Though barely audible, the sounds of pouring rain and honking vehicles seep through the alley and invade the silence of this small library of games, like raindrops trickling through cracks.

“We take after our parents, Sean and I,” she narrates. “You know how an archaeologist like my mother can feel about art lost to time, like a painting of an old master or pottery from 2nd century. Like her, Sean and I would make no exceptions to what game gets preserved. For him, games are an integral part of modern history, and he is willing to try every single one, regardless of how popular or reviled they may be. Or at least that was the case.”

Rando’s attention is drawn to the disk pinned firmly to the desk by Nora’s finger as she speaks, neither looking at him nor the game.

“He knew about Symphony. He knew all about the drama behind its production. How could he not? When video-essayists scorched the developer’s reputation online, he did not hesitate to dive into the Dream Vision and experience the game for himself. We had drinks over how absurd the glitches were, laughed at the imperfection of its design, but we always reported bugs as we found them, and sooner or later they would get patched. Eventually, the game began to feel so real that Sean had a hard time separating fantasy from reality… so real that he lost all sensation, even when I pinched him for abandoning his duties.

“When he fell…” she pauses to take in heavy breath, as if to will her heart to stay still, “… at first, I thought it was some elaborated prank. He screamed my name, pain contorted his face, but other than that he did not struggle. Then he stopped moving. He did not respond, no matter what I tried.

“The doctors ruled it off as a stroke. They wouldn’t believe me. Not even journalists. They would all laugh at me… just as much as you want to, right?”

She lifts her eyes up at Rando and finds, to her surprise, that he shows no signs of amusement. Those gentle eyes are locked onto hers, refusing to look away. A warm sensation overcomes her shoulders, relieving the tension in her limbs, but she immediately clutches her wrists as if to steel herself from a sudden overflow of emotions that could make her weak.

“Our mysterious benefactors, who paid Sean’s hospital bills, told me as much: That some things are more important than the truth. They’re right. In exchange, they demanded that I destroy my copy of the game and never speak of it again. For public safety, of course.”

There it was again: mysterious benefactors. Usually government officials, or contractors connected to them, would reveal themselves as such if they seek a civilian’s cooperation; but this was not the case here. Rando wonders if they have something to do with Oroide Digital, and if it was the mass-comatose incident that made them disappear without a trace. To him, this reeks of cover-up.

“But you know…” Nora continues, “I couldn’t get myself to do it. I had my cracker create a copy so I could break the original into pieces at the meeting, because I couldn’t let go of Sean’s principle: Every game gets preserved. No exceptions.

“I dug every corner of the internet and the real world for answers. Turns out Sean wasn’t the only one. Did you know that, in its final days, there were roughly half a dozen people playing the game?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Rando mumbles softly.

“All of them went comatose. Every single one of them. At the same time, and not a minute later, the game itself disappeared from every platform. This was no coincidence, and most people intimately involved with this know it.” She lets out a sad chuckle, “Back then I didn’t have the courage to ask them what they know about all this.”

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

“They made you sign a non-disclosure?” Rando asked softly.

“Yeah. Anyway, now you know… Maybe they’re right about one thing. Maybe it’s better for this game to never see the light of day. Maybe it’s too much risk.” She looks straight into his eyes, “I sure as hell can’t risk a friend.”

“I understand…” Rando nods.

Nora smiles sadly. “I didn’t think you would care to hear me ramble. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Rando winks and rubs her shoulder. “Worry about yourself, because you just divulged what ought to have been confidential between you and your mysterious benefactors.”

“Yeah, I don’t give a rat’s ass. Even the company they belong to no longer exists. It’s strange. They seemed to have disappeared from the face of the planet… and yet it feels like everything still goes according to what they wanted. Relatives of a couple of comatose patients have gone public about this, but they were immediately branded crazy. The was even news driving a narrative that the mass-comatose incident is nothing but a conspiracy theory. Goes to show what we know.”

“Crazy. Creepy too,” Rando forces a frown, which vanishes a few seconds later as he raises his eyebrows at Nora. “So, can I rent this game?”

“I will fillet you and feed you to my dog,” Nora bangs her desk.

“Ouch!” Rando dramatically places his hand on his heart.

Nora’s voice erupts like a volcano, driven by her disbelief. “I almost thought you understood, but I should have known better. Like always, you never take anything seriously. It’s always just fun and games with you! What about my rambling did you not understand?”

“So you’re telling me you don’t wanna find out what happened to Sean?”

“And you think playing a video-game will give you the answer? Please, come back to the real world.”

“Look, I understand the danger, but let’s calm down and make this simple. You have this disk, and I’d simply like to–”

“This is not for you to decide. This disk only exists for preservation–”

“And to what end?” Rando interrupts her. “I’ve never been close to Sean, but I know one thing very well from the few exchanges we had: He never wanted to preserve for preservation’s sake. He wanted to preserve experiences. Without the future being able to experience the past, you may as well consider this game lost.”

“How dare you… You know what? Take it! But don’t expect me to carry you to the hospital.”

Rando finds no words to respond appropriately. The pause unnerves them both and they stand in awkward silence. Nora bites her lips.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I know you want to help me, but–”

Rando laughs. “It’s fine, Nora. I’ve been told many times I have a punchable face… and a punchable voice and personality and… well, punchable everything, I guess…” he bites his lip, as if feeling a tinge of sadness, then shakes it away with a wide grin.

“Yeah, you really don’t make it easy…” She taps on the desk in thought. “You dabbling in this strange thing isn’t going to bring him back.”

“You’re probably right.”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll find answers. The risks outweigh the benefits.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Tell me you didn’t want to do it yourself,” he notices her fidget, smiles and then continues. “Maybe you stop yourself because you’re scared, or because you’re too rational, I haven’t the foggiest idea. But, as I’ve heard a friend of a friend say recently, look on the bright side. Firstly, unlike others, I believe you. Second, I’m the only one crazy enough to investigate this on your behalf. Third, even if I end up a vegetable, nothing of value would be lost to you. I’d say that’s a three for one deal of a lifetime. What do you say?”

Her voice softens so much it threatens to smother Rando with a sudden burst of compassion.

“…Are you depressed? Are you… trying to find the short way out?”

“…No? Why would you ask that?”

“Then why are you risking your life me? What are you after? Oh, don’t tell me, you actually–”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I have no intention of kicking the bucket. Also, I’m not doing this for you, I just want to rent the game. Like you said, it’s always just fun and games with me. What’s more fun than a good mystery to investigate, aye?”

The librarian stares at him in disbelief, as if she’s watching a clown trying to act cool. A mix of befuddlement, annoyance, and concern plays across her face, eventually causing her to pout so hard that she resembles a duck. Then, giving into the hopeless situation, she snickers to herself.

“Fine. You win.” Nora inserts the disk into her computer to copy the game onto her flash drive. Then, clicking her ballpen, she instructs Rando, “Now wipe that stupid smile off your face and pay attention.”