The moment Colm took off his helmet, the world looked dull and monotone. The smell of dust filled his nose as he stared up at the white light on the ceiling. He could stare at it forever.

“Colm?”

It was Pavetta, carrying two backpacks. She was wearing a jogging suit, and she was sweating.

“I was thinking, if I was gonna have to walk all the way here, might as well turn it into an exercise. I brought you your clothes.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Colm quickly jumped off from the platform. There was a small, very tight door which he opened, and revealed to be a toilet bowl, and if he squeezed farther to the back—a shower. He searched for the small zipper between his suit, which was there, thankfully. He wondered how players had to deal with this in the middle of an hours-long raid.

“I just made us 2000 credits!” Colm said.

“Really? No. You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No, I did.”

“Is it in your account?”

“Well. About that…”

He told her about the player he helped who promised to pay him. Pavetta wasn’t very enthusiastic about hearing that.

After taking a shower, Colm explained his experiences to the old man Viktor, who listened, without expressing a hint of surprise, and gave a nod. “You have good stamina,” was all he said. Then he gave Colm 300 credits on his first day.

He took 100, then passed the 200 to Pavetta.

The real problem began when he went to school. Before the first period could start, he blacked out at his desk. He didn’t get a good sleep either. He was woken up from time to time, but he reasoned to himself that he needed to work in the afternoon straight home from school. By that point, he would only have an hour or two to play the game.

Then the clock struck at three in the afternoon.

“It gets easier,” Viktor said. “We clean heavy only on Sundays. Yesterday—it was an exception.”

He had finished in about an hour mopping the hallways while the old man vacuumed the floors.

He was about to enter the game again when Viktor caught him by the shoulder. “What you told me, about the korvels, is it true?”

“Why would I lie?”

“It is very rare experience for new players. Tell me how it goes, yes? New information is valuable in the game. Priceless.”

Colm said he would.

The moment he opened COREPUNK, he was staring at the screen that blocked his view.

You are afflicted with a curse: Lothar’s Sin You are now unable to use arcane by any means until the curse is removed.

It seemed to be a big problem, but he didn’t really have an estimate of how difficult it was without arcane.

He was in a cell. Iron bars and smooth walls. This place was not well maintained. His back was brushing against moss, and the walls were cracked. He tried to push himself up, but realized his left leg was gone. He could still feel it within the suit, but the sensation was numb that his real leg felt more like a ghost.

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He did try to forcibly stand up though, but the suit forced him to topple over in-sync to his avatar, and he hurt his back. He wondered—should the enemy twist his arm in-game, would it mimic real life? He hoped not.

He was alone in the cell. But there was another cell in front of him. The torch in the distance illuminated the edges of the bars, allowing him to see a silhouette of a man.

“Sunrider,” Colm said. He noticed he wasn’t wearing his helmet and his suit. Instead, it was a white shirt and pants.

The man smiled. “That’s right. I’m a sunrider. What gave it away?”

“You make people uncomfortable just by staring at them.”

“Night vision implants,” he said. “Good eye. Here’s your reward.”

He slid something on the ground. It glistened against the firelight. Colm reached for it and held it up.

“The other players already terminated themselves. Now it’s just you and me, newbie. You’re gonna spawn to the nearest portal, and look—“ he held up his hands, showing a vertical slit along his forearm. He was bleeding. “You’re the only one left.”

“Sorry for the wait,” Colm said, playing with the knife.

“All cool. This game, man. I can just stare up at the wall all day and it’ll still feel better than my cheap apartment. It looks so alive.”

The man breathed, and when Colm tried calling out to him, he wouldn’t answer. His avatar was dead.

Colm opened his menu with a voice command and checked for something new. As it turned out, Noah had messaged him. Her message was a recent hour ago, when she said she found a group of void walkers who were traveling the void, and she had joined them for now. He replied, saying he was caught and imprisoned somewhere, but he didn’t know enough about the place.

He placed the knife on the ground.

He had other ideas. He wanted to know where he was. He could gather as much information as he could on the place and tell Viktor. Maybe he could even sell the location online. But the sunrider, who must know the game well enough, and the other players, had chosen to die instead of looking around. But it doesn’t matter now.

There were voices closing in.

Colm quickly cut a vertical slit on his hand but only with a thin layer enough to coat his arm with blood. He then spread it on the ground, and he laid down, breathing as little as possible.

The voices were erratic. He couldn’t make out what they were saying until they ran over in his direction.

“They’re dead,” a man said. “They’re all dead!”

“Look, that player’s got something there. It looks sharp. I told you to watch them.”

The man then tried to explain that he was only closing his eyes for a bit since it was too early in the morning, and he hadn’t slept a wink. Exasperated, the two of them opened the cells and hauled the bodies to a wheeled container. Colm was worried they’d feel his heartbeat, but they threw him carelessly, and had another player’s corpse on top of him.

“Lord Volan will kill us.”

“No, no, no, no,” the man gasped. “I have an idea.”

“What?”

“Trust me. Come on. Push!”

Colm heard the creaking of iron, and it wasn’t long before they stopped in place.

“You go in. This is your mistake, you take care of it.”

“Should I um—take the corpses inside too?”

“I don’t—“

Then suddenly, something rumbled, and footsteps closed in. The voice was soft and melodic. “What is this?” It was a man. “Have you no respect, bringing corpses to the—oh. I think I might have an idea what this is all about. Such foolishness. Come inside now.” The man cleared his throat, and announced: “Your Serenity, we have an unexpected audience.”

The silence after that was deafening.

Colm heard one of the guards explain that somehow one of the players managed to slip in a small, sharp stone inside. He then added that players, having had a history of being captured for several years at a time, developed advanced countermeasures that they weren’t aware of. Additionally—

“Someone’s alive in your cart,” the feminine voice said.

Colm stiffened.

He heard footsteps getting closer and closer and closer. Then it stopped. The body over Colm was gently pushed away. Having left with no other choice, he slowly opened his eyes and found her staring back.

She looked young and would’ve been Robert’s age. She stared at him with unblinkingly, blood-red eyes and black hair that flowed past his vision.

“You’re alive.” She looked at them. “He’s alive.”

“Your Serenity,” the soft voice said. “I advise you to step back. Players are unpredictable.”

The lady looked at Colm. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Colm slowly and carefully shook his head.

She yawned. “I will retire in the observatory. I want the player appropriately clothed and within my presence in thirty minutes. That will be all.” She paused, turned back, and leaned in. “Help me,” she whispered.

Colm sighed. Viktor would be pleased about this development.