// April 16, around ten o’clock in the evening //

“My death shall be beautiful…” was the line in the diary of an eleven-year-old girl that now on the inside of my eyelids blazing in the darkness.

For as long as I can remember, I have never been afraid of death. The feeling of walking on the edge, the nearness of the unknown and the end of the pain – I had always been drawn to take a sip from the cup of the Death Reaper. In a way, it was my dream to leave beautifully... and beautiful. I prepared for it for a long time, it took me a while to get there, and now it is clear that my every move, every action, every decision I made led to this moment. In the box in the bottom drawer of my bedroom dresser was an ampoule of poison – quick and painless.

I wanted to leave at sunset, sitting on a rocking bench in the garden, looking up at the sky, watching the stars light up. I wanted to breathe in the scents of wild roses and daisies growing haphazardly underfoot, listen to the birds in the bushes of bird cherry and just smile – insanely happy and easy, not worrying about tomorrow, not regretting the past in my last heartbeat. All my life I had planned for these last breaths to forget about the whole world, about duty and responsibility, about family and friends, about my mangled soul and broken psyche in childhood. I wanted to get lost and feel alive for once in my life. And then leave, feeling life itself without regret on my lips.

And now... I grinned, coming to my senses. I was dreaming some kind of delusion, like I’d been kidnapped, dragged into a dark basement and stripped for an organ operation... I opened my eyes sharply, but the picture didn’t change, it was dark and almost silent. The sound of club music and people’s laughter came as if from behind a very thick glass.

My throat was tightened by a wide garrotte, there were metal hoops on my arms and legs, and I seemed to be in a standing position, as my heels were already aching from the immobility and heaviness.

“Hey, can anyone hear me?” I shouted, but the question thumped deafly against the wall in front of me, not breaking through.

So...

“I’m not in a coffin, am I?” I was thinking aloud, to put a calming note on the situation.

I tried to move my right leg, but my knee was chained, the velvet upholstery was tickling my skin.

“This is going to be the craziest joke of my life,” I laughed, wanting to chase away the incipient fear with this ridiculous action.

Yes, I wanted to die, but in the ‘dead suitcase’ I planned to be already lifeless. My heart beat faster, the panic hadn’t yet manifested itself, but my breathing was coming in quicker and wheezier than usual.

If this continues, how long will I stay? How much air is there?

With my head, the only part of my body I could move, I tried tapping on the back wall. But even the part of the mind responsible for meaningless and unfounded hope was categorically pessimistic.

I closed my eyes, relaxing completely. Despair was supposed to set in, but the hopelessness didn’t come. I was going to die anyway, so how was the suffocation from lack of air worse than the poison?

Except that the agony of death frightened me a little...

Sometimes I would slip into unconsciousness, losing touch with reality, but time after time I would wake up in the dark, in a cramped space. It was getting harder to breathe. I was thirsty and wanted to go to the toilet.

I cursed myself a thousand times for deciding to visit the dentist before dying.

Suddenly something subtly changed. The outside world grew louder, invisible shutters clicked, the front wall moved away. There were people around, the light of the lamps deafening the vision, but too loud music and laughs of the audience cut the ears.

“Who’s here?” I was approached by a guy who reeked of alcohol. Staggering around, he almost bumped his nose into my chest. It was only now that I realized that I was completely ***** in front of the drunken party people, with only a small wooden sign covering my nipples, which were sharpened in the cold. “Oh, look, there’s something written here... ‘Be-e-wa-re ov the-e bo-mb!’ he spelled it out, causing the others to crack up in another burst of laughter.

Another taller guy with long blond hair stepped out of the crowd, squinted his eyes at me and ran his gaze over the inscription.

“Look, Grant,” he turned to someone I couldn’t see, “she’s quite good.”

“Not an atomic weapon, but it’s a small bomb,” the chuckles came from the cheering lads.

“More like a grenade. You wouldn’t mind throwing one of those after you’ve used it.”

“I like mines better...”

The company was getting more and more heated, making me blush and angry. I would have preferred never to hear those words and expressions. And I wanted to run away, but I still couldn’t move even my fingers.

“There’s a button,” the first guy tapped clumsily on the round plate next to my right shoulder.

The shackles came undone and I flew to the floor, hitting my knees painfully, but I quickly shifted and covered myself with my hands. I wanted to put my eyelids down and plug my ears, not to feel the drunken stares, not to hear the conversations. But I searched, dashing my eyes around my surroundings, for a way out, any exit, an opening for escape.

Suddenly the crowd parted and I found myself ten meters from a low platform in the center of the hall. There were other people sitting in the chairs, more serious, more sober, higher in status and position. Some were sipping whisky and smoking cigars, but all of them were also looking at me with idle curiosity.

I glanced up at the man in the middle chair, and he leaned forward to get a better look at me. He was still very young, light skin, thin wrists crossed under his chin. Narrow black eyes, hair a shade lighter. But when I caught his gaze, an electric shock shot through my soul. He stared at me silently, studying me, but it made me want to run away.

And I realized clearly that I would never be able to forget those eyes.

They pierced, drowned, and poured over me with indifference.

They were so clear and memorable.

It sent shivers down my spine.

// 36 hours ago //

“We all die, but we don’t all live,” with this phrase, which shattered my whole established world, the president began this morning.

I remember the apple tree petals bouncing gently off the branches and drowning in the air currents, the scent spreading around, the grass turning green, gaining sap, and the belated dandelions blooming. Spring had come early.

I remember the scalding taste of coffee, the bitter steam touching my lips, the stains on the table from the damp cloth, the grumbling noise of the dishwasher, the waiter taking the plates away from the table.

I remember the rattling of the hologram over the surface of the infovisor, the stern, wrinkled face of the head of the country, our protector and bulwark of security and prosperity. I remember the dark gaze, staring fearlessly into nowhere, the wide mouth that spoke weighty and so dangerous to the sanity of many.

“The Federation Council is divided on this matter, but my vote has been decisive. By the power vested in me by the people, I declare the shutdown of all Ainsoft servers and the closure of associated businesses and organisations that keep the virtual world running. In three days’ time, at precisely ten o’clock in the morning, the satellites will be knocked out of orbit.”

I remember the cup slipping from my cold fingers, breaking the silence with a wild clang, shards decorating the tile floor. Somewhere beneath my chest, a new feeling ached, still faint and uncontrasted, but tears already stung my eyes with pity for myself and for the rest of the world at the same time.

What does it mean ‘will be knocked out ‘? What is meant by ‘will shut down all the servers’? Are they serious? Is the president making a joke on the eve of the election?

There has been talk of closing down Virtul for a long time, but few assumed that the leftist party would move on from idle talk to action, much less such decisive action. If they destroy the game, they will not only undermine the country’s economy but also break the lives of millions of people. Many will lose the meaning of life.

The hologram light went out, the visor buzzed for a few seconds and then went into sleep mode. I closed my eyes and whispered the login word, the bars and numbers lit up under my eyelids. The lenses warmed up a little, loading additional gigabytes of the latest update. It seemed this time to be literally the last.

“Good morning, player 13-06-13. Nice to see you back in the world of reality breakers,” the System greeted me in a pleasant, deep voice. “Shall I send you straight to the teleportation tower or to the training room?”

“No. First to the town, the central square.”

“It shall be as you’ve ordered.”

The surroundings immediately went dark, and a loading line appeared on the bottom left. I crossed my arms across my chest, prepared to endure this slow boot-trial. The news was likely to excite not only the players of Unica, but of other countries as well, so the fountain square would now be crowded. Everyone was eager to get into the gossip cradle and complain about life or gloat over others. To everyone’s taste.

“While the city of Vairan is loading, please listen to the messages. The first one…”

I snapped my fingers quietly and lifted my right hand to increase the sound.

“Mom, this is Adisi. I just got home from school. I’ve already had lunch and done my homework, can I go visit Dixie? I know you’ll let me, so I left early. Thanks, mom.

Also, when are you and dad going to buy me a tame dravosaurus? Vicky and Michaelir already have ones and ride them to school. Buy me one, too, huh? I found out that if I upgrade it to level 30 and craft a control collar, it will be faster than our sports car.

And yes, if on the way to school I suddenly get attacked by wild irglings or toothbenders, a sports car can’t protect me, but a dravosaurus can, because every couple of seconds he regenerates his health scale to a hundred points.

Kisses, mom. I hope my arguments have convinced you. You and dad still have the money from selling that rare potion you made last month, don’t you?”

I couldn’t help but smile. Hardly a week goes by when Di is already asking her to buy something super expensive again. Where am I supposed to find a dravosaurus in the middle of a spring hunt? Only if it’s in the Crackling Woods in the lower dungeons of Virtul. I’ll get Vera and Kitana to buy some new swords. It’s been a long time since we’ve been to a high level instance. It might be a good way to have some fun...

The smile faded from my face. No, we weren’t going to have any fun. I clenched my teeth until it hurt, my fingernails digging into my skin to cover the pain of my soul with the pain of my body. Everything inside me was overturning, shaking and threatening to collapse, to shatter into tiny pieces.

How did we come to this? It wasn’t enough for the government to mess up our material lives with endless new laws and taxes, now they’ve decided to mess up our mental balance? Apathetic and insane people are much easier to rule, aren’t they?

“Second message.“

“Hey, menacing little swordswoman, who hasn’t picked up a weapon bigger than a kitchen knife in five days, are you going to earn points for the position of deputy guild leader? Am I encouraging these slacker guildmates to vote for you for nothing? Black Wolf may be a loner in life, but she’s got followers, too. Some kind of competition. Are you going to do politics in our clan? She’s going to be the boss for a second term... yeah, right. Where the hell are you? To be at the training ground by ten in the morning!”

Vera, as always, was sharp-tongued and quick to crack. I didn’t care much for her nagging for whatever reason, but now it was a little offensive. She was the one who had asked me to brew a potion to make the leather armor stronger. And she complained about something like that? She wasn’t the one who had spent two days in the marshes looking for pungent cloudberries.

“Third message.”

“I’m going to stay on the expedition for two more days, my love. We stumbled upon the tracks of a white dragon. If I’m lucky, I’ll bring home rich trophies. By the way, I found the lake pearl you told me about. You can get it after completing a quest from Avisoriel, the maiden of Bitter Lake. Did you get the message from Adi about the dravosaurus yet?”

Just as I was about to press the voicemail answer button, the wind hit me in the face, twirling the hem of my traveling dress, one braid on my temple unraveled, and I mentally made a note to go into appearance editing mode. After all, I had wanted a short haircut for a long time.

“The central city of Vairan, peaceful territory, western district. 10:03 a.m.,” a male program voice pathetically proclaimed the caption that appeared in the corner of the screen.

“Because of the large concentration of players in the location some objects will be displayed superficially, without detailed processing,” the System picked up the baton.

“Would you like to rent a vehicle?” a friendly, tanned old man raised his head, invitingly pointing to the panel of available means of transportation.

Ignoring the invitation, I pressed the inventory button and summoned the mercenary’s cloak. I didn’t want to show my face in the capital and run into a lot of friends and enemies. The streets of Virtul were most likely in chaos, resembling the imminent apocalypse. Many players probably felt freedom and impunity because the end was near.

Yeah, bad luck for the foreign regulars. They’re in a tough three days until our servers get shut down. I clenched my jaw again.

“If I could, I would kill the president and all his henchmen,” I breathed out softly.

I put the hood over my head, pushed the door open, and went outside.

The upper city was dazzling in brightness and light. The sun, the countless lanterns that don’t go out even during the day (no one knew if this was a bug or a specific innovation of the developer), and the shining half-glazed store windows on the ground floors. If ever there was a paradise for ocular masochists, this was it.

I pulled the thick fabric tighter over my forehead. I could have gone to the nearest store and splurged on some goggles with dark lenses, but I didn’t want to waste time.

And the western part, as always, is relatively peaceful. Usually these areas are assigned to the kingdom of Rith. There live quiet guys, pacifist people, who grind frantically on bots and prefer not to engage in conflicts between clans, parties and other game factions.

I displayed the map in front of me. The tiny green dot that showed my location was blinking away in the middle of nowhere, a stone’s throw from the edge of the city. I was grateful the System hadn’t dropped me off in the woods nearby.

Rivers of red, blue, and gray dots flocked to the center, and even the NPCs seemed to think that today’s event was too significant, most of them snapped out of their anchor points.

Yes, it will be difficult for players to catch them, take a quest from them or complete a mission. The System likes to make mischiefs from time to time; the NPCs sometimes go on a round-the-world trip within the city. They are then almost unrealistic to find.

I had one such occasion. I spent two months looking for Gwynn the shoemaker, and he was sitting in a tavern two doors down, drinking tea with the local landlord.

The sea of dots on the map was stirring, crowding and densifying. How many players were there already? A few million? The news, of course, interested everyone without exception.

Soon I, too, will be a drop in this human digital ocean.

I raised my hand to the sky, outlining the seal of the summoning. The bracelet on my wrist warmed up, answering, even purred. I hadn’t called my pet in a long time, and it missed me.

“Aris, appear.”

The shrill cry of a huge bird, a shadow obscured the sun. I looked up, and barely had time to recoil before a hawk fell from the sky like a stone, slowed to the ground and landed softly on my side, begging me to stroke its neck. A few seconds for petting, the hawk’s mobile eyes closed in pleasure for a moment.

“Did you miss me, honey?” I couldn’t contain my smile, and my fingers slid down the bird’s back, brushing over its feathers.

Aris let out a loud half-squeal, startling the two NPCs passing by.

“Shall we fly?”

The airmount understandingly moved sideways toward me, and a rider’s saddle appeared. One second, the last preparations before takeoff, and the sky was a little closer, the clouds parted beneath the broad wings. Higher, higher, I wanted to go even higher.

“Over there...” I mentally marked the point on the map.

The hawk flinched, sensing the direction, flew a little forward and whistled down. And the soul, it seemed, decided to compete in speed, swooped down to my belly and hushed, watching with curiosity for the butterflies that fluttered inside me with delight.

The square was really crowded. After letting Ari go, I sneaked into one of the old bar-like diners. The plasma screens looked ridiculous in a medieval setting. At first glance. Over time, you get used to everything.

The sniper rifles of the latest generation also did not fit the rapier and axe set either, but they even looked harmonious on the two-meter tall ogre. Once again I marveled at the tastes of some players who purposely disfigured the avatar’s appearance, and then I pushed my way through the throng to the visors.

And the news was terrible. On one channel the announcer was talking about ballet and graceful swans, on another one there was an already useless debate about Virtul, and on the third channel drone cameras were filming a bunch of protesters storming the police and fire trucks.

“It’s like going back six centuries in development,” a short nymph with fluffy ears and a tail whispered frustratedly watching the latest video.

“First they will take away our Vir, then our homes, then our last money, our freedom. And then what? Life?” a werewolf-fox was clearly eager to start another uprising of gray separatists, brutally suppressed, by the way. “People, citizens of Virtul and Unica, will we tolerate this?”

Some supported the redhead, but most just looked doomed to a bleak future. Knowing our president and his dictatorial policies, there was no way to make a riot – all ingredients would scatter when the military machine arrived.

“But how can this be?” a woman sobbed in the corner, “I have a son and brother here. Both of them have been buried long ago, their eternity imprints stored only on the Cardin server, and if it’s shut down, I won’t be able to see them anymore. It’s cruel and wrong!”

Some thought in the back of my mind flashed and slipped away. I tried to catch it, but in vain. It ran around, taunting me, but no clarity was forthcoming, and the visor broadcasted growing areas of conflagration. Perhaps this time the military power will not be enough to quell the nation’s resentment. The people would no longer fight for freedom, but for life. After all, Virtul is indeed, for many of us, our everything.

“And the latest news. Thirty radical activists set themselves on fire outside the government building in protest. Thirteen people were saved, the fire spread to nearby buildings, but the flames were extinguished. Representatives of the Ministries of Health and Security urge citizens not to engage in provocative methods of protest that threaten the health of others and the protesters themselves…”

Now there was more anger and hostility in the air. Everyone probably wondered if he was ready to sacrifice his life for the sake of the game.

I didn’t know. I had not yet come to the realization that soon the world I had known since childhood, the world I loved, the world I knew, the world I was ready to devote my dreams and time to, would be gone. I stood in the middle of a stirring sea of people, a brewing gale, and stared blankly at the holograms and text summaries that flashed in rapid lines.

Again and again the recordings from drones, phones and video cameras were scrolling before my eyes. I woke up from the surprised exclamations. The visors went off one by one, all went out, and for a moment the hall was enveloped in deep silence. But then dozens of holograms of the same man flashed simultaneously. A man? Or rather... a monster?

Only a monster in human form could steal the world from us.

“As I said before, our decision is final. Satellites and servers will be disabled without the possibility of restoration. Your futile attempts to go against the law and the system will lead to nothing, all rebellions will soon be suppressed. After three days, any activity related to the game of Virtul will be considered illegal. Violators will be brought to justice. The five terrorists who were captured today for attempting to blow up the building of the Ministry of Internal Control will be executed at sundown.”

A groan of horror and unconscious fear ran through the crowd. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the face of the man who was announcing capital punishment with such ease. As if he didn’t just cut someone’s life short with one word, but was telling us the algorithm for making a banana smoothie.

“I urge you to be calm. By a majority vote of Parliament, our country has decided to go the way of eradicating virtual reality. Think about your lives, about your loved ones, about our future generation. Our children will thank us for the fact that one day we chose a real life, that we chose to live in the present, not in numbers and fictional reveries.”

“To hell with this parliament together with their ‘right’ idea, they don’t understand anything!”

“And the president, too! Let him burn in hell, the antsy bastard...”

The appeal of the head of state went for a second round, as if they had forgotten to change the record. The scolding towards the country’s top officials became more venomous and subtle. And I finally caught up with the elusive thought...

In this world, I have only one close person left.

“Dad,” I exhaled into the void.

And again there was the café, the aroma of coffee, and the music from the rarity radio. My heart raced in fright, my breathing quickened, as if I’d run barefoot back and forth to the international train station.

Father must not find out about the closure of Virtul. He simply won’t be able to bear the news.

The soles of my shoes crunched as I stepped onto the glass field of cup shards. The coffee drips still glistened in the sunlight, driving me to embarrassment. I was ashamed of the floor art, though it transformed the interior, made it much more cozy.

I crouched down to collect the six surviving large pieces of ceramic, my index finger already touched the sharp, rough around the edges of the chip...

“I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up now,” the electronic child’s voice, too cuddly and friendly, tickled my ear unpleasantly. I still haven’t found out the reason why the house cleaners were so loud: maybe the developers screwed up the vocal chords (mixed up a couple of numbers and commands), or the cafe owner was deaf in both ears.

And blind. In both visual beauty receptors. There were cheaper and prettier versions, the global market was large. So why, among all the variety of home helpers, did he choose the TP-32?

“Thank you,” I leaned over slightly and patted the white machine on the back. The robot sang the universal song of hospitality in response.

“We all die, but we don’t all live...” Again the face of the most hated man in the country appeared on the visor. Probably no ruler has ever been so close to his overthrow as Rizor Cirkul after his five-minute appeal to the people.

I put the ring on the payment pad, the little gem on my index finger blinked a few times, informing me that money from my account had been withdrawn. And I hurried to leave the empty cafeteria. I didn’t want to hear that harsh voice of the nastiest man in the universe once more.

On the one hand, you were right, Mr. President. Yes, all mortals die, but you were wrong about life. I lived in Virtul, I felt more alive in it, and I think half the world would agree with me on this – having dared to encroach on our game, you’ve become a threat to our lives.

You dug yourself a hole on the eve of the election. I’ll bet my appendix that there won’t be a third term in your career.

It was apple blossom snowing outside. I stopped in the middle of the street, the air was filling my lungs with the sweet scent of the sunny morning. I closed my eyes for a second and raised my face to the sun, the rays touched my cheeks warmly. It had been a long time since we had such a nice day in the capital.

The silence of the alley was diluted by the growing rumble from the Theater Square; it seemed that people still had hope, since they could go out to rallies and protests. I’d have to go around.

I bit my lip in frustration. It was too long and dangerous to wander around the back alleys. But trying to cross a crowd that could be swept up in a wave of rage at any moment was even more perilous.

The new boots had left me with a few minor blisters. They had managed to ruin my already dull mood, so I returned home sullen and despondent. I kicked off my shoes and stomped barefoot to the garage.

“Father.”

My voice sank into the darkness. If there weren’t heaps of electronic junk and stacks of books, the echo would have gladly answered me instead of silence.

“Dad,” I called a little louder, looking around at the piles of tools and the couple of plates of sandwiches on the work table that were already dried up. He hadn’t even touched his breakfast today.

“You’re here,” was an indifferent reply from the darkest corner. I adjusted my lenses for midnight vision. My father was squatting in front of the mono-server box, fiddling with the soldering iron in the intricacies of the green and blue microcircuits.

“You should eat at least…”

He didn’t even hear me. With hands trembling with impatience, my father screwed the protective cover back on, dropped his glasses, rubbed his tired eyes with his palms, and lay down on the couch. His gray hair stuck together long ago, and I had no idea how many days he hadn’t showered. His skinny fingers traced blindly across his chest, found the medallion with the imprint of eternity in it. A slight movement, and the locket, I didn’t see it – I felt it, sparked with technomagic.

Envy pricked me unpleasantly. My father had never allowed me to take the pendant with my mother’s imprint of eternity. Only once, on my eighteenth birthday, he allowed me to see her in Virtul. The rest of the time, day and night, he lived in his own world, surrounded by the care of the only woman he truly loved. A woman who had last laughed and breathed fifteen years ago.

My father was called a gricker. He was so deeply immersed in digital reality, so addicted to Virtul, that if he had not been one of the main developers of this very game, he would now be scratching the walls with his gaze in a country dispensary, wrapped in a straitjacket.

I threw off my cloak and yanked the scarf sharply, trying to untie it quickly and painlessly. No, I was obviously in a good mood this morning, drawn to creative achievements in the form of tying knots, and now I couldn’t free my neck from this noose. I gave up this futile task, sat down in my favorite chair, and closed my eyes.

The login word, the customary loading screen. And the System’s voice, so familiar to me, announced: “Nice to see you back in Virtul, player 13-06-13. Shall I send you straight to the teleportation tower or to the training room?”

I bit my lip, thinking for a moment.

“To the guild mansion... no, wait. To the Central Market.”

Even magic was not able to speed up the loading of the largest Virtul location, the inter-world marketplace, where not only game trinkets were traded, even the actual currencies of the countries that supported the game mode were honored. I opened the inventory window, and while there was time, I scoured it for trash and long-forgotten junk.

“The province of the Grey Mountains, Agri Central Market, northern pavilions. 11:34 a.m.,” the information note alerted.

The first thing to do was to go to the fence. The inventory bags were empty in about thirty seconds, I sold everything I’d accumulated over the years. Surprisingly, parting with my favorite weapons and equipment wasn’t so hard. Either I just fell asleep in a dream of conscious reality, or I had an unprecedented attack of indifference, but I looked with slight apathy at the overstuffed wagons of the hoarder, driving away with my hard-earned goods.

The money was even more than I expected to get. Well, there was only one thing left to accomplish. The last gift to my daughter was supposed to be unforgettable. I had to try hard to find the biggest dravosaurus on the market.

I walked around six corrals before I stumbled upon the “Wild and Unbridled” shop. I grinned, the name spoke for itself.

“Looking for something special?”

The shopkeeper first looked out from behind the counter, grunted, dragged the box to the stand, and froze, smiling at me with empty black eyes without whites.

“Dravosaurus,” I didn’t say in riddles. I had no desire to waste my time now, though another day I would have tortured the System. I liked sometimes bringing the NPCs to white heat and stuttering.

“Oh, I have something to offer you,” the salesman turned toward the tiny paddocks.

“The biggest and deadliest,” I murmured with a smile. A large sack of gold plumped heavily on the counter.

The shopkeeper immediately pulled out a box with a picture of a toothy skull from his pocket.

“Three thousand,” this crook set the initial amount.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. The System wouldn’t let me buy that easily. If you don’t bargain, you won’t get anything.

“Five hundred,” I decided to kill this damn program at once.

The person opposite rounded his eyes, which made it seem as if two huge black holes had eaten half of his face.

“Two thousand gold and three hundred silver.”

“A thousand gold pieces and five hundred in small change,” I spat an ultimatum in his face and was about to turn around, going to seek my luck in other market stalls.

The black saucer-eyes turned into squinted slits.

“Deal.”

In a minute, having signed the formal documents and received the pet’s passport, I was strolling contentedly down the wide street of the market town. A small dravosaurus that looked like a hybrid of a lizard, a gammy dragon, and a fluffy otter was basking in my arms. I couldn’t wait to see Di’s reaction to her new pet, mount and protector.

But first there was another place waiting for me. I took a teleport crystal out of my pocket.

“To the guild mansion.”

Daylight flickered, the sky darkened into a black agate haze, and then my eyes were dazzled for a moment by the shimmering northern lights. For a couple of seconds, as the structures loaded up, I admired the tattered skies, blackening more and more with each beat of my heart. The headquarters of the Northern Crown was located, as you might guess, on an icy continent. There was always night, the cold, the glow ringing the sky, and the stars twinkling with distant light. And also endless ice and half-stone plants (the only living creatures, other than players, capable to survive the frosty air of the edge of the world).

Only in one window of the mansion was a candle burning, which meant the clan sisters were either on a quest or had decided to go on a raid. Although... How could I forget? Three days left...

I clenched my fingers on the hilt of my sword, chasing away the bleak thoughts. This was no time for regrets.

And then I took the box with the little dravosaurus in both hands, to make it easier to hold. Unfortunately, I couldn’t put it in my inventory – it was a living creature, and I forgot to buy a special carrier. So I stepped cautiously onto the icy road leading to the guild gates. The silence and the mountains were mesmerizing, and my heart beat faster, excited by such beauty.

In front of the porch, I turned around in a circle, changing my clothes. The head didn’t like it when we walked around the house not in guild uniform. And the red and white tunic with the dark pants and the high heeled boots looked very nice on me. As for the black cloak with the white crown on the back, I loved it madly.

The bloody scarlet carpet led me up the stairs, down the couloir, through the hall of fame with the armor of great warriors, the art gallery. I stopped for a moment in front of my portrait. And a high military-style ponytail suited me very well, after all. I made a note to try it someday in real life.

The door to the office was ajar, I knocked and, without waiting for permission, entered. The head Gridа was invariably seated at her desk. In my memory, she was the first NPC who hardly ever left her anchor point. If she did leave her favorite chair, it was only in an emergency. The last time was when the war with the Black Wolves was about to spill over into a fifth inter-server war, and Grida went to the enemy’s lair to propose a truce.

I knelt on one knee, putting my fist to my chest, the formal greeting of our clan. Yes, for many, guilds were just a collection of players, seeking the benefits of teaming up in extra quests, reputation points, and the occasional tidbits that fell to the guildmates (by law, ten percent of the loot went to the guild). But for me and my friends, the Northern Crown was a clan, a family we were proud to be a part of, proud to fight side by side with our sisters.

“Did my deputy deign to visit me after all?” the head resentfully chanted without taking a break from reading the book. “Is the end of the world near, since you finally decided to remember your direct duties?”

You were right as ever, Grida.

I sank into the second empty chair in the room. The fireplace breathed warmth, it smelled of dry wood and tar. I always felt so relaxed in the guild house. Maybe it was because our mansion was one of the safest places in all of Virtul?

I raised my eyes to the angry Gri, I missed her so much.

“No, I’ll deal with my duties some other time. Today I came here to ask you a favor.”

My friend’s black eyebrows furrowed with anticipation.

“I’m all ears.”

“Can I borrow the Syracillus crystal for a while?”

“Are you going to find a husband?” She shook her tail in displeasure, and, seeing that I was not quick to refute her assumption, uttered such a familiar and annoying statement, “Don’t you remember our clan motto? ‘Never fall in love. Go hard. Survive!’ You still haven’t divorced him?”

I shrugged vaguely. This conversation came up every time I found myself in the head’s office. Having learned from bitter experience, I decided to remain silent.

‘Never fall in love. Go hard. Survive!’ Grida could repeat this phrase sixty times a day. I’ve always had vague doubts, a hunch that the developer in charge of our beloved head was a man-hater. Who knows?

This theory was also confirmed by the fact that only unmarried female players could join our guild. I was one of the exceptions. I didn’t want to get divorced, but I also wanted to join the guild, so I cheated a little, yeah.

Although in Virtul almost everyone was equipped with cheats, cheating has always been in use, the players could never live without it. But the System made concessions in this matter. If the cheats did not interfere with the main course of the game and did not cause inconvenience to other players, the penalties for their use were charged, of course, but the cheats themselves were not confiscated.

So I killed two birds with one stone: I’m married with a child, and the deputy head of one of the most prestigious guilds in Virtul.

“So, will you give me the crystal?”

She gave me a long, searching look.

“All right,” the head finally came to her verdict. “But if you win me at rock-paper-scissors.”

I raised my eyes to the ceiling.

Oh, Great Developers! What was in your minds when you were setting up the System? RPS? Seriously?

With a heavy sigh, I folded my arms across my chest. I needed that crystal badly, or I wouldn’t be able to find Krile in three days. He was hunting in the Uncharted Lands, and the teleports didn’t work there. Only the Syracillus Stone could help, a very rare artifact item that allows you to find any creature in the game, be it a real player, an NPC, or an exceptional mob. No place in the game world has yet been discovered where it could not deliver its keeper.

Reluctantly, I nodded. You never know the result unless you play the game.

We threw our hands out in sync.

“Scissors!”

“Scissors.” Grida’s voice sounded calmer, but the gleam in her eyes spoke volumes.

“Scissors!”

“Paper.”

We shouted the words at the same time, and I froze, afraid to breathe, my heart rejoiced. Uh-huh, I beat my guild head! Grida shrugged in frustration and I was afraid she was going to demand a rematch, but no, the NPC pulled open the top drawer of the desk and placed a crystal that shone with the colors of the seven rainbows in front of me.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I murmured, bowing and retreating towards the exit.

“Remember,” she called out to me, “never fall in love, always go straight ahead and don’t look back, don’t make your heart suffer...”

But I cared little for her advice, I broke the crystal with the inscription ‘home, sweet home’, closed my eyes and immediately smiled, inhaling the smell of pine and wild lemon, feeling the cold wind that blew from the mountain peaks.

Ahead were the high arches of the aqueduct, casting a shadow over the valley. Near the woods, on the edge of the forest, there were a couple of cabins nestled together. My husband and I had deliberately chosen the furthest refuge from civilization, in a remote location, so that no one would interfere with our happiness.

The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, the bees were buzzing, and the butterflies were dancing over the field (perfectly harmless insects, if you don’t touch them). Now, with my high level, they weren’t scary to me, but they used to attack in swarms, and I’d have to swing my sword and cast fire spells for five minutes to get them off my back. Di and Krile were lucky, they were NPCs, and no creature could ever take them. Not like me, real flesh and blood.

“Mommy!”