“Welcome home, hun.” His mother’s voice projected throughout the space.

“Hey Mom.” Saying the words rewound Slip back to a better time in his head, only to be reminded of the memorial prepared in the corner. “Today’s the day, isn’t it?”

“It is. But it’s okay. You know me, your father and your sister will always be in your heart.” Her voice was so perfectly tailored to what Slip remembered when she was alive. Her inflections, comfort. Everything.

Slip limped tentatively over to the ledge where his parents’ and sister’s pictures were, near half-burnt candles and a crafted miniature shelf where their ashes now rested, with an engraving in it that read:

The Disk Family.

Flop E. – Father of two. Proud husband. Expert Gamified hiker.

Lenna – Mother of two. Loving wife. Bead Trainer Extraordinaire.

Flash – Happy daughter. Excited Sister. Showed promise for gamified hiking. Taken too soon.

He looked at the portraits and sighed, not knowing what to do but internalize their likeness in his memory. There was no praying in his world, no god – except for the self-proclaimed Sci-gods – and little hope. Though there were good memories for him… once.

Slip lit a match from the ledge and tilted the candle to light it, thinking back to his mom’s loving arms, his father’s genuine smile, his sister’s glee. He wanted nothing more than to sit around the couch and enjoy their warmth again. He wanted it more than anything. But it was gone.

His brow furrowed tensely. Why couldn’t he just close his eyes and will them to appear in front of him once more?

Why did it hurt so much?

Why?

He clenched his fists, his jaw, grimacing as he almost lost control, as he almost began thrashing just to feel something other than despair. But instead he just exhaled loudly, letting silent tears roll down his face to mourn times past.

A defeatist. Roman’s words echoed in his head. Is that what I am now? he asked his family silently.

“There, there, Slip. You’ll find your way,” his mother’s voice promised.

It was nice of his mom’s bead to meld into the home and provide comfort for the only Disk left breathing after the sido bomb, though it wasn’t enough.

Slip scoffed after paying his respects and limped to the other section of the house, as far away from the sadness as possible. He couldn’t muster being alone in his own thoughts any longer for the night, so he pulled the tablet found today in the Fields and turned it on.

Poof.

Dust flew out of the speakers again, making him cough and wave the cloud out of his face. And when he saw a familiar glow of the device powering up, when he heard a crowd chanting Red’s name, the duel resumed on screen to envelope him once more. The contender had so many tricks up his sleeve that Slip was at the edge of his seat to find out what would happen next. Red had to be crafty to stand toe-to-toe with a brute twice his size, didn’t he?

Slip imagined himself in place of Red and his friend Gul in place of the Cleaver – manifesting weapons through such smoothly working Tech, mastering techniques through high-leveled stats. If only his bead worked like theirs.

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In a bout of unhinged excitement, Slip willed his dirk to manifest in his palm and began mimicking stances Red held. For hours he watched, paused, rewound, and analyzed again. He wanted perfect defensive form… and crowd-pleasing swagger, and energy.

For what? A dark voice scoffed in his head. So you can roam the Fields of garbage faster? Pathetic.

“Who am I kidding? I’m an Un-ranked Void like everyone else here.” He looked to his open palm as the tiny glowing dirk slowly unmade itself and scurried back into his pores, leaving a sad face inked into his skin at the end of it. “Don’t cry for me, Tammy. Cry for—”

Another glimpse of a shadow interrupted his speech. He ducked out of fear and narrowed his eyes, willing his bead onto his optic nerve again.

He looked one way; everything was outlined in grey and black. Then the other. More of the same.

Am I losing it?

He took a few hesitant steps around the couch, forming the dirk in his right hand again. “Who’s there? Stop hiding!” he yelled, knowing any attempt at stealth was out the window due to his sparking leg. “For your information, whoever you are, the bead protecting this burrow will just trap you if I demand it,” he lied, rounding another piece of furniture, trembling at the idea of being slashed bloody in his home. Though at this point he was pretty sure he was seeing things, and just needed to go to bed. It was only a figment. A glimpse of nothing. A spot in his vision.

Yeah. Maybe it is time for an early rest. He sighed, angry at himself for being so jittery a moment prior. Soon after when his mind began to calm, he eventually laughed at his own stupidity.

What would the other Fieldys think if they were recording me, right now?

I’d never live it down for the rest of my days, that’s for sure.

He relaxed at the thought, smirking, peeking under the legs of a small table just to exhaust his search.

“Ah!”

A shade of red outlined for the briefest of seconds.

Slip gasped when a figure burst from its hiding spot, and then lunged at the silhouette somersaulting away. It leapt high for the ladder – catching a rung mid-length and bursting through the closed hatch.

It had ten times Slip’s agility, easy. The shadow was so far ahead he thought it a beast that somehow squirmed into his abode. Yet, what he glimpsed within the blur of motion told him otherwise. A long-braided ponytail and a fully metallic arm extending throughout half of the figure’s back begged a different conclusion. A girl.

His heart thundered in his chest from adrenaline, and he could feel Tammy rustling around his body too. He hadn’t experienced this kind of danger since the bomb. An assassin? A thief? Why? He clutched his chest while taking a few hesitant steps towards the ladder, staring high to the flapping hatch and exposed sky beyond.

She was long gone, already. Whoever she was.

“Who would even—” Slip spoke through labored breathing. “I have nothing here to take.” He shook his head, perplexed, looking around to remind himself of the truth of it. “Nothing at all. Why?”

A glimmering item on the floor between his feet suddenly caught his eye. “She dropped something.”

Slip crouched down to inspect a square-shaped disc with a bead-code outlined in green in the corner. He analyzed each side, front and back, hoping it wouldn’t explode in his face, and then pressed his palm on the code so Tammy could work her magic.

Bzzzp.

The contraption unpacked into a thin slab with block letters forming on it. A note:

We have been watching you, Slip Disk, since your survival of sido…

We don’t know how you pulled through a multi-hemorrhaging psionic attack on your Tech, but it seems you are tougher than you look…

Make no mistake. You are the only living Tech-infused being that ever survived a direct blast of a sido bomb.

The only one.

But that mere fact alone means nothing, does it? You work the Fields day after day, uselessly, because there are no other options for you…

It is a waste, Slip Disk. A waste of something potentially glorious…

But what if you were offered a chance at redemption? Vengeance… on those who destroyed your home and everything you loved. What if you were summoned to answer a call? Would you possess the courage to face a life of pain and risk? To perhaps be one day built up into something worthy of retribution.

Accept my offer. Wait until the campfires are extinguished and your neighbors are down-hatch. At midnight, walk a half-mile due south from your burrow, and therein will align a path illuminated for you to follow.

Decline my offer. Do nothing and return to your meaningless day-to-day, for no one would believe you if you told them of this night.

Slip read the note twice to be sure he wasn’t imagining it. Nope. He read it right. Someone was beckoning him, and by the stats of whoever invaded his burrow, they were powerful. Much more so than any Fieldy shoving him around.

This was different… perhaps something more than an Un-ranked Void.

He stared blankly at the slab until it dissipated into sand in his fingertips, making a mess at his feet, and then stared up to the scorched sky.

I have nothing to lose.