SAVE POINT 93

Loading Smoke & Mirrors & Clarity...98%

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Rosabella

When Joy runs, she bolts.

Flies.

Zero gravity.

Like a cheetah—all tense muscle firing with precise movements: clench, unclench, clench again. Her electric-colored hair streams out behind her. ...And, then, there's me tripping over Sparo's huge feet and my rotating machine gun nose to cover her and the flag...

Yeah...

This feels like a dream that I don't want anyone to wake me from. We have the flag! We have my life! My second chance firmly in Joy's fisted hands and all we have to do is make it past a finish line in the sand to secure it! Eeeek! It's unreal! I'm okay—I'm going to be okay.

Except part of me is still sweating it—namely, the part that's thudding in my chest and ears like a base drum. My breath scrapes up my throat as my eyes dart around, scanning the brick walls and the courtyard below. I'm looking for them—for the other shoe to drop. I'm waiting to be surrounded, outfired and pinned down—like someone's going to grab my life and freedom away again. Like it's inevitable. And I don't want to think like that, but...well, I've had too many experiences that tell me otherwise. My skin prickles with dis-ease—

"Keep up!" Joy yells, not slowing down and taking a corner of the corridor way too fast. I nearly clip the wall trying to follow her—

Bullets spray.

There they are.

Joy tries to duck.

I pivot towards the shooter.

And it's EmeraldCity—not hiding—charging at us.

Unafraid.

"You bitch!" Joy cries, throwing the controller.

And I barely have time to turn away from my shooting, but something in her voice tells me that we lost it—she's lost it.

The flag.

"Oh my gosh—oh my gosh, are you dead?!" Dormouse rushes; out of the corner of my eye, I see his pale face drain even further of color.

"We respawn, idiot—get that in your thick head!" Joy all but screams, her jaw clenching fury like there's too much to hide, "How else would that green-haired cunt kill me?! I killed her!"

The nerd ticks a finger against his chin, "Valid point—"

"Rosabella, you have to get that flag—" Joy starts, but I'm five steps ahead of her.

Because I watched her avatar crumble to the ground and disappear. And I watched EmeraldCity sprint forward to get the flag but—

I'm closer, bitch.

I sweep in, scooping up the yellow flag bouncing mid-air.

And I sprint, my heart racing—

Dormouse and Joy shouting behind me—their silhouettes blurry in the background of my vision. Their shrieks, muffled as my heart thuds with each of Sparo's footfalls on the floor.

But part of me—part of me just wants to take a minute to smile...to celebrate this second. I want to hit the pause button and appreciate the fact that I'm first—in this moment, in this race. EmeraldCity, trails behind me, shooting, sprinting.

My health is suffering even as I try to weave and dodge but... But I have the edge. I have the win—right here, fluttering in my hands.

This is called justice. How's that taste?

I feel sassy like I want to brag. I feel saucy. I feel...like a fucking winner even though I haven't exactly crossed that finish line yet. I can see it there—so close. The archway is coming up quick. I just want to live till then. I just have to survive till that part— Bullets fly by Sparo's head and vision.

Fuck.

I'm right there—

My heart's in my throat. Brick walls whizz by. Right here—

"Come on!" I whine.

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BOOM!

An explosion rocks the screen, throwing my character forward.

"Eee!" Dormouse squeals excitedly from next to me, "I figured out the buttons!!"

"You—?" I stutter, disbelievingly, even as I struggle to push Sparo back to standing so I can run through the arch, "You did that?"

"Hand grenades, baby!" Dormouse sings, sounding anything but like the gangster he probably thinks he is. But I watch the smoke clearing on his screen as I run. And I see...Emerald City is gone. The fire that was raining hell around me is...gone.

I'm—

***Mission Completed, Flag Secured: Strength +2, Endurance +5, Agility +5, Intelligence +2, Emotional Intelligence +5, Determination +3***

***WINNER!!!!***

GAME MAKER ROSABELLA Strength +2 - 59/100 Endurance +5 - 47/100 Agility +5 - 36/100 Intelligence +2 - 57/100 Emotional Intelligence +5 - 77/100 Empathy - 42/100 Determination +3 - 93/100 Prophesy - 100/100 Creator - 90/100

And I stare at the neon words and boxes flashing on the screen with relief and shock ringing through my entire body. I did it—we did it—oh my gosh, I'm—

Alive again.

I blink.

And it's not a daydream; this is reality. We won. The world pixelates before all of our eyes. And we're, suddenly, planted right where we were before all this Multiplayer Mode mess started—smack dab in the center of a swirling mess of smoke hounds with EmeraldCity's face leering at us from the other side.

***Welcome Back To The Game GAME MAKER ROSABELLA, GAME WARDEN JOY & GAME WARDEN DORMOUSE***

...Except, we're not exactly where we'd been before, I realize with a start. Because I'm not in the same mindset. My body stands tall and confident. My chin lifts high even faced with this wall of ebony smoke.

I'm different.

I've already died, so I'm not scared of death anymore. The Grand Dragon protected me. I protected myself and my friends. I was given this second chance, and I am not going to cower in the background while someone tells me how I should use it. I was a prisoner in the Dragon's Sea Town. I'm not willing to be a prisoner anymore. I'm stronger than that. I can face my demons. I can face this girl. There's nothing I can't do. I'm Game Maker Rosabella. I'm me. And I've just proved to myself that it's worth something.

The green-pigtailed girl's pale face leers at us through the swirling black magic, her lips and eyes scrunching into disapproval. "We'll aren't you just Little Miss Save-The-Day?" she sneers at me.

I stare back. For once, I don't give a shit—not about how she's talking to me and not about her black magic. Because I have magic too...

"You know, I wouldn't be that mad if you didn't steal something from me, but you did. I could have had my baby sister back and you stole that chance from me, so I'm pretty pissed." Her tongue lingers on the last few words.

"Good," I spit back, "I'm pissed too."

She cocks her head at me, her huge eyes rolling at me in thought, "Is that so?"

And I take a step forward. I feel my power rush into my fingertips.

"Yes," I say calmly, addressing her face behind the black veil of her creation—nearly like a mask standing between us, "You've tried to hurt my friends twice over. You're playing with magic that you don't understand, and you're breaking our world. I think you need to stand down." I stare at the girl who seems to be attempting to assess my bark vs. bite potential.

But she's more childish than I thought; she leans in further, whispering, "Are you gonna make me?" Her right eyebrow raises impishly.

And I don't have to respond, not in words, because I've already gathered my creator magic. And I let it stream out of my fingertips, lacing outwards till a sword forms in my grasp, the blade glowing a brilliant, white-light. My mother's sword.

'For you, Mom', I say reverently in my head.

Because I'm ready; I'm finally ready for this moment. To use my power for good. To stop darkness and evil. I'm finally there—at that step. In this moment.

I take a deep breath, and I bring the sword over my head.

And I slice.

Down.

Through the darkness.

With the light.

Radiance streams out of the blade. And the smoke hounds scream as the fabric of them is severed in two. EmeraldCity falls to ground, clutching at her stomach and shading her eyes to see into the light she'll probably never understand. I point the end of the sword at her chest and the dragon behind her, unwilling to let them wreck anymore havoc.

And, just like that, we're...free.

I...I was right. I could do it...

"Rosabella!" the little girl from the Dragon's Sea Town, Sheela, runs at me, wrapping her short arms around my legs, and the old man prisoner hobbles towards our group, obviously okay. The dragons I freed from the island nod at me, specifically Aria, the yellow one.

> You have found your power.

She tells me reverently. And it makes a smile tickle at my lips.

Dormouse stares at me, a grin sliding onto his own face. And Joy—Joy has a new look resting in her eyes. ...Is that...respect? "You said our world," she murmurs shyly, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear, "—when you were talking about The Game, you said 'our' world—"

"Yes, I did," I tell her.

Because there's this feeling expanding in my chest. All along, I thought I had to be somewhere else to belong. I thought I had to be someone else. But I didn't. All I've been searching for—everything I've been yearning for for years—is right here. In me. In this place.

Home.

Home is right where I am right now—as messy, as frustrating, as crazy as it is. This is home. This can be the space where I succeed. I open my mouth to try to say something to that effect but—

Well, that's when a herd of ostriches and their riders burst out of the tree line.

...And I'm pretty sure there's a story that goes along with that...