"Is… Is she gonna be alright?" Dawn's voice is distant, but the other two aren't audible at all. My sudden realization that she was even talking to me while I stared blankly at a space in the vardo causes her to repeat herself once again. It must be more than the third time she's done this according to the urgency in her current tone.

"I don't know. They couldn't give me any more information through the message. I included an addendum during the paperwork in case I was diving while something like this happened. I didn't want the wording to say 'worsen' in case it was, like, throwing it out into the universe. You know?"

The chair creaks as I sway a bit in my seat, the meeting table sits unused behind us. My forearms are resting on my thighs and my heart won't slow down. Dawn is bent slightly at the waist in front of me, seeing as she doesn't have to lower herself any further for us to be eye-to-eye. Richter has his hand on my shoulder and Rachel is sitting cross-legged beside Dawn.

"You gotta go, dude, don't let this game keep you away from your mom." Richter gives me a couple, soft pats.

"Of course I'm gonna break early. The question is whether I'll be coming back."

Rachel fidgets in her seat and the two girls exchange worried looks, "Like, it's a tough call, Ardy. I hope she's okay."

"Me too." My words hang in the air for a while before anyone else attempts to add anything.

Dawn crosses her arms under her chest like she's holding herself back from something and when she speaks her eyes can barely stay trained in my direction, "Look… Ard. Please don't take this the wrong way, okay? I don't want to sound cold to what's happening, but the timing could actually work in our favor…"

Is she seriously implying that this is a good situation? That there's some kind of silver lining to the possibility of my mother dying alone in the hospital? I fix my gaze at her face, but she shrinks back and casts her eyes to the floor. My mouth hinges open to speak, but I can feel the slightest bit of pressure from Richter's hand.

The brief hesitation allows her to continue, "I'm sorry. I don't want to sound insensitive. We all know how much you care about your mother and-- and we do, too. That's why, when you get back--"

"Who cares about a stupid game?" I shout back, anger rekindling in my chest. "This-- this-- none of this is real! Out there, in the real world, is my real mother. There's no Phoenix Downs or Ressurection Stones for her out there. If she dies, she's not coming back. If she dies… why should I come back? "

A somber expression drains away the color in Rachel's face, "Not even for us?"

I don't respond, barely restraining fiery words from escaping my mouth. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can feel two small hands overlapping my fists clenched over my knees until I relieve some of their pressure. Fingers slip around and gently grasp my palms. When I open my eyes, Dawn is staring right at me. Only then I realize how hard I've been grinding my teeth and slowly come to a stop.

"This was never just a game for you, was it Ard? It wasn't for you, for me, for Rachel, or even for Richter. This world is a key to something much more important to us than entertainment or money, right? This place is hope, and we can't ever let go hope. When you lose it, it's so much harder to find it again."

My fingers curl tight once more, but this time Dawn's hands are gripping me back. Rachel stands and wraps her arms around my shoulders, "We're here for you, Ard. Please dont be mad."

My voice quivers as I speak, thinking on Dawn's words and what this place really means to them. "I-- I'm scared, more than anything. I thought that, maybe, I could come back from here and everything would be alright. I don't know what to do. I don't know what would happen if I get to the hospital and she's not in her bed anymore..."

"Bro, you've already been doing everything you could for her. If you work as hard for her IRL as you do for us and the Arceans, then you're doing a damn, fine job. If I was your Pops, I'd be totally proud of you."

Dawn's lips curl into a soft smile, "Besides, what are we supposed to tell Victoria?"

I snort a short laugh, but recall Miss Delvina and Veritus. I let go of one of Dawn's hands and instinctively reach for the old wolf mask on my face. Veritus was gone for a long time, but Miss Delvina waited for him. And, even though his return was not the joyous reunion she was probably hoping for, I can still remember the visceral image of her on the verge of tears, kissing the mask of her departed lover. Will Vic do the same?

"I guess I'll have to talk to her. Mind if we use the vardo?"

"I don't understand. The Vanishing isn't until six days, but you're telling me yours is going to be in an hour? How could that be?"

"I… I can't properly explain it. I guess you could call it a feeling of some sort."

"Like a divine oracle? A message from the gods?"

"Yes! Just like that! Look--" I take her hands in mine as we sit in our nest of bedrolls, dressed in our civvies. "--I should only be gone for about three days, but I… I might not return."

"Why not?" Her expressions is more frustrated than sad and she grips me tighter. "Three days? Where are you going? Why can't I go with you? You're making less sense."

Shit. I wish I could just come out with the truth, but she'll just go blank if I talk real world stuff. Even if I could talk about my mother to her, how would I go about doing that? Wouldn't she want to meet her eventually? Even the longest relationships I had didn't reach the point where we talked about marriage or even to where we moved in to the other's place.

Two strong, feminine hands close around my face and I jolt out of my inner thoughts. There is a somber look in Vic's eyes replacing the unfamiliar panic that was there just moments ago, "Listen to me, Winters. If anyone understands an oracle and its implications, it's me. I studied religion, remember? You say your Vanishing is fast coming and you'll be gone longer than you normally would be, then I understand that, too."

I can feel her hands tensing, but she doesn't crush my face. In fact, her hands slowly drop down, trembling and balling into fists, "But don't you dare 'maybe' me with your return. Don't you dare. Come back to me or don't. Either way, I will continue to live with these same feelings in my heart. In our relatively short time together, I've loved you more than any man I've ever known and that will never change. Don't taint that love with the pain of uncertainty over whether or not I'd ever see you again. That would be too cruel."

"Yes… Of course. I can't promise either way, but my return will happen within the three days. If I don't return by then… well… I want you to know how much I love you, too. You have an incredible inner strength, you're desperately compassionate, and you have this horribly inappropriate sense of humor. Honestly, you remind me of my mother…"

The words slip out before I can filter them but to my surprise, her eyes don't go blank like I thought they would. Instead, her expression softens and she presses her forehead to mine, "I would like to have met her." I know she isn't intentionally speaking about her in the past tense and, after talking with Mom during the last break, I have to say that she feels the same way about meeting her.

We have one last round of intimacy, not so enthusiastic but no less passionate than we would normally entertain. We didn't use the Beacon of Alactrity, or the scales from Piscine Evolution. I didn't bring out any summons or create watery tentacles.

No.

Just a man and a woman who love each other very much, connecting to each other in a physical, mental, and somewhat spiritual way. We get caught up in awkward angles and giggle about it. We kiss for several short moments that felt like eternity. We envelop ourselves in each other's embrace, the day's hard work still clinging to us. The sweet and salty taste, the grit, and the slick feel of her skin goes straight to my head.

Moments later, Victoria is facing me, sitting on my lap in the middle of our nest. We still have our arms around each other, kissing lightly as we let our fires smolder. Her legs squeeze around my waist with a terrible desperation. My back itches and the small loss of HP is gradually refilling. We also wait for me to soften and slip out of her, but that usually takes a while since every sensory output I get from her is practically an aphrodisiac. When Vic leans back I can see the ghostly images of my flaming head dancing in her eyes.

I give her a peck on the lips before expressing myself, "Remember when you said you were a shooting star and I was the moon?" She nods and I feel her tighten around me. I can't help but let a moan slip and she kisses my forehead. "Well, the moon has to keep on going without her. I'm sure his life was that much better having been in her presence and would much rather be with her than without."

"Is that your way of saying you'll be back?"

"It's my way of saying if I don't, then my life would be that much darker without you."

We kiss once more and get dressed, she couldn't bear to watch me go if it meant I wasn't coming back. Alone in the vardo and seated at one of the chairs by the conference table, I bring up the message and hit the Y button.

[Initiating Emergency Neuro Disconnect sequence in: 5…

[4…

[3…

[2…¿~>•□||○

[Cpding Err03…

[Re-initiating E.N.D. sequence…

[2…

[1…

[Log Out successful]

My vision goes dark after my heart nearly explodes out of my chest. The sudden drop was more like a long plunge on a roller coaster. I can still hear the monitors on the machine beeping like crazy as the nodes slowly disconnect from my body and I remove my crown. It takes the pod a moment longer to open than normal, but when it does a male and female engineer and a male nurse are standing by.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

The nurse shuts the noise off and uses a pen light to check my eyes, "How are you feeling, Ardacen?"

I grip the edges of the pod as I try to swing my legs out. The sudden movement causes everyone to jerk forward in attempt to catch me, even though all I feel is a little light headed. I inform Gary, his name according to the ID badge clipped to his coat pocket, about this and he looks over to Erin, the female engineer.

She jams her hand on her hip and cocks her body in an aggressively defensive posture, "Well, we told you we've been working on the solo disconnect bugs since the beta started. Why do you think everyone takes their breaks all at once?"

"Where's… where's my phone? And clothes. I need to get dressed and--" My legs go out from under me as if they both spontaneously fall asleep. The thick, numb feeling makes it too difficult to stand on my own. Gary couldn't catch me in time to save my knees, but he does manage to prevent my head from slamming into the floor.

"Whoa! Easy there. Shit. Can you guys help me here?"

"Uh, legally speaking, we can't," I hear the other male, didn't catch his name, say as the sounds of keyboard strokes and screen poking trail behind his words.

Gary grunts in frustration, "Ardacen. Can you lift your head? Good. Okay, now I need you to sit up if you can. I'll move your feet. Very good. Hands and arms cooperating? I'm going to prop you against the pod, but you need to hold yourself up while I call for an assist. Can you do that?"

I try to nod, but almost lurch forward again. It's like I'm drunk without any of the fun or the after taste of bad tequila. "You got it… Gary."

Once again, I'm sitting on the floor with my legs spread in a V and something is scratching at my back. The differences between how I got to this point makes me a little sad. The numbness in my legs gives way to the feeling of thousands of prickly pins and I'm more than relieved that nothing was wrong with my legs. I bend the knees just in case and my new actions don't escape Gary's notice while he waits on hold.

"Do we need someone else here to help?"

"I should be fine."

"Yeah, you 'should,'" he shoots the other two a stern look and the male, Arnold, turns back to the pod sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, what do you expect from Mister Game Wrecker over here? I'm surprised the game's still playable with him in it." The acid in Erin's voice is practically dripping onto my head and Gary helps me to my feet.

"Don't mind her," Arnold interjects from behind me as Gary and I shuffle over to my room to change and find my phone. "She used to work on Pangaea until, well, you know."

"And I--" I cut her off before she can unleash her monologue that she's, no doubt, been saving for this exact situation.

"--And you would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for me and my meddling dog, right? Save it." I come back out, wearing a grey hoodie and jeans. My shoes are by the door. "Yours wasn't the only life ruined due to your company's short sightedness and slow action. Besides, if you were a code monkey for them couldn't you have done something to fix it before they took such a massive sh--"

Flabbergasted, she stares back at me like an angry deer in the headlights. I pinch the bridge of my nose, take a deep breath, and try again. "Look. Thank you guys for getting me out so I can see my mother in the hospital. I really appreciate it. I really am sorry about what happened to Pangaea, but I can't be the only one to blame. I just can't be. But, if you really want to hate me, I can't stop you. It was a great game, fantastic, and I am glad that someone who used to work on it is currently with Ele-Quince. I can at least trust that old problems won't be a concern."

Erin registers my words for a moment, expressions shifting rapidly on her face. I extend my hand to her, but she doesn't take it.

"Arnold's right, we probably shouldn't be touching you, especially after a fall like that. Liability reasons. Thank you, though. For what you said. We'll do our best to make sure you can log back in. Like I said, there's a few reasons why everyone logs in and out within an hour of each other."

"Thank you, Erin. Arnold. Gary. When all's said and done, we should all go out for a drink. I should have more than enough coin by then."

Arnold is about to mention how he doesn't drink, but Erin interrupts him, "Listen here, lover boy. Just because I didn't like you, doesn't mean I didn't watch your clips on the show. Don't think I'm gonna be your IRL side piece especially over a couple of cheap beers."

"Just as friends," I say with a laugh, "And you can go microbrew if you like."

"Yeah, we'll see. Here…" She scratches something onto a small notebook, tears out the page, and hands it to me. "Call me--er-- before you dive. You know, so I can monitor you. What, Arnold? Stop giggling, you little freak!"

In the car I'm already calling the hospital to see if I can get a heads up on Mom's condition. She wasn't answering her phone, but I already knew that was going to be a longshot. When someone finally does pick up, thankfully it was Rita, she briefly informs me that Mom was feeling groggy and acting delirious for a few moments, passed out, and slipped into a state of unconciousness. She lacked response to light and physical stimuli and her eyes remained closed. It was at that point, they labeled it a coma and now the doctors are scrambling to find out what had happened. I had a feeling that it had something to do with her loss of voice, which stemmed from her accident, and of course, the guilt started to pile up from there. Even though I no longer saw myself as the human catastrophy that some people (still) claim me to be, there is still an unreasonable attachment to what I did and Mom's current condition.

Breaking news on the radio interrupts the music, something about some former CEO being arrested for tax evasion, or whatever, and how a secret room was discovered in his mansion. I wanted to hear a bit more, especially after the secret room part, but I missed a lot of the first part and decided to just check it out later. If I could remember, that is. For now, I park my car and take the long walk to Mom's room.

The good news is I didn't walk into Mom's room to an empty bed. The bad news is I wasn't mentally prepared to see her unmoving form hooked up to more tubes and wires than ever before. The last time, I think was…

I sink into a chair beside her bed. The memory is a blur, too fast to recall anything in particular and my brain just keeps looping it over and over again to see if I can catch just the slightest hint of what it was. The scene is similar, except now the machine's beeping is eerily calm, a harsh juxtaposition to the erratic beeping and raised voices in my head. There is an awful sense of deja vu, but it's probably from the fact that I really have seen her like this before. The main difference is this time, she isn't covered in stitches, bruises, and bandages. If not for the chair, it might have been the second time I hit the ground tonight. Damn. Even in real life the ground has become my enemy.

I think someone came by to talk to me, and I'm going to have to swing by the nurse's station to apologize since I was probably unresponsive or vacantly dismissive. How did I even get here? Is this just another horrible dream?

I rub my face with both hands to help push the exhaustion out, and to see if, maybe, when I remove my hands and open my eyes, Mom will be sitting up in her bed. She'll be reading her book. Maybe she'll take her reading glasses off and set the book aside when she notices me in the chair next to her. Sometimes I could sneak in as she's engrossed in a passage and just sit there watching her make funny little expressions at the characters she's following. When she was still capable of speech, she would sometimes talk to them.

"Don't do that, idiot. He's such a tool. Gah, who could ever fall in love with someone who eats a well done steak? Morons…"

I chuckle to myself at the memory, but a tear still rolls down my cheek. A hot, bloated tear that carves a deep trench through my skin for others like it to easily follow. My eyes are burning, what little fight they have in them to hold back is rapidly waning. My breathing catches and the one thing I've wanted to do for months in a world where I could do anything is happening here. The vast, loneliness in this small space is crushing me into the chair as I sob without restraint. The moment opens the locked door of my subconscious to other repressed memories.

I'm twelve years old. The echoes of mocking laughter fade into the distance along with my prized collection of dice and people who I thought were my friends.

I'm eighteen. This is the tenth phone call and the tenth rejection. I don't know why I wanted to go to prom in the first place.

I'm twenty three. The myriad of greasy smells from the restaurant cling to me without remorse. I stare longingly at my dust covered pod, before dragging myself into the bathroom.

I'm twenty six. My mother is in a coma and I'm bawling in a chair beside her bed. Again.

My eyes flutter open and the room is tilted. Or rather, my head is tilted and when I try to move my neck it sharply resists. A flash of cold fear pulses through me when I can't remember where I am or what I'm doing. Have I been restrained? Did the hobs find The Keep? My shoulders, too, are stiff and unresponsive for a split second and a deep dread bubbles into my brain.

Something wrapped around me slips down my arm. A blanket? I try to straighten myself out and every second brings a soothing relief. I fell asleep still sitting on the chair next to Mom's bed. It looks like I rested my head sidways on my crossed arms and a night nurse must have covered me instead of trying to wake and move me. Still, it takes a while for my body to readjust and for my head to clear.

Did I really think I was still in the game? Is that all I'm ever going to think about? It's not like I have anywhere else to go, right? That's not right. Not, that it's my only option and that I should just resign myself to it. I've been thinking that, been saying that, but I never believed that. I know, down in my bones, that there's not much more I can give Mom than my support and company when she's awake. Whether I'm diggin ditches, flipping burgers, or laying in a pod playing a virtual game, as long as I'm happy she's willing to give me the same, if not larger, degree of moral support as she always has.

Initially, I thought she was going to laugh at my prospect of quitting work to play Arc for a year. It was a ridiculous notion, especially since both of my parents have always been supportive of my endeavors. The only thing she opposed was the idea that I waste the prize money to pay off her debts. I know Uncle Moss is supposed to be helping us out, but what if it doesn't work out? Still, if I didn't need to, then why am I even doing this? Why did I quit two jobs? Why did I accept the invitation?

"It was time…" I mumble to myself, coming to the obvious conclusion. I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I lean back against the chair and stare as Mom's tranquil face.

"Time to get back on the horse that threw me. Right, Mom? At least, that's what Dad would have said. When those kids took my dice and I wanted to quit playing D&D forever, he let me. For a while. Then a new edition came out and we were back in the saddle. When I gave up asking girls out for the prom, you guys suggested we go camping instead. And a few days before we were supposed to go I actually got Rachel Mally to say yes and you helped me scrounge up a suit and a corsage to match her dress.

"I know you're happy to hear I have friends and you would never let me abandon them. I won't, Mom, I promise. You'll be awake soon and we'll have a hell of a show for you, okay?"

There's a light rapping at the door and I look over my shoulder. It's the doctor on duty. She has quite a bit to say, not that I can follow everything she says. Despite her deadpan expression, which I attribute to the late hour and the busier than usual floor, she is excessively informative and amiable.

Even though they haven't found the direct cause of the coma, they suspect it has something to do with her underlying illness. She said something about a rating or a score and mentioned that her numbers weren't that low, which is a good thing? I don't know. Her EEG shows continuous brain activity, even though she appears unconcious which I take as fantastic news.

Back at the house, I toss the fast food bag on the dining room table. The half eaten bacon cheese burger and nearly empty fry carton can wait. I couldn't help but eat the fries in the car, but the moment I read the first of a string of emails in the doorway, I knew I wasn't going to finish eating. Electrum Edge, the enigmatic company interested in sponsoring me had sent me several correspondences. A few of them were actually the same, basic express contracts with minor differences depending on which direction I wanted to go with them. However, no matter which one I choose, my compensation is going to be substantial, more so than I was initially expecting. This just raised more red flags for me, seeing as I still have no idea who these people really are.

Richter could be right, EE could be some kind of front to illegal or immoral activities. Dawn could only dredge up sparse details to who they claim to be and their wording is definitely suspect. Electrum Edge…

Electrum…

No.…

That… that can't be just a coincidence. Can it? There's no way we could have kept our destination a secret from the monitors recording our every action. Could someone have pieced everything together and created this ficticious company just for me. But for what purpose? And aside from recording us, Gerard Quince himself stated that there hasn't been any outside interference in the world of Arc since it's initial creation aside from the players. The Pantheon, the system of god-like moderators operating from within, take care of practically everything. Could they have something to do with EE? And, again, to what purpose would they be aiming for by giving me money?

I sit down, head spinning, and prop up the tablet I had brought with me. I switch it over to the channel broadcasting the show and catch a segment that blew my mind and pissed me the hell off in the first three seconds. And, for the briefest of moments, I forgot about everything else.