We decide—rather, Tanya commands us—to stay in the shadow of the bushes for a few more minutes, to make sure the dragon doesn’t double back.

Sater folds his arms and leans back against the tree, staring up through gaps in the leaves, listening.

Tanya is standing on the outer edge of the tree’s shade, watching and waiting. Her hand absentmindedly reaches for her jacket’s breast pocket, feeling for a pack of cigarettes that isn’t there.

I find myself sizing her up all over again every time I see her. She’s short and petite, and in this world, somehow muscular at the same time. A fun-sized ball of intense energy. Like a goblin, or a harpy.

She’s the one leading me blindfolded into this thing. The same way she led me down those stairs by the hand, steering confidently, without fear of retaliation or rebellion. She’s one step ahead of me, controlling me, this entire time.

She knows about Aberdale. About that chip in my arm. How much, I’m not sure, but at this rate it’ll be more than I ever know.

“Listen,” I say.

“Shhh!” Tanya’s eyes flick throwing knives at me, before going back to surveying the sky.

“Listen,” I say, quieter. “The longer I’m part of this, the more I feel like I deserve to know what’s happening.”

Tanya sighs. “I should probably tell you.”

My breath catches. Tanya is still watching the sky.

“Our destination, where we’re going to pick up the weapon...it’s in the Rifters’ headquarters.”

My breath ejects in a hollow gasp, which I cover with a cough. “What?” Not what I was fishing for, but it’s shiny and distracting. “And where’s that, exactly?”

She folds her arms. “Opus.”

Opus is the one of the most visible, iconic landmarks on the map. The tall, black spire identifiable from orbit is the Tower of Opus, sprouting out of the center of the walled city.

“What part?”

Tanya heaves her shoulders, something like a shrug. “All of it.”

That makes me smirk. “What do you mean? Opus is the most populated common area in the whole game.”

“Used to be. It’s just a hidey hole for the Rifter gang, at this point.”

“Hidey hole.” I say, flatly, mulling it over.

It’s a difficult thing to reconcile with my own memories. In my head, Opus is a packed, bustling city. A place to socialize, sell cool items, and show off. A place where people express themselves artistically through the craftsmanship of their wares and the designs of player-owned housing.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“People mostly go there to set up IRL drug deals, anymore.” Tanya says. It’s like she can read my mind and is deliberately trying to bum me out. “Among other things.”

“What kinds of things?”

“I don’t know.” Tanya says. “Illicit things, I guess. Do I look like a Rifter, to you?”

“You’re telling me one gang took over an entire city?”

“The most populated gang.” Sater calls from his leaning post. “Do we really need to play Twenty Questions like this?” He takes a step toward me. “We know the facts, you don’t. Shut up, listen to us, and follow our lead. How about that?”

Sater’s hand brushes the hilt of the knife holstered at his belt.

There’s an involuntary twitch at the corner of my mouth. I hope it’s an obnoxious smirk.

“Yeah,” I say. “That’s not gonna work.”

My hand eases down toward one of my revolvers.

Suddenly, there’s hard metal pressing against the side of my neck, denting my skin. I hear the click-snap of a hammer being pulled back.

“What are you doing, Winter.” It’s not a question. It’s a warning. Tanya’s voice is dangerously soft and breathy. I’ve never heard her speak like this.

“I’m not dying out here without knowing what those assholes did to me.”

“Really?” Tanya says, cocking her head in my peripheral. “Because that’s where you’re headed. We made a deal with you. Lord knows why, since we’re holding all the cards. Are you going to hold up your end?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

Mercifully, Tanya pulls the barrel of her pistol away from my neck. I rub at the spot, feeling a fresh bruise beginning to sprout there.

Then, she grabs my shoulder, jerking me toward her. Her head comes up to my pecs. Her face is turned up, glaring at me. Her brows are scrunched together, eyes bright pinions of intensity. The barrel of her gun rests just below my left nipple.

“Don’t.” She prods my ribs with a finger, emphasizing the word. “Screw with me.”

That one’s a Freudian. A joking thought I decide to keep to myself.

I cock my head. “Question: did you mean for it to come out that way?”

Yeah, or not.

Tanya takes in a slow, deep breath through her nostrils, eyes never leaving mine. “There’s more riding on this than just you and me.”

“Are you willing to risk all of it just to slight me?” I pause. “Or is there more to it? I wonder, would I still be cooperating if I actually knew the truth?”

It’s weird how cute Tanya still is, even with her face taut and snarling like this. “What truth?”

I shrug. “You tell me.”

I risk a glance over at Sater. His arms are folded, legs spread apart. His attention is rapt, his expression tense.

I’m onto something. I know I am.

Tanya widens her stance, rolls her shoulders. “If you’re gonna do something, Bigshot, now’s the time. If you have a card, play it. Cuz now’s the only time I’m gonna tell you.”

“That’s not how cards work.” I say.

“It is when you’re playing with me.” Tanya says. “What’s it gonna be?”

Her body is practically pressing up against mine, pistol jamming into my ribs. I can smell the sweat in her hair.

Such a weird detail to have in a sim. There’s no sex, drugs, or cigarettes, but sweaty people still reek. Seems a bit tilted, to me.

Though, it makes sense, I guess. Immersion is about details. Specificity. It’s the vivid, lifelike things that make it real. Like the slick shine that skin has in the heat—the kind I could see on Tanya’s face now—or the way a slight breeze pushed through a person’s hair.

Tanya’s lips part. “Winter. I swear to God.”

Then, it happens.

Hey.

It’s like there’s this door opening in my mind, revealing things previously unseen.

Hey, wait a minute.

There’s a gleam, a previously unidentifiable glint in her eyes. I couldn’t see it before. Or at least not so clearly. But now, I can.

It’s like a switch flipping, a light going from completely off to completely on. Like turning the valve on a fire hose. The truth—stark, violent, and unrelenting.

She knows me.