The rhythmic clack of rattan sticks echoed through the college gymnasium, an undercurrent to students’ huffs and panted breaths of exertion. Axel Lund, an English literature professor and part-time martial arts instructor, swung the eskrima weapons in his hands as if they were the sharpened blades his grandfather had made him practice with as a young man.

His students were lined up in neat rows behind him, and they mirrored his actions with varying degrees of proficiency—until he began going through the forms at full speed until he abandoned the day’s routine entirely. Everyone slowly stopped practicing and just watched him.

Axel shifted his stance, imagining a machete-wielding gangster as his opponent, a grizzled and half-drunk cutthroat covered in the stench of strong jungle-brewed rum and fresh blood. The imaginary thug took a wild swipe at the martial artist’s head, but Axel stepped into the swing, welcoming the opportunity it created. He raised his right-hand weapon to catch the man’s wrist and open him up for the left-hand counter that was already coming for its target. In a split second, Axel followed through with his swing and cracked the side of his attacker’s head with lethal force, dropping him.

But his opponent was coming at him from behind in the next instant, thrusting his blade toward Axel’s kidney. Axel pivoted with the grace of a leopard cat and deflected the machete with one stick while striking his attacker in the side with the other. His foe crumpled slightly toward the side that had been hit just as the stick that had caught his blade swung up and shattered his jaw.

The vicious thug fell to the ground, disappearing and rematerializing in Axel’s mind in the same instant. The machete-wielder stood before him again, weapon raised high overhead in preparation for one last desperate blow, but as the blade came down, Axel’s left-hand stick rose to intercept it, angling downward and letting the machete slide harmlessly off to the side as he delivered a swift incapacitating strike to his opponent’s neck. The imaginary cutthroat dissipated as Axel left off fighting ghosts, took a deep breath, and returned to the present moment and his class of students.

With a cheeky smile on his face, he asked, “You caught all that, right? Did I go slowly enough?”

“Sorry, I blinked,” his assistant, Jerry, replied wryly. “Could you do it again?”

After the group of college students laughed off the corny exchange, Axel had everyone go through the day’s forms in pairs. For the next half hour, he walked slowly among his practicing students, his eyes following their movements. Half the students were blocking their opponents, pausing for half second, and then delivering the counter blow.

"It’s one move. Your defense and offense should happen at the same time. Even if you only have a weapon in one hand, blocking is only part of the pathway to your own attack," he instructed loudly but gently. He turned to his assistant. “Jerry, take a swing at my head if you’d be so kind. Full force.”

Jerry’s right-hand strike arced through the air on its path to Axel’s waiting head, but just before the rattan stick could land, Axel stepped forward and snapped his left-hand weapon up to block just as the stick in his right hand came to a halt a half inch from Jerry’s left temple. The kid flinched and then laughed at himself. Axel tucked his sticks under his arm and gave his assistant a pat on the back and a “thank you.”

"Like this?" a student asked, attempting to mimic the movement but too slowly and hesitantly.

"Close," Axel said, stepping in. "Stop focusing on your opponent’s weapon. “Watch his body, anticipate him, and use his attack to make your own. Mainly, just hit him in the head."

"Right," the student replied, nodding. He tried again, focusing less on his opponent’s stick as he moved in, narrowly stopped the blow as he closed toward his target, and successfully landed a hit on his friend’s padded head in one fluid motion.

"Very good! You got it, kid," Axel praised the young man before looking at the gymnasium clock and raising his hand to conclude the class. "That’s a wrap, everyone. Good work tonight. And remember, eskrima is traditionally about self-defense and using your blade—or sticks or hands—to keep yourself and your loved ones alive however you can. But the best way to do that is usually to take down your opponent quickly and decisively, so don’t confuse defense for taking a back foot. And don’t overthink what you have to do. To quote the Bard himself, ‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment, with this regard, their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action!’”

The students looked at him quizzically except for one girl who was in his Shakespeare class, who nodded in understanding. Axel chuckled to himself. “Meaning, sometimes you need to strike first and think later, or you could hesitate, start reacting instead of acting, and then end up dead. Like Hamlet. See you guys next week.”

With a few laughs, the class dispersed, leaving Axel alone in the gym. He leaned against the frame of the main door. Enjoying the cool night breeze on his sweaty brow, he absently twirled one of the rattan sticks in his hand, its smooth surface familiar and comforting. His eyes trailed after the departing students to make sure they all got to their cars safely.

That done, he was about to head home when snippets of an animated conversation snagged his attention. Two of his newer students, Kevin and Rachel, still wearing their padded vests and gloves, were standing around under one of the lights on the outside of the building and chatting excitedly.

"Man, you should've seen it last night! In Limina, I took down a two-headed venom hound with just a pair of daggers—it felt so real!" Kevin's hands danced through the air, mimicking the swift movements Axel recognized from his class.

"Really?! That’s some serious adventurer stuff. I’ve mostly been using Limina as a farm simulator because the realism of everything makes me feel like I’m back home. The smell of the soil, the feel of ripe barley in my hand, the taste of fresh apple cider—it’s as real as real can be. But I’ve had blighted beetles attacking my potatoes, and the little pests deserve a good whacking," Rachel replied, swinging an imaginary stick.

Kevin nodded to himself. “The pain when you get hit is also as real as real can be. This class and HEMA club have been lifesavers.”

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Axel cleared his throat subtly, stepping towards them. "Limina, huh? It feels that real?"

The students turned toward him, surprise etched briefly on their faces before being replaced by smiles.

"Dr. Lund! Yeah, it's incredible. They've got the physics and sensory input down to a T. Even the weight of weapons feels right," Kevin replied.

"Sounds impressive." Axel spun the stick in his hand once more before setting it aside. "Actually, I've been thinking about giving it a go myself. My daughter just moved out and will start her first semester at university. She's gotten quite good at Limina, or so she tells me." A warm smile spread across his face at the mention of her—a mixture of pride and a touch of something else, perhaps apprehension, at entering her digital domain.

"College, huh?" Kevin shuffled his feet, glancing at Rachel before continuing. "It's cool you want to connect and all, but aren't you worried about, you know, cramping her style? No offense, but if my mom jumped into my game . . . she'd be a total noob. It'd be like having a ball and chain slowing down every quest."

Axel grimaced. The remark stung more than he cared to admit, but he maintained his composure. "Well, I can understand that concern. It's important for kids to have their own space. But Alice and I have a pretty strong relationship, and we’re used to having each others’ backs."

"I’m close with my parents too, Dr. Lund, so I get it," Rachel interjected with a tone of warm encouragement. "And it's not like you’re new to strategy and tactics. We’ve all seen you in class. You’d probably be better than half the combat focused players out there. I say you go for it. I bet Alice will appreciate it too."

"Thank you, Rachel," Axel replied, a smile touching his lips. Nevertheless, the seed of doubt had been planted by Kevin's words. Would Alice truly welcome his presence in her virtual sanctuary?

“Don’t listen to her, Dr. Lund. She’s just saying that. It’s not the thought that counts these days. You gotta get those results. Get your level up first,” Kevin insisted before grabbing his bag as their ride pulled up, Rachel doing the same.

As the students left, Axel leaned against the building and heaved a weighty sigh. His mind wandered to his empty home, now devoid of the life Alice brought to it, and the virtual world of Limina whispered uncertain promises of regaining that.

Hmm. I’m probably overthinking it, he concluded silently as he left the gym and walked to his car, ready to head home.

———

The next day, Axel sat on the foot of his daughter's bed and stared at the cardboard boxes on the floor. Not only was Alice off to college, but she had moved across the country to attend an Ivy League school. He was proud, but he already missed her.

She had gone through all her old stuff before she left, nabbing keepsakes and knickknacks for her college dorm and leaving all her boxes out. He smiled wistfully as he grabbed the nearest box and brought it closer. Pulling out one of Alice’s science fair trophies, he wiped a little dust off it and remembered his trips with her to craft stores for supplies, the stops for ice cream after, and the time he’d spent helping her clean up the aftermath of her messy experiments. Axel chuckled at the memories. He set the trophy on the bed gently and then looked into the box again.

“Oh, cool,” he said to himself as he reached down and fished out a small plastic bin filled with video game disc jackets. They were all the titles he and Alice used to play together after he got home from work and night classes. Rifling through the games, Axel found their absolute favorite. It was an old action RPG, and the protagonist was a little girl with magical powers about Alice’s age at the time. They’d completed half a dozen playthroughs at least, Alice blasting through the lower-level monsters and Axel watching and cheering her on until he needed to jump in to help her past a tough boss or an especially tricky puzzle. They’d spent hours together like that. Axel smiled and sat there a long minute, just reminiscing.

Eventually, he tucked the game back into the bin, which went back in the box as he got up and took a slow look around the room. He sighed quietly and then left, gently closing the door.

He went out to his living room and paced around for a while, lost in thought but also not quite knowing what to do with himself. The living room window was open, so he closed it. Then he felt cooped up, so he opened it again. The house felt so empty now. Just him, the walls, and all the inanimate stuff in between. He felt like giving Alice a call. But he didn’t have a reason except to tell her he loved her.

She’s probably in Limina, he thought, considering how enthralled she’d become with the brain-tinkering virtual game she’d picked up with some of her friends. She spent all her free time in Limina now.

Still, he figured he’d try his luck. He pulled out his phone and gave Alice a call.

One ring . . . two . . . three . . . four rings . . .

On the fifth ring, Alice finally answered the phone.

“Hey, dad! What’s up?” she chirped.

Axel was caught off guard for a split second, but then a big smile spread across his face as he replied, “Hey, kid! Uh, so I guess I’m just calling to say I love you, you know, like cheesy old dads do.”

“Haha, yeah. Cheese is your M.O. Love you too. That it?” Alice replied and then waited quietly for his response.

“Just checking in on you, seeing if you need anything,” Axel replied, shrugging his shoulders as if she could see him. “But I’m a little surprised you aren’t in Limina. Something wrong with your headset?”

Alice said everything was fine and that she had just stopped to grab a snack and was just about to log in again. Still, the two chatted for a little bit. But then Alice said she’d just received a text from one of her friends, some guy named “Clarence,” who was asking when she’d be back in the game.

Axel drew in a sharp breath of air and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Who’s Clarence?”

“Sorry, dad, really gotta go!”

The call ended, and Axel took stock of his parental situation. You just name-drop this guy and hang up? What’s going on?!

Axel realized this mystery kid might have been a big part of Alice’s keen interest in the game all along.

“Who’s Clarence?!” Axel asked the empty room in exasperation, suddenly feeling even further disconnected from his daughter. “Well, that settles it.”

Without wasting any more time, he marched out the door, drove to the nearest Limina retail shop, signed the waiver, and put down half a paycheck’s worth of savings on the game headset. As soon as he got through the door of his home, he unboxed the device. Cardboard, warnings, and fine print tossed aside, Axel was ready to jump in and begin catching up to his level 15 daughter so they could spend some quality time together.

He sat down in his big brown recliner across the room from the window, set his phone down on the side table, and secured the Limina device on his head, aligning the perception pads with his temples and then bringing his chair into a full recline.

Then he pushed the “on” button on the wrap-around wreath portion of the headset, and a pleasant vibrating sensation spread throughout his body. The light from the window, which he had forgotten to close, dimmed, and the gentle sound of the wind in the maple tree outside faded to silence.