Dragon.

“Where’s Anton?” yelled Jay.

“Out there,” said Dragon.

Dragon gestured towards the window.

“Take a look,” said Dragon. “You can still see him.”

Jay crept closer, tilting his gaze towards the window. Two rays of light pierced through the ashen rain far below, their movements steady and synchronized.

“Do you see them?” asked Dragon. “The headlights?”

Jay squinted.

“It’s a transport vehicle,” said Dragon. “It contains my last few Infinities. And your brother.”

Jay paled.

“That vehicle’s on its way to another Haven,” said Dragon. “It departed an hour ago.”

Jay’s head spun, struggling for words and breath.

“Your brother is very special, Jay,” said Dragon. “Immense fighting talent. And an unwavering moral compass. Perfect Infinity material. He’ll be one of our strongest.”

“What did you do?” screamed Jay. “What did you fucking do?”

“What I had to,” said Dragon. “This was the only way to save my family. And your brother.”

Dragon stared into the static rain.

“This Haven is doomed, Jay,” said Dragon. “Something out there’s trying to get in. Enforcers call it the Pale Dune. It will kill us all. If not, the Glitch Man will.”

Jay’s entire body shook.

“My guild is my family,” said Dragon. “I’ll do anything for them. I sent them through the Blue Path, and away from this doomed Haven. The Infinities will survive. Your brother will survive. They all may even achieve Godhood.”

Dragon’s gaze fell upon Jay.

“You killed so many of us, Jay,” said Dragon. “But I’m not mad. The Infinities drew first blood. I understand you. I forgive you.”

Jay’s forehead throbbed.

“I’ll never forgive you!” roared Jay. “You murderous fucking monster!”

“Look at me, Jay,” said Dragon. “Look at the monster you fight.”

Dragon peeled the mask from his head. No fierce reptilian eyes hid behind it - just the tired eyes of an ancient man, his best years behind him and his worst days ahead.

“I am a monster,” said Dragon. “I had to be. Only monsters can fight monsters. I don’t regret it, Jay. I don’t regret a single thing.”

Dragon knelt before Jay.

“I’m done now, Jay,” said Dragon. “I’ve won. There’s nothing left here for me. Finish what you came here for. I owe you that much.”

Jay raised both trembling pistols to Dragon’s skull.

“End my suffering, Jay,” said Dragon. “End your suffering.”

Jay’s fingers tensed. Then, his pistols withdrew.

“I’m not a monster!” screamed Jay. “You’re the fucking monster! You’re worse than anything out there!”

Jay’s arms sagged.

“My brother’s gone,” said Jay. “You did this. If I have to live with that, you do too!”

Jay’s pistols fell.

“I don’t care about survival,” shouted Jay. “I die all the time.”

Jay’s face crumpled.

“I just wanted my brother,” said Jay. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Jay collapsed to his knees.

“And you took him,” said Jay. “You took everything.”

Jay’s next words were a prolonged sob, a jumbled assembly of emotions, all speaking over each other at once. The sound was barely human. It was uncontrolled. Unhinged. An endless wail that pierced the ears and stained the soul.

It was all over.

All that effort.

All for nothing.

Dragon stepped to Jay’s side, placing a single hand upon his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could offer.

[ZERO SPACE]

Bez’s dragonoid tail slumped over a straw bench as he admired a row of paintings. Some of them depicted guild members from a time long past, but most portrayed birds. Pretty birds. Weird birds. Goofy birds. Ruby red birds. Those birds and players probably lived in this guildhall at some point; now all of them were gone.

“Hey Bez fans,” said Bez to his golden microphone. “It’s our final night in the Feather Bird HQ. Tomorrow, we join the Deadly Skulls. This really blows.”

Bez wiped away a tear - he couldn’t let his six viewers see him cry. That was just unprofessional.

“The Deadly Skulls are assholes,” said Bez. “Mister Valdi’s a big jerk. This might be my last Haven Cast ever.”

Bez sobbed more openly - some drama could be good for ratings.

“I don’t want to go back,” said Bez. “I like my Feather Bird family.”

“They’re not your family,” a voice answered. “They’re just a guild.”

Dane emerged from the darkness, his forked demonoid tail whipping behind him.

“Mister Danger Face?” asked Bez.

“Call me Dane,” said Dane.

“Oh, erm, right, Dane,” said Bez. “I thought you had work or something?”

“This is work,” said Dane. “Shae borrowed my weapon. I can’t do much until he gives it back.”

Dane sat next to Bez, nearly toppling the flimsy bench.

“Zero Space isn’t worth stressing over,” said Dane. “Treat it like a job. Do your eight hours, then get out.”

“It’s not a job to me, Mister Dane,” said Bez. “Zero Space is my whole life!”

“This isn’t your life, Bez,” said Dane. “Your life’s out there.”

Dane’s dark eyes reflected even more darkness.

“This is a fantasy world,” said Dane. “People get too attached to it. It’s not healthy.”

Bez scowled.

“Is that what being an enforcer is to you too, Mister Dane?” said Bez. “Just a job?”

Bez looked ready to cry.

“Zero Space makes life worth living,” said Bez. “There’s people here worth living for.”

Bez shoved his golden microphone against Dane’s lips.

“Is that all I am to you, Mister Dane?” asked Bez. “Just another player?”

Dane didn’t know how to answer, so he chose not to, storming off through the darkened halls. It was a mistake coming here. He should have just stayed in his room. There wasn’t much to do there, but at least it was real.

This was all just some stupid game. A dangerous distraction from reality. Dane let himself get too attached and fell under its virtual spell. He’d even let another player walk off with his weapon; it was a miracle the other enforcers hadn’t come down on him yet for that.

Dane just had to figure out where those glitches were coming from, then he’d never have to enter this miserable place again. Everything but that mission was secondary. Other players were expendable - a means to meet an end.

At least that’s what Dane told himself every day, over and over again. But his subconscious remained unconvinced. That little voice in his head was a stubborn bastard, willing to sacrifice both Dane and his mission in pursuit of its own selfish moral-compass. Dane knew that voice was dangerous. And worse than that, Dane knew it was right.

“Sup Dane,” said Bander.

Dane brushed past the little magicoid without saying a word.

“Um, okay,” said Bander. “Jerk.”

Bander breathed a sigh of relief. In truth, Bander’s greeting was a courtesy. Socializing caused him anxiety, and his anxiety was already at an all-time high. Everyone mourned the Feather Birds in their own way; Bander chose solitude.

Bander drifted like a ghost down the empty halls, sweeping his cloak across the dusty floor and his fingers across rough sandpaper walls. The wallpaper was cheap, run down, and lacking any sort of consistent style - a common trend across the Feather Bird HQ. This whole place was an embarrassment. And it all had a funny smell.

It was home.

Each cobwebbed corner held a memory: Asira popping out from behind corners like some sort of spooky ninja ghost. Umi laughing at mundane details, his booming voice echoing through the guildhall. Shae botching backflips, putting holes through walls and various furniture. They might all stay together in the Deadly Skulls, but they’d never have this again.

A shrill sob drew Bander to Chief’s throne room. The place still was still in shambles from the bird monster’s assault. Feathers, debris, and rotten viscera still covered the floor. Cleaning this would be a team effort, and the Feather Birds were short on both team and effort.

Underneath a pile of ruined tables sat Lanzer, sobbing into his claws. Bander groaned; there were few things as pathetic as a sad clown.

“Hey, crybaby,” said Bander, peeking under a table. “We can hear you from everywhere in the guild.”

That just made Lanzer cry harder.

Bander produced another groan.

“Come on, dummy,” said Bander. “Did you seriously just enter Zero Space so you can cry under a desk?”

Lanzer wiped his face on his sleeve.

“I like being Lanzer,” said Lanzer. “Even when it’s embarrassing. I don’t like being myself.”

“Relatable,” said Bander.

Bander crawled under the table.

“You shouldn’t be that sad, weirdo,” said Bander. “You weren’t even a Feather Bird for that long.”

“It’s not that,” said Lanzer. “I’m just kinda helpless. I couldn’t help stop that bird monster. Or the Deadly Skulls. Or that Glitch Man in the forest.”

“Glitch man?” asked Bander.

Lanzer buried his clown face in his palms.

“I’m useless useless useless,” said Lanzer. “Those glitch-things break the game. I don’t know what they are, or how to stop them. I can’t do anything without my dev powers –”

Bander conked Lanzer with his staff.

“Shut up, dummy,” said Bander. “You’ve got knowledge no one else has. That’s better than any dev power. If something bad breaks the game, you just gotta break it harder. That’s what hackers do.”

Lanzer almost smiled.

“You’re right right right,” said Lanzer. “But I think something bad is about to happen. Really really really bad.”

Lanzer blew his fishy nose into a destroyed painting.

“Everyone’s worried about the Deadly Skulls,” said Lanzer. “But no one’s worried about the Wizard Twins.”

Lanzer’s fins trembled.

“The Wizard Twins are untested legacy content,” said Lanzer. “They might have bugs. Glitches even.”

Lanzer’s pale clown face grew paler.

“We’ll kinda have to learn to work with the Deadly Skulls,” said Lanzer. “And fast fast fast. Because when the Wizard Twins come –”

“Chief!”

Bander and Lanzer peeked out towards Dalli, sprinting across the throne room on his long leggoid legs.

“Chief!” Dalli shouted again.

Dalli had practically searched the whole guild hall. There was only one other place Chief might be:

Dalli rode the rooftop elevator, muttering a silent prayer to every Zero Space God he could think of. In just a few short hours, the Feather Birds would be closed for business; this might be his last chance to talk to Chief in private. There were things he wanted – no, needed to say to her.

*DING*

There stood good old predictable Chief, perched on the roof’s edge, her big beetle body filling out the balcony like a black balloon.

“Chief!” Dalli called out.

Chief turned, hiding the open hole in her exo-skeleton. That wound was deep and crusty, her heavy heart visible and pounding within.

“Dalli, I knew you would come,” said Chief. “Find me, I mean.”

Dalli strode to Chief’s side, using his thin arm to shield her from falling snow.

Chief turned towards the frosty mountain peaks below.

“When I first started playing Zero Space, we didn’t have them,” said Chief. “Any type of bird race, I mean. Not even pteranoids. Armoroids were the only flying race available.”

Chief’s beetle wings fanned snow from her shoulders.

“I dreamt of flying,” said Chief. “Even before the static, I mean. Birds aren’t stuck in tiny apartments. Or dead-end jobs. Or cramped units. But birds aren’t real. Anymore, I mean.”

Chief’s heavy head sagged.

“It’s about to end, Dalli,” said Chief. “My freedom, I mean. I don’t know what role Valdi has for me, but it won’t be. Pleasant, I mean.”

“I’ll never let that happen!” said Dalli. “I swear fealty to you, even under Valdi’s command. I will always be your loyal servant.”

Chief released a chittering chuckle.

“That won’t be necessary, Dalli,” said Chief. “Serving me, I mean. We’ll just be fellow guildmates soon.”

Dalli saluted.

“You’ll always be my captain,” said Dalli. “My Chief.”

Chief’s wing’s fluttered.

“Dependable as always, Dalli,” said Chief. “I don’t understand how you can be. So loyal, I mean.”

“You understand me better than anyone, Chief,” said Dalli. “You’ve been with me since the beginning. I’ll be with you until the end.”

“But Dalli, you hardly know me,” said Chief. “Not the real me, I mean.”

Dalli cradled her hands with his own.

“This is the real you,” said Dalli. “You gave my life meaning. You gave me a home. A purpose. A family. Nothing’s more real than that.”

Chief’s wings oscillated like a hummingbird.

“Let me be with you, Chief,” said Dalli. “Wherever you are in Zero Space. Wherever you are in the Haven.”

Dalli bent down on one knee.

“Let me protect you,” said Dalli. “Let me keep you company.”

Chief stared down at him.

“Dalli, I don’t need it,” said Chief. “Your protection, I mean.”

Dalli choked. Did he push it too far? Did he say too much?

“But I would like it,” said Chief. “Your company, I mean.”

Dalli glanced up, heart pounding.

Chief touched his shoulder.

“I’d like to meet you, Dalli,” said Chief. “In the Haven, I mean. But I may be much older than you’re expecting.”

“I’m older too,” said Dalli. “I don’t care.”

Chief’s wings fluttered.

“What if I’m not a big beetle person in real life?” asked Chief.

Dalli smirked.

“I don’t care,” said Dalli.

Chief’s wings slumped against her back. Her next words fell soft.

“What if I’m not a woman?” asked Chief.

Dalli froze, eyes opening wide.

And then, he pulled her close.

“I don’t care,” said Dalli.

Dalli wrapped Chief in his wiry arms and Chief held him back. Snow fell across the barren guildhall roof, bordering their bodies in a pale halo.

[THE HAVEN]

Esara hibernated in a sweaty blanket cocoon. Their unit was dark. Darker than it had ever been. Even the faint glow of green computers failed to lighten the mood.

It was late too. Too late to be playing Zero Space. But Bander and Janzo were still plugged in. That was fine; Esara didn’t want to talk to them anyway. Especially Janzo - it was his fault the Feather Birds had fallen.

No, Esara was the one at fault. She leaked Chief’s powers to Master Valdi. If the Feather Birds ever found out, they’d never forgive her. And either way, she’d never forgive herself.

The unit door opened with a rusty screech. Esara didn’t bother looking up. It was probably Jay, but she didn’t care. Jay ran out moments after the Feather Bird’s loss. He wasn’t there to console her, or anyone else. Some Raid Captain he turned out to be. Maybe this was all for the best; it might be time for a new leader.

Esara smothered her face in a pillow. Those were angry thoughts. False, spiteful musings, brought on by her heightened emotional state. She redirected that anger inwards, expending the last few tears she had on herself.

A heavy arm slumped over her shoulders; it was Jay’s arm. He fell upon her with a limp grip, lacking passion or compassion. The arm slouched over her like a pair of pants discarded over a chair. Flat, worn, and a little smelly.

“Jay?” asked Esara.

No answer.

“Jay,” said Esara. “Are you okay?”

It was a rhetorical question. Dark circles looped around Jay’s eyes, peering at a place beyond Esara’s body. Beyond reality. That goofy guy Esara knew from just a few hours ago was dead. This was just a shell, possessed by a dispirited spirit.

“Jay, what’s wrong?” asked Esara. “Is it the Feather Birds?’

Still no answer.

“It’s just a guild change,” said Esara. “We’ll all still be together.”

Jay’s face held no emotion. No fear. No anything.

“I know it’s hard, Jay,” said Esara. “I know it’s really, really hard –”

“It’s not that,” said Jay.

Esara blinked.

“What is it then?” asked Esara.

Jay tried to respond, but words betrayed him.

“You can tell me Jay,” said Esara. “I’m your best friend. I won’t judge you.”

“I can’t,” said Jay.

Esara’s heart sank. It was the answer she expected, and she hated him for it. Then, she hated herself for hating him. She was no better; she was far worse.

“I know Jay,” said Esara. “I know.”

Esara leaned against her pillow.

“Just more hidden information,” said Esara. “That’s what keeps us safe. And that’s what keeps us separated. Stops us from really knowing each other.”

Esara stroked Jay’s arm.

“You’re my best friend Jay,” said Esara. “But I don’t know you. This guild is my family, but I don’t know them either. I’ve never really known anyone.”

Esara flicked long greasy hair from her forehead.

“I’m tired of hiding, Jay,” said Esara. “I want to know you. And I want you to know me.”

Esara took a deep breath.

“I’m Esara Simmons,” she said. “I built a community on floor four with my brother Danny. We did terrible things to protect it. We stole. We killed. Anything for our sanctuary.”

Esara looked down.

“Then I got Danny in trouble,” said Esara. “I ratted him out to enforcers. I saved myself, but Danny had to get help from someone real bad. Now he works for them.”

Esara bit her lip.

“I ran away after that,” said Esara. “I betrayed Danny. Left him for a better life.”

Esara ran her hand through Jay’s oily black hair.

“I just keep repeating my mistakes, Jay,” said Esara. “I want to change, but I don’t know if I can. I keep hurting people. Especially people I care about.”

Esara leaned her forehead against Jay’s.

“I’m not a good person,” said Esara. “But, that’s who I really am.”

Esara clutched Jay’s shoulder.

“Who are you, Jay?” asked Esara. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

Jay stayed silent.

“Please Jay,” said Esara. “Anything. Just something about yourself.”

“I’m no one,” Jay finally said.

Jay shook in Esara’s grip.

“I’m not Jay,” he said. “I’m not Shae. I lost my brother. I lost my guild. I’m nobody.”

Jay whimpered into Esara’s side.

“I failed everyone,” said Jay. “I failed my family. I failed all of you.”

The pillow grew damp with Jay’s tears.

“I have nothing,” said Jay. “I have no one.”

Jay’s flesh was freezing, but Esara pulled him close.

“You still have me,” said Esara.

Jay looked into her eyes. Light orange spheres, shimmering in the darkness like a path to a new server. They invited him in, drawing him towards a better world. That world has a familiar kindness - a home where Jay could be himself in any form.

Jay’s fingers met Esara’s hair. Then his lips met her lips. Flesh met flesh. Their limbs entangled, hearts beating in unison. Two minds. Two souls. Two flames burning in the darkness, guiding each other through a long black night.