The moment he'd gotten the email from HR, Simon knew exactly what the meeting was about.

The notice had been vague. Just a few lines requesting his presence for an interim performance review, along with the requisite stipulation that he not discuss the upcoming meeting with any of his colleagues. Simon barely discussed the things he enjoyed with his co-workers, let alone demoralizing emails that made his whole day pass at a snail's pace as he awaited the inevitable chop of the guillotine.

It would have been one thing if the people occupying the Belsoft were all undergoing an interim review, but he knew he was the only one. Despite the warning from HR, the first thing most people did when they received an ominous email was to post it in Slack and ask if anyone else had gotten the same. Simon kept an eye on the chat all day, but it was the same as it ever was. Requests from managers in general chat and endless talk about movies, games, and the latest blowup on social media in the "manager free" chat.

It was Simon alone facing the sword of Damocles, and that could only mean one thing: His manager had reported him. Again.

Brad wasn't a bad guy, in the grand scheme of things. He probably fell somewhere well between saint and serial killer, like most people Simon had met. But Brad was the definition of a loud, boisterous extrovert, and he brought that team player mentality into the workplace, expecting all of his charges to share the same desire to spend every waking hour with other human beings.

Simon didn't share the sentiment.

It wasn't that he didn't like people. They were fine in moderation, if they were genuine and helpful. But for the most part, he'd always worked better alone. It was a lot easier for him to just follow through on his thought process than to try and explain it to someone else. Brad had tried on many occasions to get him to "come out of his shell," which mostly amounted to team-building exercises and assigning partners for projects that could have been done solo in half the time.

Simon glanced at the clock in his system tray. Five minutes until his meeting, and--more importantly--three hours and five minutes until he could go home. Three hours and five minutes before he could finally try out a neural jack for himself and see what all the fuss was about in one of his favorite game series. Three hours and five minutes before he could lose himself in the world of Apex: Untamed and forget all about Brad and this shitty job.

Knowing it was pointless to start a task with so little time before a meeting, Simon opened a web browser and pulled up the Apex site. He'd tried to limit spoilers, wanting to experience the world with fresh eyes--the way he had years ago when the series first started on non-VR consoles. But right now, Simon was itching for a taste.

He could stop himself from diving into the codex or even the class information, but a glance at the introductory information wasn't going to kill him. Scrolling past a trailer he'd watched too many times to count, Simon read the developer's description of the latest game in the Apex series, Untamed:

Welcome to the world of Estalia!

Adventure awaits for those brave enough to claim it. Choose your destiny, hone your skills, and match your strength and wits against the most cunning and brutal foes Estalia has to offer. Not all can survive in this world, but for those who crave a challenge, a living, breathing ecosystem is just one sync away.

The teaser was a touch generic--it was obvious to Simon that whoever wrote it had never actually played the game. But the sections below were much more useful, showing the meat of the game and what had kept Simon hooked for almost half of his life.

Hunt Colossal Beasts

From the moment you set foot in Estalia, one thing will be clear: You aren't the apex predator anymore. Massive beasts roam the land, each with their own strengths and weaknesses to learn and overcome. Scout out the habitats of land, air, and sea-faring creatures to gather information critical to taking them down. Build the perfect strategy to stand any chance against foes that can overwhelm you with their size, strength, and cunning. Gather your most trusted allies to execute your plan, or do what no one would dare and stand before these mythical beasts solo--the choice is yours!

Create The Perfect Weapon

Learn every last nuance of your chosen weapon as it grows to match you in power and skill. Slay beasts and use their natural weapons and armor to augment your own until you've created a completely unique weapon that perfectly suits you.

Protect What's Yours

Build, fortify, and defend settlements against the onslaught of savage beasts. Populate your settlement with defenders, tradespeople, and healers to attract more hunters and increase your renown.

Gather Your Party

Connect with players from all over the world in real-time, face to face. Forge lasting relationships that transcend the confines of the game. Group up to increase your odds of survival and unlock special skills to take on the most fearsome beasts.

"Yo, Henderson." Brad poked his head into Simon's shared office space, his fingers wrapped around the doorframe. "Time to roll."

Simon somehow managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Brad was in his thirties, but he still acted like a teenager most of the time. It was just "part of the culture," he'd said. One of the requirements for working at a high-energy company like Belsoft. In Brad's case, high-energy mostly meant wandering in sometime after noon, talking to co-workers for hours, finally settling down to work at five, and then sneering at people like Simon who came in at a decent hour and wanted to leave at one, too.

In Simon's opinion, it just made for unhappy employees and an insane turnover rate, but he'd never said that to Brad's face. Or to anyone, really.

"Be right there." Closing the tab on his browser, Simon pulled off his headphones and pushed away from his desk, sparing one last glance at the system tray. Three hours and one minute to go.

***

"We value your work here, Simon. We really do."

Diane, a petite woman with a fake smile, beamed at him patronizingly from the other side of a large metal desk. She'd spent the past half hour reviewing Simon's performance, batting numbers and milestones and clock-out times back and forth with Brad. They'd gone through a pattern of building him up, praising his attention to detail and his skill at singling out problematic code and fixing bugs before they crashed the whole system. Then, once his ego had been sufficiently stroked, they tore him down, citing his lack of enthusiasm, his refusal to participate in company functions, and even the fact that he typically worked through his lunch hour.

Simon listened throughout it all, responding only when he was prompted. This wasn't about him, after all. Whatever they'd decided, they'd already made up their minds. Simon was just waiting for the sword to drop; to see if his head would end up in a basket, cleaved from his shoulders. Or if it would remain intact for another fantastic year of working at Belsoft.

"But Belsoft prides itself on promoting an energetic, passionate environment in which to work, and I'm afraid--"

"You're not cutting it," Brad interjected.

Simon's brow arched, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. Brad had always been such a kiss-ass that he never thought he'd see the day the man actually said what was on his mind without trying to play both sides.

"Your input is appreciated, Mr. Steigler, but maybe you could let me do my job?"

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She smiled sweetly at him, but there was murder in her grey eyes. Apparently she had as little tolerance for Brad as everyone else at the company. Simon leaned back in his chair, settling in. And here he thought this would be another boring, routine meeting.

"I'm tired of sugarcoating this," Brad said with a huff. "Every year I give the same review, and every year Henderson stays at his desk, head down, and doesn't interact with anyone unless he's forced to."

It was hard for Simon to imagine the kind of company that didn't value head down work mode more than anything else, but apparently he'd ended up at one. His lips pressed into a thin line and he willed himself not to rise to the bait Brad was so clearly throwing his way. That willpower shattered in moments, and he failed spectacularly.

"So you'd rather I waste half the day talking about how much of a hangover I have?" he asked, his gaze intent on Brad.

And oh, it was worth it just to see the way the man gaped. He looked like a fish who'd suddenly found himself on land, flopping about as he tried to get back to the water.

"See?" he squawked, his attention turned to Diane as he pointed a finger at Simon. "Everybody thinks I'm crazy, but he doesn't respect me. He doesn't respect anybody here."

Brad was wrong about that. He had plenty of respect for the co-workers who had earned it. His supervisor had never been on that list, and never would. Partly because of outbursts just like this one. Because when Brad felt even slightly insecure, he turned into a screeching mess of a man. In some ways he almost reminded Simon of the Anorndus in Apex. The corner of his lips pulled into a smirk as he thought of the feathered beast squawking its alarm call whenever someone encroached on its territory, threat or not.

Come to think of it, Brad did have that same oversized, hawkish nose...

"Mr. Henderson, I'm not here to intervene on behalf of your relationship with your subordinate. This meeting is about company values and work/life balance. If you'd like to schedule a disciplinary meeting, we can do that after," she said coolly.

Brad actually took that as his cue to be quiet, but the choice of words rankled Simon's already agitated state. He'd been told to act more engaged in the past, but no one had ever made it out to be something that was done for work/life balance.

"My work/life balance happens at home, on my own time," Simon stated. "That's why I come in when my contract says and leave when my contract says. So I can go home and have a life. I shouldn't be penalized for not wanting to live at the office."

"Is that a criticism?"

Diane ignored Brad's testy question and the posturing that went along with it. "And that would be just fine at another company, but at Belsoft we expect you to be involved. Hours are structured so employees can interact with one another. The lounge was remodeled to help promote downtime so that colleagues could become friends. When you don't take part in any of that, Mr. Henderson, it makes the company look bad, and it makes others take notice."

Simon's mind reeled at the implications that were being thrown around. Was that really what they were going with? The hours were open because management didn't want to come in before noon. The lounge was remodeled because a fully-stocked fridge was apparently a good way to get people to work unpaid overtime.

"I have the highest productivity of anyone in this company. I fix more bugs on a daily basis than most people get around to fixing in a month. Are you seriously calling me out because I'm not Mr. Extrovert? That sounds pretty discriminatory, to me."

Simon ignored Brad completely, focusing his attention on Diane. Discriminatory employment practices were something HR had to take seriously, and he knew he'd caught her attention when he saw her eyes widen slightly. Brad, of course, had something to say about that.

"Being a team player is part of your job description. If you can't hack it, maybe you shouldn't be working in this industry."

Anger sparked low in Simon's gut. He wasn't someone who lost his temper often, but Brad had a talent for pushing him too far. He knew it wasn't worth it to call the man out on his hypocrisy. After all, the only reason Brad even had his management position was because he'd fallen face first into by virtue of being the CEO's college roommate. He had no other skills that would've made him a good software developer, and certainly no experience managing other people.

Simon could have been petty and pointed all of that out, but he clenched his jaw and kept his attention on Diane.

"What's the punishment, then? Forced lunches with the team? Trust falls in the lounge?"

Diane's fake smile turned icy. She obviously didn't appreciate Simon's particular brand of humor. "You're being issued an official warning, Mr. Henderson." She withdrew a pristine sheet of paper from a folder and slid it across the desk. "If we don't see significant improvements within a month's time, Belsoft will be forced to remove you from the team."

Simon sat back, the force of her words like a shockwave crashing into him. Remove him from the team. That was a very nice way of saying they would fire him if he didn't pretend to be something he wasn’t. Brad was apparently so eager to get rid of him that he was okay with taking the loss of productivity and clean workflow if it meant he didn't have to deal with someone who wouldn't piss himself laughing at his stupid jokes.

Either that or he expected Simon to cower, so fearful for his job that he'd do anything to keep it.

Well, fuck that.

Jobs weren't exactly growing on trees, but Simon was a skilled programmer. He could work freelance jobs if he needed to, until some company somewhere decided his ability to work without getting distracted was worth more than "free" soda in the lounge and a daily lecture about how socially inept he was.

Staring down at the paper, he read Diane's beautifully scripted handwriting:

Simon Henderson is a gifted programmer, but his interactions with coworkers and superiors leaves something to be desired. Spotty attendance at company functions, reluctance to initiate team projects, and an unapproachable demeanor have made him difficult to work with.

Plan of Action: Thirty days probation, during which Mr. Henderson must demonstrate a willingness to work with his fellow Belsoft team members. If a marked difference is not seen within thirty days, Belsoft reserves the right to terminate Mr. Henderson's employment as outlined in Section 11, Sub-section 4 of the company handbook.

A company handbook that hadn't even existed until Belsoft grew large enough to hire an actual HR department. Simon drew in a breath, the words blurring on the page. Brad was saying something beside him, his voice like the rattling whine of some instrument long out of tune. Simon didn't focus on any of it as a war raged within him.

He wasn't too proud to admit this job had kept him comfortable when other people were struggling. The right thing--the mature thing--would be to just grit his teeth and pretend to be some social butterfly for a month. Brad would get bored and move on to some other target, and Simon would be left alone for another few years.

But some part of him wasn't exactly interested in doing the right thing. He had no idea if it was his heart or just some deeper impulse, but every cell in Simon's body was vibrating with a rebellious spirit. He wanted what everyone stuck in a shitty job wanted: to be able to tell his boss to go fuck himself and walk off the job without looking back.

Only unlike most people who had that dream, Simon actually intended to live it.

Standing from his chair, he picked up the warning, grasped it at the top corners, and tore it into two jagged pieces, all while Brad and Diane looked on in shock.

"Why don't we just skip the month of bullshit and make it official now: I quit."