Nelly Cole sent her drone camera to scan the area before moving an inch. "We don’t know if there are crazies still out there, do we?"

She expertly flew the device through the now barren terrain, capturing as much of the wreckage as possible on video. The drone passed a still-functioning holographic projection above a crumbling building and detected two people nearby. A man searched the ruins while a woman waited. As the camera zoomed in to capture their faces, the woman turned and glared.

Doesn’t seem to be guilders, so moving on, Nelly judged, steering towards the Big Beth—or at least where it used to be, finding a crater instead. She filmed the water from the Thermasis filling it in.

That should do.

“Besides those two, I can’t see any other survivors,” she said aloud, removing her goggles. “Any luck on your end?”

Her assistant, sitting beside her controlling his own drone, replied, “Yep, found a large group a mile from the crater. According to their emblems, they’re from the Titan Hunters guild.”

“Let’s interview them, then,” Nelly sighed, opening her User Interface to do her makeup. “Come on, before the twats from the Londorus Times beat us to it.”

“Um, Nelly? There’s a blonde down there who looks exactly like… Oh, it’s really her. The Golden Comet is among them.”

“Did she survive the explosion?!” Nelly’s face lit up. “That girl is tough as nails! Oh, if Camera 1 hadn’t broken, we could have captured her epic escape!”

“The camera broke from the mere shockwaves of her fight, Nelly,” the young man sneered. “So it’s obvious it wouldn’t have survived the nuking explosion.”

Nelly grabbed his goggles to look him in the eyes. “Whatever, kiddo. Let’s go!”

Their hovering motorcycle sped across the land with Nelly’s drone following closely. The vehicle kicked up a cloud of dust and sand and didn’t falter even as it flew over the giant crater. Nelly, fearing the engine might randomly stop and send them plummeting to their deaths, dared not even glance down.

“Is the stream ready?!” her assistant shouted over the engine’s roar, feeling Nelly’s arms tighten around his waist.

“Muted but ready! And look! Over 200 people are waiting already!”

“Awesooome!” He grinned, which quickly turned upside down. “Oh, great. Look who's here already. The Londorus Times’ hovercraft is descending.”

“Hit turbo, Josh!” Nelly cried. “Go, go!”

Seconds later, they reached the other side and the vehicle’s turbines blew sand off again. Nelly immediately jumped down and began sprinting, even casting a quick wind boost while pulling a microphone from her inventory. Great! I’ll arrive faster than those morons!

“Unmute the streaming!” she shouted a voice command as the guilders around threw her frowning looks. Fifty feet before reaching Astrid Bradford’s position, she began speaking in a friendly manner: “Welcome to the Daily Londorus! I’m Nelly Cole, and we have an exclusive interview with the powerful and beautiful Golden Comet, Ms. Astrid Bradford!” Nelly called out, catching the blonde’s attention who was glaring at the other news’ hovercraft. “Congratulations on beating the terrorists! Your victory was overwhelming, as expected. Do you have any comments about this act of war? Any idea who those Users were?”

“Act of war?” Astrid grimaced. “What are you talking about? Who would Londorus be at war with? And I wouldn’t say ‘overwhelming victory’.” Astrid pointed towards the enormous crater. “Did your audience see that on your way here? I couldn’t prevent—”

“Golden Comet!” Another female reporter interrupted, holding a microphone with the Londorus Times logo on it. “Was this atrocity an act of full-on revenge by one of your old rivals? Or was this orchestrated by the discomforted guilders that quit Shooting Stars recently?”

“H-Hold on!” Astrid stuttered, shutting her eyes for a second. “How could you insinuate that—?!”

A third reporter jumped in, speaking urgently: “How did they manage to summon a Superior Summon inside the city, Ms. Bradford? Are Safe Zone restrictions not as secure as we thought? Are other major cities in danger?”

Look at them, Nelly thought, biting her lower lip. They’re competing to see who gets the best reaction. At least my fans know I’m not as sensationalist as these vultures.

Nelly was about to ask another question, but she noticed the gradual anger building in Astrid’s eyes.

“LET ME SPEAK!” Astrid yelled, capturing every camera’s focus. Her face flushed with emotion. “Once the Titan Hunters’ Guild Master revives, we’ll make an official report about what happened here, tomorrow! In the meantime, I want to dismiss any unhinged rumors about ‘revenge plots’ or ‘guild drama’ you might be concocting, you hear?! These people attacked this city indiscriminately, and we fought back, alright?! End of story! Because, as long as Titan Hunters and Shooting Stars call Londorus home, we’ll protect it from any rogue User or whatever organized group might be behind this!”

“Are you saying that this was a declaration of war by an unknown organization, Ms. Bradford?” the third reporter asked immediately, earning a glare first.

“I’m saying that you should always be prepared to protect what you love the most,” Astrid replied, staring into the camera. “Because you’ll fucking regret it forever if the time comes, and you weren’t damn ready.”

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“Dammit, Ghost. Quit that already!” Amelia Laflamme groaned from her sitting place atop a concrete column. “Aren’t you hungry? I’m craving strawberry cheesecake!” She suddenly looked into the distance with narrowed eyes. “Never mind. I think that my favorite bakery is now rubble, too.”

“You don’t have to be here keeping an eye on me anymore, Amelia. The enemy is gone. Go home,” Alan said, picking his way through the street full of sharp rocks. He then raised his head. “Unless your house was around this area… In that case, I'm sorry.”

“Who said I was keeping an eye—?! W-Whatever…” Amelia sighed, pressing her hand against her forehead. "What are you doing here, anyway, Ghost? Searching for survivors? It was a miracle that the NPC survived, but I can assure you that you won't find anyone else here."

"I can try it,” he muttered. “As long as I search in the outer zone of the blast..."

Amelia pursed her lips. Watching him walk aimlessly was exasperating. She decided to jump down and follow him, exhaling loudly.

"And what’s next? Are you going to help rebuild this place?" she began, sneering. "Pain is momentary here, and we have healers that restore broken bones in a blink of an eye. As for the dead, every victim will eventually respawn. 24 hours later at maximum. Putting aside the fact that death makes you poorer in this place, it’s just nothing but an inconvenience. As for the damage done to the city, the NPCs will restore it in a month or two, and people will forget all about it by then. So, just to make myself clear… Stop doing whatever you think you’re doing. This city doesn’t need your help.”

“What should I do then?" he asked, raising his voice. "You said this was my fault, didn’t you? So, should I just sit and watch from afar? Just like Marco told me?”

Amelia's expression darkened after hearing that name. “I’m not telling you to stay and do nothing," she said sternly. "What I’m really saying is that you should just leave this place and never come back. If what happened today was truly your fault, it may repeat and on a larger scale. That white-haired gal nicknamed you Little Mouse, right? That should tell you all about her sadistic nature. You saw her. She was playing with us. So it's only a matter of time before she comes back looking for her favorite toy. And with stronger allies."

Alan halted. Finally! Amelia thought as she observed his thoughtful posture.

And why am I so desperate to change his mind? she asked herself, biting her lower lip. Just two days ago, he was nothing but vermin to me.

An urgent melody cut the silence.

Among the mountains of rubble and scraps of metal, a large holographic projection stood proudly, attached to a tilted building. It first showed the Londorus Times logo, before a young woman stared at the camera. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes shone brightly despite the bleakness surrounding them.

A banner below informed: 'Breaking News! The Golden Comet speaks about the incident!'

“Golden Comet, was this atrocity a full-on revenge by one of your old rivals?” a woman asked off-camera.

Amelia’s first reaction was to snicker.

Wow. The earth around here is not even cold yet, and they're already looking for culprits, she thought, glaring at the giant screen and the blonde on it. You really love being the center of attention, huh? At least, this time, it's amusing to see you as clueless as anyone else.

What would your reaction be if I told you that I have some context about what happened here, Golden Bitch? Would that make you mad, hmm? I’d love to see the flames forming in your eyes as I just walk away, teasing you about telling you next time we see…

Her lips formed a short-lived malicious grin.

Being one step ahead of the blonde bitch for once is exhilarating, yes, but… But why am I feeling so thrilled about something I got by force? I got the info by spying. Something this guy wasn’t going to share with anyone, not even her…

Amelia glanced at Alan, expecting to see him watch the transmission intently. And he didn't disappoint…

Observing his dumb attentive face provoked a slight ache in her stomach and the sudden urge to burn him and the source of that projection.

Last night during their private dinner, I expected him to act like a fool. I thought that once they were alone, he’d show his true colors: A virgin, mediocre simp that'd throw cringey compliments at her every five minutes, or blurt out horny, inappropriate comments.

But… while I was overhearing their conversation, he sounded distant and cold. As if something deep inside of him couldn't let him... be himself. He didn’t even reveal any information about his time outside… Not even to her.

Does he not trust her?

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Or on the contrary…

He cares too much...

She sneered at her own thoughts. What’s this? Why do I even waste neurons thinking about this stuff?

Amelia returned her attention to the live transmission, where Astrid delivered her last statement. The Golden Comet then turned their back to the camera, and a group of Titan Hunters blocked the path to the insistent reporters.

You've never been good with your words, eh, Amelia sighed, before glancing in Alan's direction, who had abandoned his place. She turned back, watching him stroll towards the city. After all this time, he's finally walking in the opposite direction.

"Ghost?" she called aloud. "Where are you going now?"

"I think I've been in this city for too long..." he replied, turning back. His eyes looked even more somber than before. “Although I lose nothing by dying, you made the effort to save me, and even helped me defeat that woman. Thanks, Amelia. I owe you one.”

He’s smiling, but it looks forced and empty.

Something in his expression provoked another ache inside her body.

This time, cold and piercing…

“I already told you, we’re even now,” she replied, looking away.

“Well…” He exhaled. “Although we had a rocky start, I think you’re a cool gal. I appreciate what you did for me today. Goodbye, Amelia Laflamme.”

“Ah… Hmm…” she muttered in response.

As she watched him go, the distant outline of the rest of the city seemed to close around his silhouette. As if The Novus couldn’t wait to erase his entire existence…

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“That fucking bitch!" Kathleen Maher yelled after shutting down the live transmission. "That stupid reporter! How does she dare to blame you for that disaster?!"

"My princess, pay no attention to that bumbling fool. It's their work to be as inflammatory as possible," Marco Souza spoke softly after sipping his coffee. His eyes and tone of voice sounded as chill as ever. "Luckily, Astrid has already killed any rumor they may try."

"Oh, yes, let me thank the now savior of Londorus!" Kathleen kept yelling, stretching out her hands to both sides. Her whole face had turned as red as her dress. "Now I'll never be able to come back to that city again! I swear to god, if I find out that they erect a statue of her, I'll become a fucking Quitter!"

Kathleen's glare met Karen Svensson's tearful gaze. The latter was standing silently next to the door, still wearing the 'deception clothes'. "Guild Master, I'm so sorry for failing you on my first mission. I'll--"

"It's okay," Kathleen interrupted, still frowning. "You've proven your loyalty already. Unlike a certain unapologetic bitch," she intoned the last word with closed teeth, glaring at Marco, who remained collected.

"What do you mean, ma'am?" Karen asked, slightly shaking her head in Marco's direction. "What happened?"

Marco sighed. "Amelia Laflamme is missing."

"So? It's not strange for her to disappear once in a while." Karen took turns, glancing at her two bosses.

"What is strange, is that she was the one to give you Alan Warden's location, and then this other armored person showed up." Kathleen snickered. "Isn't that peculiar?"

Karen's face paled. "N-No. She wouldn't! I can vouch for her, Guild Master. I assure you she hates Astrid Bradford as much as you do! Let me contact her right away and--"

"Oh, forget that," Kathleen quickly dismissed, rolling her eyes and returning to her seat. "Leave her be. I have plenty of pyromancers under my command already, so I couldn't care less about a non-compliant bitch like her. What I need from you right now, is to tell me everything that happened today. Everything you saw and heard in that city. Don't skip on the details, all right?"

"Yes, Guild Master."

So it's goodbye then, Amelia? Marco thought, discreetly opening his User Interface.

While Karen did her best to tell the events of the day, Marco found the Londorus Times' video on the Navinet, and watched it again. Astrid's audio was for his ears only: [...Because if the time comes and you weren't damn ready, you'll fucking regret it forever.]

Hearing that again suddenly gave meaning to Amelia's behavior from last night. And Astrid's too. I guess.

He stared at a still image of Astrid, her gaze fixed directly at the camera. So your faith paid off… He then rewound the video to have another look at the panoramic shots of a destroyed Londorus. Too bad your dear boyfriend may be too busy dealing with this menace to even—hold on… Why did that thought cross my mind just now?

Do I really believe this guy's story about that thing being here, inside the Novus, and on the loose?

He narrowed his eyes while the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. But there's no proof of it. This terrorist attack is just a coincidence. The guy and his stupid mission have nothing to do with this.

Annoyed, he gulped his drink and got out of the room unnoticed. Karen's retelling is useless. She knows nothing. This just proves my theory that this event was unrelated. Still... If for whatever reason the guy is right, and this is just the beginning of an all-out war against 'that'... Then, these stupid RPG-mechanics may have given us the tools to fight back…

Marco sneered, hands inside pockets. The hall in front of him seemed to stretch to infinity as his mind worked in all possibilities.

Whatever. It doesn’t concern me at all… Have fun fighting that, Alan Warden.

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By the time Astrid Bradford flew back to the Shooting Stars HQ, the pain and exhaustion of the previous battle hit her all at once. Although a priest from the Titan Hunters' guild had healed all of her wounds, the white magic did not replenish her stamina.

Shit... That gal was really something. It wouldn't surprise me if she became stronger after this. But next time, I’ll also be prepared…

Her eyes were closed, but she could discern the blue light of her opened User Interface in front of her, showing the names of her remaining guilders.

She skimmed through the list with tired eyes. All of their statuses were set to offline. I'm so sorry, Tamara, for sending you on that suicidal mission. I know you were saving to buy that Legendary-grade necklace you saw online…

Astrid suddenly chuckled. Why was that my main concern? Living here has really affected my priorities.

Let’s see. Tamara died in the explosion. Helen too, huh? When did that happen? Hmm... Oscar was killed in combat. So was the other enemy formidable too, or were they also immune to the Safe Zone's restrictions? If that’s the case, he fought a losing battle.

Wait...

She narrowed her eyes and swept the screen up and down repeatedly. Where is he? I can't find Alan's name on the list. His status should be displayed, regardless if he died or survived the explosion! But why would he be near that thing anyway?!

She felt a pang of panic while double-checking the information. His name was not there.

She pressed a hand against her chest, trying to calm herself until she distinguished a silhouette in front of the guild building’s main entrance.

It was someone wearing a red jacket.

She urged her mount to descend quickly, and once her winged lion touched the ground, she dashed to meet that person. Her lips formed a spontaneous smile.

The first thing she wanted to ask him was where he had been this whole time, and if he was okay. Was he hungry? Should they have supper together? But when she noticed the dirt adorning his face and clothes, she pursed her lips.

He began speaking in a calm, soothing way, but she easily noticed that his voice would crack at any time. As she listened, she observed the bags under his eyes looking even deeper and darker than before.

His smile was a farce, she knew it, and also all the things coming out of his mouth.

Did he have to leave? Where? He could not say, even though he had an unquestionably good reason.

He assured her to be grateful for all the things she had done for him, especially saving him a spot in the guild after all this time… But why was he mentioning it? He was the founding Guild Master! Of course he’d always have a place here!

What that traitorous Marco and his entourage of buffoons did had something to do with all this?

Although Alan assured that his heart was big enough to let that go, she couldn’t. She would crush their spirits and Whoreleen’s as soon as she had the chance.

Seconds later, she interrupted him just before he could apologize for ‘destroying the guild’. How could he adjudicate that whole other mess on himself?!

He didn’t force them to leave! They are practically adults that can make their own decisions! Stupid ones but nonetheless!

It was all Marco’s fault! His discomfort for this guild had been gradually growing for over a year, so good riddance!

She didn’t need those clowns!

But was there something else?

Could it be related to the other topic they discussed last night? Was their relationship just a farce—something as trivial as kids playing house in a tiny plastic playset?

Maybe… he never really fell for her.

Was this the real reason they were having this conversation?

He quickly shook his head. Why was she even questioning that? Of course, he had fallen for her back then—correction: he still felt the same.

She then felt as if that hulking woman, Scarlett, had returned and crushed her heart.

LIAR. IF THAT WAS THE CASE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU HELD ME IN YOUR ARMS, KISSED ME, OR SAID YOU LOVED ME EVEN ONCE SINCE YOUR RETURN! she thought, quickly hating herself for doubting him.

Then, why?

If he was being sincere, why was he leaving then?

If there was a problem, they would solve it together.

She could smash and defeat anyone inside this bloody simulation, so how could there be something she could not handle?!

But a voice deep inside her spoke a painful truth…

‘You can’t force him to stay…’

“Is this pending stuff you have to do… something only you can achieve?” she asked in a tiny voice, almost pleadingly. Wishing for him to say no.

“...Yes. That’s what I believe.”

“Okay. Then I believe it too,” she said, looking down. When he tried to give back the gifted clothes, she shook her head. “Didn’t I tell you yesterday that red looks good on you? Keep them, please. They’re Epic-grade, so it’ll be a while until they wear down.” She shut her eyes. “I-I’m not saying that you should use this every day, okay?!”

“Thanks,” he whispered, looking her in the eyes. “I’ll promise you to come back when I get stronger.”

“I know you’ll do.”

“Until then, Astrid.”

“See you soon, Alan.”

She waited for an entire minute to enter the building, in case he turned back. But nothing.

Inside, she found the echo of her heeled boots irritating. Never in her one year living there had she found the halls that quiet and unnerving.

Where was the sound of guilders bickering, the noise of spoons against porcelain, or people’s steps on the tiled floor? She could only hear the NPCs working without a care in the world and the indifferent sound that came from the street beyond the walls.

She did not dare to walk into the main room and bare its quietness.

Her body ached all over as she strolled to her office. Her legs wobbled, and her knees knocked together as she unlocked the door.

Her chair creaked as she sat in front of her desk, her head resting on both hands. She heard droplets of rain hitting the window.

This place is becoming colder...

Holding her breath, she tapped a series of buttons on her desk and the closet in front of her opened automatically, revealing a gray-colored mannequin, wearing a set of red armor.

"I've always thought that red looks good on you." She tapped on the desk again, making two other mannequins appear. One dressed in a mage robe, holding an exquisite silver staff, the third resembled a hunter marksman, modeling an expensive-looking black bow.

She admired them from behind her desk, tilting her head slightly. Traces of a smile appeared on her lips as she imagined him wearing each outfit. But reality soon intruded upon her mind.

"He left," she muttered, expressionless. The desk cracked just by the action of her forming fists.

Not here...

She stood up and exited through the window. Her Flying Mount appeared in a matter of seconds and took her toward the horizon.