Chapter 78: Retro Vision

We could, in fact, return to Miguel’s Realm without the man himself in tow.

The most trouble I ran into leading the first team through the tunnel and the maintenance area was convincing Erin to hurry on to the arcade, rather than lingering to pore over the various runic puzzles. Zhizhi helped, probably because she wanted to get in and out as fast as possible. Gerry helped, probably because he wanted to take his shot at Tickets as soon as he could.

Lena, Miguel, Donica, and Michelle were waiting outside for the results of our test.

An even split between the teams, though not, unfortunately, an even split of active players.

With a sigh and a last longing glance at the runes, Erin let me usher her into Third Eye’s dead and empty echo of Cinder Alley.

I stepped aside so the two newcomers could go first, which proved to be a mistake. They froze as soon as they stepped onto the brick “street.”

“This,” Gerry whispered, “owns so fucking hard.”

Erin could only nod.

Zhizhi gave them a sidelong glance. Even I raised an eyebrow.

“There’s no way either of you were born when this place closed,” Zhizhi said.

“Of course not,” Erin said. “That’s what makes it so exciting! I’d say it’s like getting to walk through a piece of local history, but we shouldn’t conflate this Third Eye construct with the real thing. Didn’t you say that the arcade, at least, doesn’t follow the original layout?”

“Miguel said that.” I spread my palms. “I’m pretty sure I went to the real place, but it was when I was too young to remember it. Come on, let’s try and get some Tickets.”

“Oh. Of course.” Erin pushed her glasses up. From the angle the light glinted off them, I could tell she was eyeing one of the gates pulled down over the fake brick storefronts. Although she walked in the general direction of the escalator, she drifted toward the gate. “I wonder what would be in the other stores if we opened them up...”

“You’ll have plenty of time to figure that out,” I said, “while Lena and Zhizhi and I are on the road.”

Erin blinked. “Sorry. I’m getting distracted.”

“No worries.” What did I have to worry about?

Just Lena waiting outside, backed up only by Michelle, a player whose strength I’d never had the chance to judge. A player who, as far as I knew, had never been tested in PVP, much less PVE.

We hadn’t had a choice in the matter. Any configuration we settled on would’ve left one group with just a pair of Third Eye players. Would I have felt better if it was Erin out there with Lena?

Despite the way Erin had allowed herself to get distracted, yes. I’d seen her match up with Matt, and that was weeks ago. I had no doubt she’d improved since. She was a creative and inquisitive player. Prior to my recent, Ticket-powered upgrade, Erin and I had been equals at worst in total Reactants, and she had both the offensively powerful Fire and the defensively specced Earth to call upon.

A safer person to leave in duos, yeah. How the hell had I let myself get talked into this team selection?

Did I have anything to worry about?

Or was I just missing Lena already?

I shook my head. Kinda pathetic if so, tbh.

Whatever I might think of the setup of the teams, the first team trudged through the mall’s concourse. As far as I could tell, Cinder Alley’s layout hadn’t changed. Neither had its musty smell. The only difference, apart from the company, was that we approached the escalators without hearing the mechanical laughter of the automaton Ryu had taken control of.

That’s not to say the arcade was silent. The games were clearly, audibly active. Their clashing soundtracks and the sound effects of their attract screens echoed through the halls. Now and then, one of them flashed bright enough to reflect off dusty windows and metal gratings.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Do you guys play a lot of arcade games?” I asked Gerry. I’d fallen into step with him while Zhizhi, camera at the ready, walked alongside Erin.

“Hell yeah,” Gerry said. “I love all that retro shit. That’s where all the creativity is these days.”

I didn’t stop walking, but I had to catch myself before I tripped. “In arcades?”

He cackled. “In retro games, man! The indie scene is all about going old school. Trowel Samurai was goated.”

“Oh, that makes way more sense.” I nodded. “Also, true.”

He returned the nod. “Sucks about 2.”

“I liked 2,” I said, and immediately regretted my words. The next productive argument about video games will be the first.

Gerry didn’t launch into a tirade, though. He proved cagier than I’d expected from his Discord persona. “Played it a lot, did you?”

Trowel Samurai 2 had come out the same day the Third Eye beta launched. It was hard to remember how hyped Lena and I had been – about the retro platformer, not about the AR-ARG we’d long ago despaired of seeing the release of.

I’d beaten Trowel Samurai 2. So had Lena, and she’d written up a glowing review of it. Neither of us had touched it since, though, even though we’d played the original to death and hunted down every secret in it.

“Third Eye has sort of taken up all my gaming time,” I said. You could cut the word “gaming” and that sentence would be, if anything, more accurate.

“I’m telling you, 2 is shit,” Gerry said. “Try the original again. I’ve been grinding Third Eye, too, but I still make time for the classics.”

I couldn’t decide if he was being a dick or giving good advice about life balance.

Or, most likely, both.

“I did pack our Switch,” I said. “Maybe I’ll try a replay on the road.”

He flashed a thumbs up.

Zhizhi leaned close to Erin and whispered, loudly enough for Gerry and I to hear, “Did you follow all of that?”

I think she expected Erin to shake her head. At most, to prevaricate.

A rare example of Zhizhi failing to read her subject.

“Oh yes,” Erin said. “I wish I had more time to devote to the differences between Trowel Samurai 1 and 2. 2 is so much more proficient, technically and design-wise, but on the whole, I agree that it lacks the same spark. I don’t want to just accept my first impression of it, though, you know? Game design is no place for uncritical nostalgia. Yet I can’t shake the feeling. Which did you like better?”

I couldn’t see Zhizhi’s expression. I imagined a frozen smile. She said, “I, uh, haven’t played 2 yet.”

“You should,” Erin said. “We may quibble about its intangible qualities, but there’s no question that it’s a brilliantly made game. Worth admiring for the pixel art alone. You’ll at least admit that much, won’t you, Gerry?”

“Nope,” he said. “No spark. Goes for the art, too, just sayin’.”

Erin laughed. “You’re so mean. You’re worse than Mr. Green.”

“Matt?” I asked. Talk about somebody who I’d want outside backing Lena up. Just so long as they didn’t start fighting each other. Maybe it would’ve been better to have him down here watching my back, while Lena kept the advantage of numbers. Just so long as he and I didn’t start fighting each other. “Too bad he couldn’t join us tonight.”

“Yeah...” Erin hung her head.

“The Prof’s got better things to do than hang out with a bunch of kids, Erin,” Gerry said.

“I wish he were the professor.” Erin hunched her shoulders. “Now I’m being mean. I’m sure Dr. Yeboah has all kinds of interesting ideas about design.”

Gerry snorted. “Just gotta read his papers to find out what they are?”

“Well.” Erin pressed her hands against her jeans. “Yeah.”

Gerry tried to nudge my arm, but, trained by years of brotherly ribbing, I dodged. He didn’t seem to notice. “The Prof – Matt – is the TA, but he’s the only one who actually wants to teach us shit. Too bad we’ve been stuck with the actual professor, Yeboah, the last few days.”

“Matt hasn’t been teaching his class?” I asked.

Both his students shook their heads.

My brow furrowed. A couple of days?

“When was the last time either of you heard from him?” I asked.

Zhizhi glanced back at me. Her frown matched mine.

Gerry wasn’t following my train of thought. “Couple days. I literally just said.”

“Erin?” I called.

She’d stopped in her tracks.

I thought it was because my question had brought her up short.

I kept thinking that when she murmured, “Oh my.”

Then I rounded the escalator and saw what she was staring at.

The arcade glowed ahead of us, eerie, enticing, out of place even though it didn’t look like it. Potentially fun. Potentially a font of immense Third Eye power. The Street Fighter 2 cabinet Miguel and I had played on was near the entrance, beckoning me back to battle.

So was the figure whose cloak hid most of it from view.

“About time you showed up.” The words echoed weirdly through Cinder Alley’s subterranean concourse.

But then, thanks to the voice changer, Mask’s words always sounded weird.