Gabriel was the kind of person who never stopped talking.

He would greet me with “Fight me, devil spawn!” or something even cheesier. Each of his attacks came with a range of too-serious roleplay to cringe-worthy insults. Even when I finished him off, he would still be chattering, trying to taunt me. He relished in the attention it brought, given his smug look whenever the crowd cheered.

Now, he was uncannily quiet. His eyes flitted to the floor, so all I could see was the top of his curls, lusterless in the dim light. He didn’t seem confident anymore, just dull. Small. A completely different person.

He wasn’t looking for a fight this time.

My hand had unconsciously shot up to summon my spear. I lowered it. A breeze rustled through the tall grass framing the pathway as we faced each other. Fireflies had emerged from brush, gentle blinks of warning lights. Still, neither of us spoke. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t even know where to start.

Seeing him like this, I wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t pinpoint what for. For fighting the fights that he started? For beating him up in a game where players were supposed to beat each other up? Neither of those was the issue here—I just had no idea how to approach the fact that my self-proclaimed archnemesis was very likely a minor.

This was so tiresome.

My mind churned for something to say. “Look, I—”

“Did you,” he blurted. “Uh. Tell anyone that I…”

His voice was hard to get used to. Its inflections fell into a familiar lilt, as if he was nervous or angry all the time. Yet, everything sounded too reedy and hoarse coming out of his mouth.

“No,” I said. Who was there for me to tell? Michi? I almost snorted at the thought, but I didn’t say that out loud.

“Oh.” His tone tightened. ”Look, I know you have a lot against me.”

I really didn’t.

“But let me tell you this: even if you’re hiding my secret, waiting for the perfect opportunity to use it against me—I don’t have anything to give to you.” His words were beginning to rush over each other. “I—I mean, you can still tell me. I’ll try my best right now to do anything you want… Just don’t—just don’t tell anyone.”

It took me a while to digest everything. Half of what he was saying didn’t even make any sense. I remained silent.

His face scrunched up at that, and in a smaller voice, he added, “please.”

Oh. It clicked into place. He thought that I was going to blackmail him.

“No.”

He jerked up. “But—!”

“No,“ I repeated. “I’m not going to tell anyone.” I wasn’t that kind of person. I was just some loser who apparently had been spending my time fighting kids.

He didn’t relax.

“You don’t want to take something from me?”

“No.”

“You don’t want to ruin my reputation?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t want to… to hurt me?”

What kind of stupid scenarios had this guy been thinking about? I was getting annoyed by all these useless questions.

“No.”

“Then what do you want?”

I sighed. “I don’t want anything from you. As you said, nothing you have is valuable to me.”

He remained silent, eyes scrunched up, as if trying to process what I said. I hovered there awkwardly.

“So…” A slow frown grew on his face. “So I’ve been worrying about that for weeks, only to find out it was for nothing? You just—”

He stopped. His hands moved as if to bury his face in them, but they halted and dropped halfway through the action. Despite no physical changes in his avatar’s countenance, I could’ve sworn he was flushing.

“So I really said all that, for nothing?”

The blue eyes on his mortified face began blazing.

“I’ve been spending all my time running from people who want to talk to me! I even turned off my name tag, and I had to change my armor, just so people wouldn’t recognize me! Do you know how long I’ve been hiding this from everyone?” All his reserves had disappeared. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How the hell would I have—”

“And all my artifacts—absolutely ruined! Especially that pendant! Do you know how rare glamour artifacts are?”

He meant it rhetorically, but I had to think about it for a second. I actually had the least experience with glamour artifacts. When the game had just launched, I quickly realized they were useless to me. My masks hid my appearance, anyway, and I didn’t need to alter my voice.

However, they were understandably the least common artifacts on the server. Even the weakest ones that changed the shape of one’s ears were hard to find. Thus, items that completely altered appearances or voices were considered legendary.

Gabriel had somehow gotten hold of a high-level one years ago. I wondered how he found it.

“Which dungeon was it from?”

“It was a Dragon Scale Pendant from the Emerald Dungeon.” He glared. “So it was pretty rare! And you broke it, along with a bunch of my other buffs. You should’ve apologized by now.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I had been getting there. I didn’t need a kid to tell me what I needed to do. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I spend so much time on this game, I need my voice! I didn’t know how people were going to get used to it if I used speech-to-text. I mean, that’s not discreet at all!”

It didn’t seem like a big deal to me. People used speech-to-text all the time, courtesy of the game’s auto-translation system. I’d never heard any complaints about it. I supposed Gabriel was a different case, though, judging from all the connections he had. Hypocritical as it was, I felt he spent an unhealthy amount of hours here.

I said. “Look, kid—”

“Don’t call me kid!”

I resisted the urge to lash back. “I know that you’re a teen with a lot of time on your hands.” Hopefully, he was a teenager. He sounded like one. “And I’m sure you can definitely handle adult games.” I cringed at how patronizing that sounded. “But this server really isn't a place for minors to interact.”

I took a moment to run through all the non-kid-friendly spaces in my head. There was a lot. Hell, I was pretty sure that there were even brothels in Akoras, though I wasn’t exactly sure how they worked. I was happy to let that remain a mystery. “You’re especially prominent, so maybe you should lay off the game a bit anyway. Probably focus on schoolwork or something.”

He bristled. “It’s the middle of July. I don’t have schoolwork. Besides, I can handle it. I’ve been doing just fine for the past year. I don’t need you of all people to tell me what to do!”

That was the part I was getting to. “How… How old are you?”

The eyes trained sullenly back onto the ground.

“Fourteen.” He mumbled. “But I turn fifteen this year! When school starts!”

I stared. He noticed I was silent and bristled, “Got a problem with that?”

What the hell. This whole time I had been drop-kicking some middle-schooler. This whole time.

“Nah,” I said. My own voice surprised me with how uneven it sounded. My mind raced to the multitudes of times I had seen him per week. His artifacts never defeated me, but I was sure that even full-time players envied them. All of his inventory and character level were the result of hours and hours of grinding every day.

Over a year and a half. That was when I first met him. A year and a half ago, Gabriel was thirteen—maybe even twelve. I tried to imagine a twelve-year-old facing me in place of that fair-haired avatar.

“Are you done asking questions?” He snapped.

My hand twitched. “I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? You destroyed my months of effort!” He flung out a hand. “Just like you did to everyone else! You’re a menace to the server, and it’s my duty to defeat you.”

The dumbass still hadn’t figured out that I had been sparing him for the past year. “Who do you think you are?”

“Your challenger.” A flash of light pierced through the darkened path. It was so bright that even the bark of the trees to my left glowed silver. Gabriel raised his sword up in the sky, gleaming like a beacon, then pointed it at me. “Fight me.”

What the hell was wrong with this guy?

It took all my years of self-control to not kill him on the spot. I finally had enough.

This wasn’t my problem to deal with in the first place. He wasn’t my little brother or anything. Besides, if he had taken care of himself online for over a year, he was fine.

“Kid—”

“Don’t call me k—!”

“I’ll help you get your glamour pendant back.” I let the weight of the words sink in. Before he could open his mouth again, I quickly continued. “I was the one who broke it, after all. It’s only fair. That’s what you’re all about, right?”

His mouth clicked shut, eyes still narrowed.

“It’s useless trying to gain my trust. You probably don’t even know how to get it.”

I didn’t, but he wasn’t stupid enough to forget that I frequently soloed fatal dungeons on my own.

“This will be beneficial for both of us. Because after I help you, no more duels. Don’t bother me anymore.” This way, I could make amends and get him off my back. Two birds, one stone.

His chin jutted out. “What if I don’t agree?”

This guy didn’t make anything easy. Once again, I resisted the urge to put a dent in his head. “You don’t get to set the terms, Gabriel.”

His expression froze up. I almost felt bad for pushing it that far—almost. Judging from the way he looked down glumly, it worked. I could barely hear him mumbling to the floor.

“The Argentum faction backs a line of exclusive shops in the Marketplace. There could be something there. But the price…”

I bit my tongue. It had been months since I visited the Marketplace, the heart of the Capitol, but it was probably just as unpleasant as I remembered. Still, I couldn’t back down. “Then I’ll buy it for you. You set a meeting time.”

Gabriel’s head shot up.

“Um.” His wide eyes blinked owlishly. “Really?”

I wasn’t going to repeat myself. I tilted my head.

“But…” My hand tightened into a fist, and he flinched. “Tomorrow morning at the Central Plaza. 8 o’clock Eastern Time.” His lips pressed against each other as if to stop himself from speaking too quickly. “That’s not too early, is it?”

Of course, he was a morning person. But I shook my head. The earlier I got this over with, the faster I could move on with my life.

He didn’t relax. “There’s a catch, isn’t it?”

“As long as you don’t run away again, we will have no problems.”

He puffed up, tenacity immediately gone. Even when things had changed so much, his reactions were still the same. “I didn’t run away!”

“Then we won’t have any problems.”

I scoffed at how quickly relief filled his face as he slowly let his shoulders sag. In the end, he was just a naive kid. When he saw that I noticed his expression, he coughed into his sleeve.

“Okay.” He whispered, then cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll see you there.”

Before I could respond, he jolted.

“I’m not thanking you! Don’t even think about it!” He pointed at me accusingly. “You’re still my mortal enemy!”

I wasn’t even able to blink before he vanished. Now, it was just me, the silent pathway, and the stars.

I sighed. My bones felt heavy. A semblance of a headache was forming between my eyes. I was exhausted. Gabriel tended to have that effect on me. If everything went well, that wouldn’t have to happen anymore.

I opened my logoff screen myself, bading one last glance at the view. Trees shimmered in the wind, fireflies waved among their branches. It all faded to white as I returned to the real world.

See you there.

/ / / / /

I blinked through the darkness around me. Unlike the soft glow of the Akorian night, my room was pitch black. The light from my headset shone a green speck on the opposing wall.

Its metal band was cool to the touch as I placed it to the side, shoving away empty ramen cups to make space. A Red Bull can clattered to the cheap hardwood floor. I didn’t bother picking it up.

Half-heartedly, I reached for the power button on my monitor. With a slow whir, illumination seared from the screen, effectively blinding me. Briefly, I considered turning on the light to make it better. But that meant I would have to gather the energy to get off my chair and stumble across the piles of clothes on the floor. Besides, I didn’t particularly want to be reminded of the shitty appearance of my room at the moment.

Anyway, I had a job to do. I squinted at the dusty monitor, clicking open the last email I had with my latest client. I hadn’t double-checked the requirements yet, and I’d rather not deal with an unsatisfied employer when the rent deadline was looming so soon.

The contents of the screen swam in my vision. Though the words sat there starkly, I couldn’t seem to register them at all. I scrubbed my hands through my greasy hair, trying to focus. Sloppy work or not, I needed to finish. The deadline was tomorrow.

The buzzing of my phone next to the keyboard broke the silence. I glanced at the caller’s name: Mom.

What terrible timing.

I let it vibrate there, stared at it for a moment. Felt its tremors against the worn wood of my desk. It had been four months since she last reached out, and she definitely hadn’t said anything good. I contemplated dismissing the call. If she asked later, I could always give her the excuse that I was busy, or that it was so late that I was already asleep.

The buzzing died off, and the screen light faded. I shifted back towards the monitor, where I had pulled up my code. Everything was still too muddled. My mind stumbled through the process of debugging.

I had barely edited a line before my phone lit up again.

I buried a sigh. Seemed like I couldn’t get away with it this time. I answered the call, letting the phone sit on the desk.

“Lukas!” Even if she lived fourteen hours away, it still felt like my mother was hovering right over my shoulder. “Why weren’t you answering?”

“I was occupied.” I put my elbows on the desk, brushing away wrappers and more cans for mouse space. It was getting musty here. I wished I had a window.

“You’ve been lazing off, again, haven't you?”

“No.” I stared at the monitor. “I’m caught up in some... work.”

“Work? This late?” She clicked her tongue, a habit that had formed when I started bringing home grades lower than A’s in high school. If only she had known what I would be like now. “Ah, I knew you wouldn’t be able to sustain yourself long with freelancing.”

“Mom, I’m fine.” She was silent. “I can still afford rent.”

“You mean that terrible apartment?” Her voice rose, tinny through the speaker. “Oh, if only you hadn’t dropped out of university. You ruined your career!”

It seemed we had gotten to that part of the conversation much quicker than expected.

“...How’s dad?” We never really knew what to say to each other, but at least I could manage his stony disapproval. Unlike my mother, he at least already accepted that I was a failure.

She went on as if she didn’t hear me. “Things could improve a lot with a girlfriend, Lukas. When are you going to get one? You’re already twenty-six years old! You need to get married. Once you start a family, you'll have a much more stable life!”

Ah, we were at the next point already.

“I want—I need to focus on work” I stared at the coding screen pulled up in front of me. Yep, it looked like I was going to be looking up the solution again.

“You are struggling, aren’t you? This is why you should’ve stayed in university, earned a nice degree.”

I answered with silence.

“And put in more effort. I’m your mother. I’m allowed to be worried about my son. I didn’t raise you to be like this.”

She took a breath, and I took the chance to cut in. “Sorry, Mom. I’m going to hang up. I’m pretty tired.” That part was true, at least. “I’ll call you next time.”

Once again, she ignored me. “You were such an accomplished child back then. What made you this way?”

For over four years, our spotted calls had gone like this. I didn’t bother entertaining her with an answer anymore. “Good night.”

I ended the call with a droning beep. Just for a moment, I allowed my head to sink into my hands. It was my fault that my mother only nagged me during calls. I was the one who spent all my time on Akoras instead of in reality. I was the one who was barely able to get out of bed, clean my room. Whatever I was known as in the game, it changed nothing in real life. I was a worthless person to society. I just didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

Worthless people still had to pay the bills, though. I straightened, brushing my overgrown bangs out of my face. I glanced at the miniature clock ticking away at the bottom of my screen.

It was 12:05 am, and the deadline was tomorrow morning—well, this morning. It was also the morning that I had agreed to meet up with Gabriel.

I stared at the strips of code, then back at the clock, and sighed.

It looked like I wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight, either.