The midday sun sliced through the loft's wide windows casting sharp angles across the hardwood floors. Lucy moved in a fluid rhythm. Muscles engaging with each precise push-up.

A thin sheen of sweat coated her skin catching the light as she transitioned seamlessly into sit-ups. The real wood under her hands and feet felt grounding. A luxury of Peril’s loft apartment she'd come to appreciate.

She was unashamedly naked. Embracing the simplicity and freedom of it. Each movement was deliberate graceful—an unconscious display of the enhancements coursing through her body.

The past three weeks had been a collision of money and medicine a testament to what wealth could achieve. Near death from multiple organ failure and now here she was muscles firing on all cylinders.

On the sofa nearby Peril lounged comfortably equally at ease only just in her own skin. She sipped her coffee eyes flicking between the subscription business news channel and Lucy's workout. Peril didn't exercise herself claiming she preferred the ‘floor show’ of Lucy's routines.

Lucy smirked at the thought; these naked workouts hadn't been the norm at first. She’d started the week shorts and a light T. After watching her the first time with interest, unwrapping her with her eyes, Peril had asked with typical bluntness and honesty if Lucy would mind exercising naked. As she loved to watch.

Peril was many things—innocent definitely wasn't one of them.

She hadn’t agreed to the request just for Peril though, she was self-honest enough for that. Her girlfriends intense and hungry gaze had led to some fun post-workout showers together these last few days.

As Lucy moved into a stretch she caught Peril's gaze lingering. The M&A corporate news droned on, but Peril seemed genuinely torn between the unfolding business drama and the flex of Lucy's tight muscles. Lucy enjoyed being the distraction; she'd be worried if she couldn't pull Peril's attention.

Her mind wandered back to the clinic. The first week spent unconscious. Machines doing the work her organs no longer could. The second week relearning how to move. Each day a victory. Modern medicine was astounding—if you had the money. Without Peril's wealth she'd be a statistic.

She traced a finger along a fading scar.

The chemicals had ravaged her body. “Overwhelming toxic load leading to multiple organ failure,” as one of her clinic doctors had put it on the medical chart. This had led to acute kidney injury first, and then full double kidney failure. Now cybernetic kidneys hummed quietly within her. A similar scar marked where a full cybernetic liver replacement had been implanted.

Even her heart bore medical cyberware now too, not a full replacement, but tech that made up for the myocardial damage from cardiotoxicity. She'd been lucky—brain and lung damage had just been narrowly avoided.

Finishing her stretches, she headed to the kitchen. Peril seemed engrossed in the news. Eyes focused yet distant. Lucy never cared for business updates. Hell, she barely followed national news. The local Riverside News was her beat; what happened outside her district was another world.

Opening the fridge, she smiled at the new bright yellow note stuck to the door: "Remember to use your outside voice to tell Lucy/Leth/Skadi/Lethanda you love her." With a ♥. The message itself made her heart soar every time she read it.

The slashes between the names caught her eye. Four names. Each a facet of who she was. Peril had acknowledged them all.

She poured herself some apple juice contemplating the woman she'd been living with these past weeks. Peril was a maze of contradictions—carefree spirit, energetic lover, intense artist, enigmatic businesswoman. Sketchpads littered the loft filled with maps and diagrams she'd never dared to examine. Peril would vanish into the back room for hours, and messages pinged frequently on her devices.

Lucy respected the boundaries. She was seeing a new side of Peril. Glimpses of the person behind the fun times they’d spent after Christmas.

What did Aurum have her doing? The why and how of her wealth, or what she was doing remained unspoken. Lucy respected that whatever it was, Peril was genuine enough and unfiltered enough to simply ask her views and opinion if she wanted them.

Returning to the sofa she settled just out of arm's reach. Peril glanced over. A loving look softening her sharp features. She muted the news feed.

"You're never going to ask me, are you?" Peril said suddenly. Blurting out what was clearly at the top of her mind without restraint.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Ask you what?"

"How. Why. Who I really am. What they were looking for." Peril's eyes searched hers. "I‘ve waited days now. Expecting something at some point. You're never going to ask. Are you."

Lucy smiled gently. "No."

Peril looked genuinely perplexed. "Why not? You nearly died because of me. You deserve those answers."

Lucy sighed leaning back. "Who am I to ask who you are? I'm the one with four different names remember? The one with the literal bounty on her head."

Peril nodded slowly. "Fair point."

"Besides," Lucy continued. "You've taken care of me. Respected me. Been genuine with me - more than anyone else ever in my life. You're Peril. That's enough for me."

"I don't even know how you know my name was Lucy," she added. "And I don't really care. Really, I don’t. I trust you. What Aurum has you doing for his organisation? If you need to tell me. I trust that you will."

Peril's eyes shimmered with amusement. "I love you so much," she said a soft laugh escaping. "But despite all those problem solving and critical thinking learnsofts, I can't believe you still think I work for Aurum."

Lucy tilted her head. "Wait, what?"

"Aurum works for me silly.” Peril said softly. “As does Lioncourt."

*

The cool desert breeze whispered against Lethanda's skin. Carrying with it the scent of distant dunes and nocturnal blossoms. She buried her fingers into the thick ethereal mane of her animal companion. Feeling the crackle of energy dance beneath her touch. Threads of glowing spirit light wove through the wolf's fur. Occasionally shedding sparks of lightning that shimmered like fallen stars.

"Good boy," she murmured. Her voice barely more than a breath. She pressed her cheek against his massive shoulder—the wolf easily stood to her hips height. A formidable presence. His eyes gleamed with shadows. Flickers of stormlight in them. A wildness tempered by loyalty.

‘Forever Loyal’, Lethanda thought, remembering the marine motto. Hati embodies that.

They stood together at the heart of an oasis. A fragile jewel amid endless sands. Palm fronds rustled overhead and the gentle trickle of water played a soothing melody.

Yet beneath the serene surface Lethanda sensed the teeming life of the desert night. Crawling. Creeping. Buzzing. Insectoid creatures lurked just beyond the perimeter. Emissaries of the underground hives that infested the region.

She gave the wolf's mane a final affectionate ruffle. Reached into her pouch. "Hungry?" With a swift motion she tossed a slab of his favourite meat into the air. He leaped. Effortlessly snatching it mid-flight with a satisfied howl that echoed against the starlit sky.

A smile tugged at her lips. How had she. Ceri’s ‘sensationalist’. Never embraced the Beast Companion Ranger path before? The warmth of Hati’s presence. The silent communication between them—it was a revelation.

Then again. Ever since the trials of the Forest she'd been almost constantly in the company of others immersed in the clamour of guild life.

Now solitude had its allure.

She still returned to the bustling city hubs for guild events. Even signed up for dungeon crawls, though never as a leader. But as an explorer her journey was hers alone. Punctuated by brief encounters with fellow adventurers on their own quests.

Ceri joined her sometimes. Their laughter mingling with the wind. Helping Kurgrim with his epic blacksmithing quest had been a delightful detour—multi-continent hopping. Guiding him through landscapes she'd come to know intimately. But often she simply wandered. Letting the world's wonders unfold before her.

She pursued quests, here and there. But mostly she hunted rare spawns, or delved into the open world content that Gates of Baraadon offered in abundance. The developers had crafted a realm teeming with secrets and stories for those willing to seek them out. Dynamic events that transformed the environment narratives. That evolved with each action.

Lethanda cherished these moments. Instead of the repetitive ‘kill eight of these’ tasks she found herself mending fences for a beleaguered village. Guiding lost travellers or dispelling ancient curses. Just acting with honour and kindness in the world, helping people without a defined quest.

Each deed rippled outward. The world responding in subtle shifts—a new character appearing. A hidden path revealing itself. The story unfurling like petals of a nocturnal flower. She’d been so locked into dungeon delving that this new type of content hadn’t really registered till now.

She emerged from the oasis. The sands stretching out like a silver sea under the moon's gaze. Her senses sharpened. The ranger's instincts honing in on distant movements. With practiced ease she notched an arrow. The bow an extension of her will. She walked forward, firing. Beasts lurking at the fringes fell to her relentless volleys. Each arrow finding its mark with lethal precision.

Beside her Hati launched into the fray. Anything she tagged he pursued with unbridled ferocity. A whirlwind of shadow and lightning. Together they were unstoppable. And yet, as she watched him bound back to her side tongue lolling in a canine grin - she couldn't help but laugh.

"You're just a big softie aren't you?" she teased.

Before this. She'd dismissed the Beast Companion specialisation. The Shadow Ranger dealt more damage in dungeon raids—a necessity when coordinating with a guild. Efficiency trumped all. But now she realised how much she'd been missing. The synergy with Hati was unparalleled.

Quite frankly the class was overpowered for solo play, Lethanda admitted to herself frequently. She'd always heard whispers among players—rumours that pets made for the best soloing experience. She'd paid them little mind. But experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.

Drawing her bowstring back she unleashed a torrent of arrows. Insects at the edge of her considerable bow range fell, one after another. Her movements steady and unhurried. She walked forward. A harbinger of quiet devastation, as Hati darted ahead ensuring nothing came too close.

Anything that dared breach their perimeter was swiftly dispatched. The efficiency was almost clinical. She was reminded of Lioncourt—how he moved through enemies without hesitation. Leaving a trail of fallen foes in his wake. It was a sobering comparison.

She'd never felt this powerful in the game. Even more so when she realised Hati could loot the fallen as they pressed on—a convenient perk that made their slow march from point A to point B all the more effortless.

Her guildmates had been surprised to say the least. They'd expected her to lag behind in levels given her solo excursions. Instead she was three levels ahead. Her experience bar steadily climbing as she explored.

But today wasn't about the grind. She was headed to Usul's Point—a place of breathtaking beauty. Where the sand dunes rolled like waves frozen in time. The horizon stretched into infinity. It marked the edge of the unpassable sandworms' territory. Creatures of legend and challenge, which blocked any progression past the hill.

Hati bounded ahead, snapping up another snack with evident delight. "Easy there," she called after him. "You'll spoil your dinner."

Oh, Hati. Acquiring him had been an adventure in itself—a complex questline that had her scouring the realms for rare items. Deciphering ancient texts and braving treacherous terrains. But every moment had been worth it. He was more than a companion; he was a kindred spirit.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Usul's Point was just as she remembered. The night sky unfolded above a canvas of stars unmarred by the lights of civilization. The wind whispered secrets known only to the desert carrying a hint of spice and mystery.

She settled onto a smooth rock letting the tranquillity wash over her. Hati lay nearby. His form occasionally flickering with surges of power. Eyes ever watchful.

Her thoughts drifted to Peril. Since the revelation she'd said little. She needed time—a space to sift through her feelings and the myriad questions swirling in her mind.

Peril had understood. "Take your time," she'd said her gaze earnest. There was a vulnerability there. An eagerness to be open. To bridge whatever gap had formed.

So Lethanda had retreated here. Seeking clarity amid the endless dunes.

"What should I ask her?" she mused aloud, eyes tracing the constellations. She glanced at Hati. "The questions could be endless and I know she'd answer them all."

She sighed. "But maybe not knowing everything is better. We live in a dangerous world—I know that now more than ever. Perhaps I protect her by not knowing certain things."

Hati tilted his head ears. Perked as if considering her words.

"You're no help," she said with a soft laugh, reaching over to scratch behind his ears.

He huffed contentedly and flopped onto his back presenting his belly. She obliged. Her fingers weaving through the spectral fur. The sensation both cool and tingling, like touching a cloud charged with static.

As the night deepened she invoked her Ranger's Sanctuary. An aura enveloped them ensuring they would remain undisturbed. It was a small comfort. A bubble of peace in an unpredictable world.

A shooting star streaked across the sky. Its tail a fleeting brushstroke of light. She watched it fade then rose to start a fire. The flames danced, casting a warm glow as she prepared a hearty meal for Hati—he'd earned it.

She sat in contemplation. The crackle of the fire and Hati's gentle munching the only sounds. Questions spun in her head. When she logged off, it would be a time to get answers.

For now, under the vast expanse of the desert sky, she found solace.

*

The chopping knife was a blur against the cutting board. A staccato rhythm echoing in the quiet kitchen. Lucy moved with precise grace. Each slice of the vegetables uniform and swift. The aroma of fresh ingredients mingled in the air as the Chinese meal began to take shape.

She'd only uploaded the basic cookery learnsoft yesterday. Followed by more softs on Chinese cuisine and specific recipes. With her implant's internal AI Lucy had found that she could sequence and prioritise the learning. The entire learnsoft would take two days to fully integrate but Lucy was getting adept at extracting the necessary skills on demand.

Her internal AI highlighted the techniques she needed: how to julienne vegetables, control wok temperatures, manage timing, more. It was like having a fast-lane her learning of very specific high-level knowledge nuggets. And she'd been craving this specific dish.

Peril watched her from across the kitchen island. She was attempting to appear relaxed, but was unable to hide the tension in her eyes.

They'd agreed to talk over dinner. Already Lucy could sense the undercurrent of anxiety. Both wore loose pajamas—Peril had gifted Lucy a set adorned with Gates of Baraadon motifs after she'd come out of the clinic. It was Lucy's first piece of game merchandise and she loved it.

Lucy poured them both cups of green tea. The delicate steam curling upward. She'd genuinely grown to enjoy the stuff and her caffeine-addicted lover was delighted to find her favourite chemical present in yet another form.

"You know." Peril said with a soft laugh. "You're not really taking advantage of your new liver and kidneys. You could be knocking back Scotch and not feel a thing."

Lucy smirked, stirring the tea. "Maybe. But I think they'll have their hands full keeping up with your coffee habit."

She began tossing ingredients into the hot oiled wok at precise intervals. Timing was crucial; the learnsoft had been emphatic about that.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. The sizzling of the wok filled the air as she expertly managed the heat and seasoning. Once finished she plated the meal with a flourish and they sat down at the small dining table. Their tea cups clinked together like champagne glasses.

"So..." Peril began tentatively, "did your VR dive help?"

Lucy took a sip of tea before answering. "Yes, it really did. Thanks for giving me the space I needed."

They ate quietly for a moment. The flavours were rich and satisfying.

"We need to sort out what you're really going to call me while we're together," Lucy said, breaking the silence. A playful grin tugged at her lips. "I'm not about to be called 'slash'-other."

Peril chuckled. Her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Names and personas are a necessary evil in the shadows. Whoever you wish to be, I'll support you."

"With you. In these four walls, or when we're alone, and no one else can hear—I'm Lucy," she said firmly. "I'd like for you to call me that. It's a name that still has meaning for me."

Peril nodded thoughtfully. "I can do that. Skadi remains the mask for the outside world?"

"Exactly. If you ever feel unsafe or unsure about a situation call me Skadi. It's our signal."

"And Lethanda?" Peril inquired a gentle smile playing on her face. "You did have your facial surgery to look more like her. Clearly she resonates with you."

Lucy laughed softly. "I admit choosing to look like my game character might earn me a psych referral. But honestly I spent hours in the character creator crafting that face." She touched her cheek lightly. "This face."

Peril reached across the table her fingers brushing Lucy's hand. "You love it. And I understand. It's a form you've chosen. One that reflects who you are."

"I suppose it is." Lucy squeezed her hand. "And I appreciate that you see that."

"I've grown to love it too," Peril said softly. "I'm no stranger to people needing to change faces and identities. But for you it's been a real journey."

They returned to their meal. Peril took delicate bites. Her appetite modest as always. Lucy found herself worrying if she was eating enough. But decided not to press the issue.

"This is really good," Peril commented between bites. "You might have a future as a chef."

"Thanks," Lucy replied with a grin. "Though I think I'll stick to my day job."

Peril set down her chopsticks her gaze turning serious. "And now your questions for me."

Lucy nodded. "Yes. I do have questions. But before we get into that I want to say—we live in a strange dynamic. Boundaries on what we share are okay. I want you to know that I understand the need for privacy sometimes."

Peril tilted her head. "Ah. The ‘operational compartmentalisation’ from your Marine basic training rears its head."

Lucy chuckled, though instead she thought privately about the relationship learnsoft she'd slotted without mentioning it to Peril. Concepts like privacy boundaries and boundary management had been useful—perhaps she was getting a practical exam right now.

"Alright first question," Lucy began. "Did you have anything to do with Aurum recruiting me? Or have you influenced the jobs he's given me?"

Peril blinked clearly surprised. "That's your first question? That's what's on your mind?"

"Yes," Lucy said simply.

Peril took a moment before answering. "No. Aurum is a professional. He's been embedding himself into the Rain City's underworld for years now developing a network for me. He recruited you completely independently. The jobs he's assigned were his own decisions. I haven't discussed any of them with him."

Lucy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "That's good to hear. Honestly it would've undermined how I viewed my choices and our relationship if you'd been pulling strings."

Peril offered a faint smile. "Well I'm glad to have passed that test."

"Second question," Lucy continued. "Did you have Lioncourt introduce us?"

Peril seemed both amused and exasperated. "These are the things you want to know?"

Lucy laughed at her reaction. "Yes, they are."

Peril shook her head a genuine smile breaking through. "No manipulation there. Lioncourt dragged me out and set us up on a blind date. It was his idea entirely—though I suspect he enjoys playing matchmaker more than he lets on."

"How do you control him?" Lucy asked curiosity piqued. "How can you do anything with that man?"

Peril leaned back contemplating. "Control is a strong word. At best I point him in a direction. Maybe light the fuse. And then get the hell out of the way."

"You had him delivering free food to the homeless," Lucy pointed out. She recalled Lioncourt's out-of-character explanation for his presence at the warehouse that night.

Peril chuckled. "Yes. In his bright Rosso Corsa coloured Ferrari no less."

"But, of course," Lucy said mimicking a faux-French accent. They both laughed.

"Okay next question," Lucy said her tone becoming more serious. "How much did my learning accelerator implant really cost you?"

Peril's smile faded. She stumbled over her words. Starting and stopping several times. She looked at Lucy pleadingly.

"Take your time," Lucy encouraged gently.

Peril took a deep breath. "These aren't the questions I expected," she admitted. "But you deserve honesty."

Lucy waited patiently.

Peril named a sum.

Lucy winced. The figure significantly higher than she'd anticipated—enough to buy Lioncourt several more high-end sports cars. "I suspected it was more. But that's... substantial. Knowing you effectively subsidised me without telling—it stings a bit."

Peril's eyes reflected a mix of guilt and concern. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you or manipulate you. After our chat at Christmas I saw what you wanted to achieve. I knew your funds wouldn't stretch to the equipment that could truly help you. I just wanted to support you."

Lucy nodded slowly. "I understand your intentions were good. But hiding the true cost—it feels like a breach of trust."

Peril looked down at her hands. She started to say something. Stopped. A few unintelligible sounds came out. Then she managed in a strangled whisper, “I'm truly sorry."

They sat in silence for a moment. Lucy sipped her tea gathering her thoughts. She was concerned at the toll this chat was taking on Peril. Should they stop now?

"To be honest," Lucy said finally "I suspected you'd done something like this. But hearing the actual amount makes it more... real."

"This isn't the conversation I was expecting," Peril murmured.

Lucy pressed on. Her voice steady but gentle. "And the expert-level electronic security learnsoft that Aurum has dangled as an incentive for me to dive deeper into his world—is that another gift from you? Where you secretly trying to help me get a job now that I couldn’t be a Clean or Transit? Remain useful? Allow me to earn again before I run out of money?"

Peril's expression shifted to one of distress. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said quickly. "That was unfair. I'm sitting here with organs you paid for keeping me alive. I have no right to throw your kindness back in your face like that."

Peril seemed to shrink into herself her eyes glistening. "I never wanted to make you feel this way." But she wasn’t denying the questioning. Lucy knew she’d hit the nail on the head.

Lucy reached across the table. But Peril pulled back slightly.

"I thought these were things we could discuss," Lucy said softly. "Our relationship is built on trust and honesty."

Peril's voice was barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to help. I admit… I didn't think about how it might affect you… Us."

"I know," Lucy replied softly. "And I appreciate everything you've done. But I needed to address it. There’s a power imbalance in our relationship due to your wealth – we’ve always known that. That’s always been out there. In the open. You saved my life with these cyber-organs. The private clinic. Healthcare beyond anything I could have ever afforded. I’m deeply grateful. I really am. But to use your wealth like this without telling me or it being open…”

“It robs me of agency," she internally winced at the word. The damn relationship learnsoft’s words again. Not hers. “It’s impacted on my ability to make their own choices and act upon them while with you. I’m worried that I now feel obligated to act or make choices based on my feelings of deep financial indebtedness to you, rather than just due to my love of you.” What? A literal definition of self-agency rolling off my tongue now?

Lucy cursed Terrance for having maxed out her implant’s settings on install. Those very first few learnsofts she slotted before reading the GTK manual, and turning everything down a notch or three, were still the most problematic ones.

Peril nodded weakly, tears beginning to spill. "I'm...” she struggles getting the words in order. Managing finally a hoarse whisper, “...so sorry."

Seeing her in such distress, Lucy's resolve melted. She stood and moved around the table wrapping her arms around Peril.

"Hey," she whispered holding her close. "Nothing we've talked about changes how I feel about you."

Peril was unresponsive. Her body tense. She’d shut down completely, Lucy knew. It’d all been too much. She should have stopped.

She cursed internally again at the relationship learnsoft. At her implant. How could something which was meant to support her decision-making have backfired so spectacularly on her? Why hadn’t she been able to stop the flow of words? If this was the learnsofts exam practical - it had failed.

No, she thought bleakly, I’ve failed.

"Let's take a break," Lucy suggested gently. "It's been a lot to process."

She carefully guided Peril to the sofa cradling her as they sat down. She turned on some soft music hoping to create a soothing atmosphere.

Peril rested her head on Lucy's shoulder. Her breaths shallow and uneven.

"I didn't mean to overwhelm you, I’m sorry my love." Lucy said. "I just wanted us to be open with each other. I don’t know what big questions you were expecting me to ask. But they weren’t those ones were they… I love you Peril. Take your time. I’ll be here waiting for you."

Peril lay against her silent. Lucy knew that she possibly couldn’t even hear her right now. She would keep the soft words flowing until Peril resurfaced. The first words she would hear when she broke through again would be soft and kind ones. The only sounds a quiet melody and the distant hum of the city outside.

Whatever shadows and complexities existed in Peril's world Lucy knew that right now the most important thing was to be there for her. To offer comfort and understanding.

She held Peril tightly. Ready to give her all the time she needed.