Back To Work

"Holy fucking shit. You're her, aren't you? The one who took down Desdenia?" he says. "I don't know why I had a hunch, but it was you, wasn't it?"

"What? Who is Desdenia?"

"Oh, come on. Are you embarrassed about playing or something? She deleted the video of your encounter, but someone snatched it, and now it's a sensation. It's given everyone hope," he says.

"Hope for what? Please don't tell me that I'm some kind of a token for rebellion against Starford."

"Hope that she can be killed. And you let her live! Why did you do that? She's going to be your strongest opponent if you survive all the other Starfordians."

"I felt sorry for her."

"Why would you feel sorry for her? She's got millions of sponsors and doesn't need the money, but she'll probably win it anyway."

It feels so strange to discuss Desdenia and the game with a real person. Speaking about Amoria this way feels so out of place that I feel like this is the VR experience, and not the other way around.

We walk in silence for a while. He greets people as we move through the winding corridors. A kid kicks a ball to him and he deftly returns it to him with a kick. I envy the ease with which he handles himself. This is his community. Ma, María and I will always be the strangers who took their park away. Even if they don't know me personally, I'm sure they know I'm one of the invaders from the other side of the soccer field.

"What did you mean when you said you and your friends would team up with a player?"

"Oh, there's speculation that something is going on in the Forgotten Lands. All the content in the zone is way above level 100. If it's a raid boss, or a siege or something like that, the heroes are going to need people to help them. We could help you, if you want," says Hazard.

"But there's nothing in the Forgotten Lands except ruins. Moranora Castle is just a husk of what it used to be according to the lore," I say.

A long time ago, when Amoria was still new, I had spent a few weeks exploring the Forgotten lands. It was a desolate, enormous expanse of nothingness. There were no monsters, quests, raid bosses, nothing gather or kill. Every once in a while, I'd run into the crumbling ruins of towns or estates. But they were so weathered down that I never thought it'd be used for any relevant content in the game.

"There wasn't anything there. This new update supposedly revived the spirits who lived there. Honestly, don't you read the forums?"

"No," I say.

Santino sighs, as if frustrated with me. He opens his mouth several times, but seems to think otherwise before speaking.

"So what's it like to be a hero?" he blurts out all of a sudden. "Have you tried out your skills? What class do you play?"

"Not yet. I'm still learning how to use the Neural X."

"Oh shit. Right. You didn't even know how to access the menu. Well, I'm sorry to say, it seems you're fucked. You know nothing about the tournament. You've pissed off the Starfordian's golden girl, and you can't even defend yourself. You're off to an awesome start. "

"Thank you for the encouragement," I say, and I start to walk faster.

"I mean, how are you supposed to beat anyone if you can't even use your skills?"

"I'm trying to get home to learn them. So, goodbye," I say, turning towards a more ample corridor. It's a small detour, but it leads away from the field, so I won't have him on my back.

But he turns too and continues to follow me.

"If you want help, you know my name in the game!" he calls out, and when I turn to answer him, he's gone.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

One or two friends won't be enough if what he says is true. I'm going to need a goddamned army.

When I reach the house, I plug in the Neural X and leave it charging while I take a shower.

Ma greets me when I get out.

"I'm going to Pamela's baby shower. Do you want to come?" she says, holding up a light blue bag. "I got her some nappies and a bib."

"I'll pass," I say, heading to my bedroom. "I have to work."

"Can't you leave it for a few hours?"

"Why do you want me to go? I have absolutely nothing to talk about with those people," I say, turning to face her.

For someone who can be so melodramatic, Ma is good at hiding her feelings. María is the only one who can make her blow up and outright say what she's thinking. Maybe it's because I can read her face so easily, whereas María won't understand that you're sad or hurt until you cry or tell her. But with me, Ma never speaks her mind.

Ma's lips are curved into a forced smile, and her head is bent as if looking at me tenderly. I know that look. It's what she does when she's disappointed, but she can't bring herself to tell me so.

"Those people are our relatives, mija, and it's been so long since you've seen them. I don't want them to think that we're not doing OK. I mean, they know about our situation. But I don't want to make them feel sorry for us," she says, pulling out a chair.

"They'll understand if you tell them I'm working," I say.

"But I can't even explain what it is you do," she says, holding out her hand. "Please, Ara. I just want to enjoy a good evening with my daughter. Since the other one doesn't seem to have any plans of coming home anytime soon."

If I didn't know her as I do, I might have fallen for her sugarcoated plea. I don't doubt that she loves me, or that she might want to spend time with me occasionally. But her decision to go to the baby shower is motivated by the only force that can move Ma to do anything: the all-mighty "what would people say?"

But I don't give a shit about what they will say, think, or believe about me, so I walk up to Ma and give her a kiss on the forehead.

"Sorry Ma, I have to get back to work," I say, and I go to my room and close the door.