The soft light of the VRC gently guided me as I was pulled from Aurora, the thrum of electronics sobering me from my bout of agitation. My vitals were scanned, studied, and scrutinized while the last remnants of my excitement faded away, locked once again in Aurora for when I would return. After spending so many concurrent hours, it almost felt irregular for my mouth to no longer sport the overbroad grin of my other body, for my ears to be rounded rather than sharpened to points, but the sensation steadily faded and reality asserted itself where fantasy had reigned.

This place again.

Once the VRC had been assured that I was as healthy as could be, I opened up the capsule to breathe in the sterile air of the office room. It had been difficult to grow accustomed to at first since I had been so acclimated to greeting my personal room upon leaving, but by now I barely even noticed the difference. Neither the entry nor exit points were of particular importance since the world was the same regardless, though it had been far more convenient when I could go straight from Aurora to bed. Nowadays, I had to walk home after my shift, which often took more time and effort than I could manage after a long day of gaming.

I idly considered bringing a pillow and blanket to work. It would certainly spare me having to brave the midnight hours for the sake of sleep, and I spent so much time here here that it was practically a second residence in its own right. The rooms were largely private with only the occasional visitor—usually for scheduled meetings—so it wasn’t too likely for people to even see it, much less make a big deal out of it, and the public VRCs had been installed complete with the construction and maintenance, so it wasn’t nearly as noisy as the past week had been. It seemed like a rather pleasant idea overall, though I’d probably need to figure out a way of getting it over without carrying it out in the open.

Jonathan himself was nowhere to be seen, but his open and still-powered laptop was visible on the small table in the corner, so it was unlikely he’d headed home himself. It wasn’t the rarest of occurrences—especially since most of the earlier VR problems had been ironed out—but my own habitual seclusion in the VRC left me with knowledge of neither where he’d wandered off to nor for what purpose. All the same, it was perhaps for the better, as it would have been a touch on the frustrating side if there had been anyone watching me fumble about with those goblins and making a fool out of myself. I’d have to rectify that little problem soon and make sure it didn’t happen again; I definitely didn’t feel like becoming a topic of gossip in the lounge.

Owing to the late hour, the now-carpeted hallway was devoid of people with most of the remaining nightshift employees either sequestered in their own rooms or catering to utilities outside public eye. The days leading up to the release had been incredibly hectic for those involved—and Admin had even flaked on the first two meetings—but the effort had finally borne fruit; had I not been here myself when it was nothing more than a pseudo warehouse, I would hardly imagine it.

The lobby, too, had been all but transformed, and where once there had only been the standard waiting-room chairs there were now far more comfortable examples. This had been the first location to be worked on, and a collection of plush chairs and couches were arranged around small coffee tables to give a cozy atmosphere not unlike the coffee shop I had stepped inside not so long ago. The only current downside was that the lighting was a bit basic and the walls were entirely plain, but that too seemed to be temporary as far as the plans were concerned.

The lobby was just as devoid of movement as the halls had been, but it was surprisingly not empty of life; the old man I had seen during orientation was partially hidden amidst the cushions of one of the chairs, his body as still as Death itself. What few wisps of snow-white hair he had curled defiantly atop his spotted scalp, and both of his hands were clasping at a hooked cane as he slumped over in his seat. His skin was as gnarled as the bark on an ancient tree, but his presence was as immaterial as air; even his breaths were completely untraceable for me despite being only a few feet away. He… was still breathing, right?

“Don’t mind me.” Just as I was genuinely wondering whether or not the man was knocking on the door to the afterlife, I was rebuked by a low, vibrant voice that seemed far too out of place with the rest of him. Another glance around the room showed that we were indeed the only ones for the time being, and my brows furrowed at the incongruity of it all before I pushed past him. There was no need for me to be concerned for someone who wished me not to be, and so I put him out of mind to step into the city’s midnight air.

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Although the sky was clear and cloudless, it was difficult to truly appreciate it amidst the glare of the lights nearby. The streets and sidewalks were so fully illuminated that the time of day hardly mattered, a bevy of lamps revealing the pavement while the windows of still-active businesses revealed everything else. I had glanced to the sky for only a brief moment before returning to my path, making my way through the streets towards one of the always-open fast-food places. Discontent welled up in my chest, chased shortly after by the bitter taste of irony; the only time I’d been able to see the stars without the interference of artificial light was in a virtual world. At the very least, it would allow me to return with less delay.

=====

Rather than head to my residence after picking up my makeshift dinner, I opted to return to Monument instead. I wasn’t exactly tired enough to head to sleep immediately, and the anger at the goblins had diminished enough that I was likely to go a few more hours in Aurora as well. It seemed as though my vow for cooked boar was going to go unanswered for the time being, but I’d manage to live without that knowledge just as I always have up to now. It wasn’t truly necessary for me to learn how to make a fire, really, and I could always just try to steal some food from settlements or caravans if I missed it so much.

The front entrance lightly chimed to signal my entry and I casually lay claim upon one of the chairs near the corner, habitually drawing myself away from the room’s center. Only the faint sound of crinkling paper interrupted the otherwise silent atmosphere, and the aroma of pulled pork tickled my senses once the consolation sub sandwich was revealed. It was enough to leave my mouth watering, and I reminded myself that I was not a goblin right now; I had to be careful, lest the chair be stained and a lengthy lecture received for leaving a mess the morning literally before the grand opening. No, I had to show some measure of restraint, but as that bread met my lips and I tasted the very thing I had been craving, that restraint became easier and easier.

It was… disappointing.

I’d expected—wanted—more. The sandwich certainly wasn’t bad by any means, and it took no effort to continue eating it after I’d realized the extent of its taste, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t…

It wasn’t quite what I had been looking for.

It seemed as though another experience would be made exclusive to Aurora, right there next to stargazing. Each bite left me satiated but not satisfied, and even the fruits I had been eating in the pocket server seemed to hold greater sway over my tastes than this.

“Excited for today?” The once-comfortable peace was broken by the same low, powerful voice I had heard earlier this morning, and once I’d looked up towards the source, I saw the steel-grey eyes of the aged man returning my gaze with their own. Although his brows were slightly drooped to conceal the most of the whites—leaving him seemingly in perpetual half-rest—and the eyes seemed to have a slightly milky cast to them, they honed in on me with a force that was unnerving.

Quite frankly, the man himself felt more than just a little bit off. From the very beginning, his presence in this place had been a minor mystery I’d never thought to stick my nose into, but it was difficult to ignore when it went out of its way to interact with me. My own brows furrowed, my attention sharpening as regret began to set in; even though the chairs in my room weren’t nearly as plush, it would have spared me this particular sense of discomfort.

“Aurora’s lovely, isn’t it?” Whether the man had misinterpreted my dissatisfied expression for confusion or had simply grown impatient without a response, he continued the one-sided conversation with a tone that was noticeably friendly—jovial, even. His cheer didn’t seem to be artificial, either, and I began to wrap up the last half of my sandwich to save for later; people like this tended to go on whether you interacted with them or not.

The only question I had on my mind was whether or not I would return to Aurora, as I had considered earlier. My mood had been shot from the disappointing dinner and the newly broken atmosphere, and it was unclear if a brief few-hour visit would be warranted or if it would be better to sleep now for a long-term session later.

Ah, if I went to sleep, I would be able to look up how to build a fire before returning….

The man seemed to finally take the hint once I’d stood up, though I could still feel his eyes upon my back all the same. The heat of the man’s melancholic gaze lingered upon me even after I’d stepped away from building’s fore and out of sight, but there had been no reason nor cause for me to involve myself with so irregular a person. If he truly wished for some company, he could have found it easily enough elsewhere. It wasn’t my obligation to entertain strangers that had nothing to do with me, and I wasn’t about to start after getting hired at a job that didn’t require it.