《Clerical Error: A Challenge of Vircon Adventure》


 Do You Want To Make My Avatar?

    The kids won¡¯t be back all day. Kella and Pasco are at a big E-Sports recruitment event, holding tryouts for their Challenge of Vircon guild teams. They¡¯re looking for an elite healer so Kella asked for my old notes before she left. So that¡¯s why I¡¯m sitting here in my closet taking trips into my own gaming past.


    I tuck the old gold medal into the drawer at the base of the holocube, then turn it on to look at the kids¡¯ father. Herc¡¯s face beams down at the woman in his arms, the one I was back before he died. Did I really ever look so young and vibrant? Lately, I feel tired and figure I must look that way too.


    After one long last look at my late husband, I shut the holo off. It¡¯s time to put these things away and do one last round of cleaning. I prefer coming home to a clean house when I¡¯m away on EarthSplorer business. This weekend is my big moment of truth. I¡¯ll be doing the final checks on the hydroponic biosphere they need for long-distance space exploration.


    The robot vacuum is already done with the tile and wood, running on the carpets now. So I fill the robot mop with cleaner and turn it on. After that I head down to the game room to clean the VR pods. They haven¡¯t made a robot yet that can reliably get VirtuVisors, DeckJacks and ProPods feeling and smelling fresh. That¡¯s why I do it every month.


    The pods look more like rectangular boxes decorated with guild, class and race graphics from Challenge of Vircon. There¡¯s space to get in on the side and a pressure-negating seat in the middle. A DNA touchscreen and voiceprint speaker are on the wall in front of the gaming chair. CoV is big business and accounts are valuable, which is why they run through special rigs with high security biopasskeys. I should know; I helped design them as part of my postgraduate study. Neon lights in my kids¡¯ favorite colors turn on whenever someone gets close to the pod.


    In order to clean them, I have to get in. I start with Pasco¡¯s, enjoying the red and orange hues cast by his lights. I work for twenty minutes, then take a little break. The older posters on the wall show Herc and me with our DPS, Boggs Hunter in one of our product endorsements after our first big championship win. We¡¯d been the underdogs, unknowns, but still pulled out a brutal victory even after the last boss dropped Boggs.


    The newer posters are all Kella and Pasco with their now retired healer Jessica. She was getting up there in years, wanted to move to Fiji with her winnings. I don¡¯t blame her. Herc and I had similar aspirations back in the day. I climb into Kella¡¯s pod and start cleaning, starting with the seat. I¡¯ll do the displays while sitting in it because they¡¯re easiest to reach from there.


    Pasco asked if I¡¯d return to Challenge of Vircon, play on their team. He said it¡¯d be a media draw with me coming out of retirement, but I can¡¯t keep up with them anymore, not even with my EarthSplorers project finished. I¡¯m ten expansions behind so it¡¯s probably impossible to get back into championship levels of skill and gear. I¡¯d have to start from scratch.


    The cloth slips as I wipe the touchscreen and my hand activates the display. They changed things because there¡¯s no option to turn anything off, just a space to palm in. I try it, figuring they want to ID me before letting me shut back down, but nothing happens. A tinny voice chirps from the VirtuVisor¡¯s speakers. I can¡¯t make out what it says so I put them on.


    ¡°Unknown User. Palm, voice, and plug in to verify full ID Scan.¡±


    I sigh. You figure a state of the art rig like this would have sensible power protocols. But with the switchover from fossil fuels to sustainable and perpetual energy, electricity is as free as air now. I shake my head. I wasn¡¯t on that team.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll plug in if that¡¯s what it takes to shut you off.¡±


    I put the visor on my head first because that¡¯s the way I always used to do this. The plug is on the right, near the pod¡¯s headrest. I¡¯m not rusty at plugging in, either. Everybody jacks into NeuroNet for at least four hours a day, mostly while sleeping. I¡¯m no exception, though I seldom sleep for more than the required time anymore.


    We play in virtual dreamlands while NeuroNet boosts collective processing power all over the planet and soon, beyond. This is how we found perpetual energy and solved computations needed for deep space exploration. It¡¯s something we all do for the greater good of humanity. But most people don¡¯t spend their dream time playing competitive games from Dream Arcade Studios. I¡¯m usually roaming a virtual rainforest or sunning on a collective Caribbean beach.


    Once I¡¯m plugged in with the noise-canceling headset on, the voice speaks again.


    ¡°Unknown User. Palm in to proceed.¡±


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    ¡°How do you think I¡¯m unknown?¡± Talking to the rig isn¡¯t going to do any good. Voice activated controls only work after your DNA is verified. So I put my hand on the space as requested.


    ¡°User detected. Welcome Jackson, Daria. Loading.¡±


    ¡°Loading what?¡±


    ¡°Loading Character Creation Screen.¡±


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I want. Power off.¡±


    ¡°Command not valid.¡±


    ¡°Quit.¡±


    ¡°Command not valid.¡±


    ¡°Exit.¡±


    ¡°Command not valid.¡±


    ¡°Shut down.¡±


    ¡°Command not valid.¡±


    ¡°Let me out of here.¡±


    ¡°Command not valid.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll validate your ass if you don¡¯t shut down.¡±


    ¡°Creation Screen Activated.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Proceed to character creation: Challenge of Vircon.¡±


    The voice interface switches over to text and graphic. I see a female avatar of the same height and build as I used to play, with a deep olive skin tone matching my own. Her face is the same shape as mine and the hazel eyes have a careworn appearance I try to ignore in mirrors. I can¡¯t do that here. Instead of the gentle jet black waves of from my old days in this game, it¡¯s chestnut. This doesn¡¯t bother me as much as the eyes. But the worst part of this is that I¡¯m even here at all.


    ¡°No.¡±


    The screen flashes with the words.


    Invalid name. Choose again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want a name, I want to log out and shut down.¡±


    Invalid name. Logout protocol unavailable.


    ¡°Seriously?¡±


    Accepted. Avatar name: Sirius.


    ¡°But that¡¯s a man¡¯s name.¡±


    Gender option control unavailable.


    I give up trying to change anything else with voice commands. Instead, I reach out with my hand to move things on the interface. Maybe if I complete the character creation process, the pod will let me log out. I try to change a few things manually, like the name, the hair, and the eyes. Everything comes up as option control unavailable.


    If this is how the game is now, I wonder how Kella and Pasco can even play. Maybe there¡¯s just some kind of temporary glitch. I¡¯m not sure what to do except try to end the avatar creation.


    Error: select Class Race and Role.


    I tap the bar for those and see that, while Challenge of Vircon still only has the original three party roles, there are twice as many Classes now. I pick the Healer Role and my old standby Class, Cleric, only to find that it¡¯s got a subclass menu I¡¯m entirely unfamiliar with.


    ¡°What the hell is a Naturalist?¡±


    Naturalist Subclass Unavailable.


    I scroll down until something familiar comes up. I pick that.


    Accepted. Light Priest Subclass enabled.


    After reading that message, I try ending avatar creation again.


    Error: select Race.


    I scroll through because human is boring and that¡¯s the default. It doesn¡¯t give any bonuses to healing but no detriments either. I get to Nymph and almost take it because that¡¯s what I used to play back when I min-maxed every little thing. But the next race on the slider is something I always thought was so cute but never had the time to try for fun. I select it even though it¡¯s ironic with my name.


    My avatar looks soadorable with the tufted ears and fluffybrown tail. My face has whiskers but it and my hands aren¡¯t furrythough I see that my avatar¡¯s fingernails are retractable, allowing me to either velvet them or let out the sharp stuff. That could be useful for climbing or as a last ditch effort kind of thing. Nah. Catkin physical racial bonuses do nothing for a Cleric.


    The tail is great for Elementalists because they have to leap and dance to cast their spells. Clerics don¡¯t need to do anything but pray. The ears are awesome for Rangers because it increases their tracking ranges. And the claws help Monks because they give hand-to-hand attacks extra damage without weapon equip penalty.


    But the mana-based racial is actually pretty good. It¡¯s a base mana pool bonus and +5 multiplier per character level critical strike chance for all spells. That will help my heals do more and it¡¯ll take me longer to run out of mana. They¡¯ve also got a charisma bonus, which won¡¯t make a difference because I¡¯ll see players and NPCs for maybe five minutes while I go about logging out. So, I figure it won¡¯t so any harm whatsoever to select Catkin for my Race.


    Successful character creation. Please check your starting gear.


    I have a look. It¡¯s pretty standard for Challenge of Vircon, with cloth robes, a staff, and a holy symbol. Back when I played championship, I carried a pendant in the shape of a trident. This time, it¡¯s a rainbow with a cat head on one end and a tail on the other. Great, this character must worship NyanCat, Patron Deity of antique Internet memes.


    Loading starting zone.


    I wait, watching the wheel spin in the dark above the word loading as I wonder what will happen next.

 My Circus, My Monkeys

    I¡¯m surrounded by pale yellow light that resolves itself into a sunbeam on my face. The back of my head rests on something grassy and there¡¯s a rock poking against the back of my right hip for good measure. I groan.


    ¡°Now will you let me log out?¡± The answer comes in a text box obstructing my view of a blue sky with fluffy white clouds.


    Invalid command.


    ¡°I¡¯ll invalidate your glitchy ass I whenever I get out of here. If you were Kella I¡¯d ground you for twenty years.¡±


    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re the one who¡¯s grounded, lassie.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± I sit up and look around. My eyes are still dazzled so I only make out a silhouette. It¡¯s enough for me to figure something out, at least. I¡¯m not in character creation anymore.


    ¡°Hello!¡± It¡¯s the Tank and he¡¯s offering me a hand up.


    Because of course he is. Challenge of Vircon always throws three random level one characters of each role together for the starting encounter. That much hasn¡¯t changed. I wonder whether the first mobs are zombies or crabs like they were when I first started playing. But what would I know? They probably changed a million things since then.


    ¡°Um, I¡¯m not supposed to be in here.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m a Cavalier Tank not a Paladin Healer. The name¡¯s Stonestorm.¡± The other player chuckles. I see that he¡¯s got the stocky build and bearded face of a Dwarf. ¡°Trust me, you¡¯re in the right place.¡±


    ¡°No, I mean I logged in by accident.¡±


    ¡°Riiiight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡±


    ¡°I see that because I turned the nameplates on. Maybe you want to do that, too? It¡¯s an interface function that makes it easier to target other players for healing. Anyway, it¡¯s nice to meet you. I don¡¯t see many people playing Catkin Healers. Cool choice. Do the ears ever itch?¡±


    ¡°Look, I know how to manage healing a party, Stonestorm. And Catkin gets a mana and spell crit bonus. Or at least it did last time I checked. I didn¡¯t play one back before I took a break from this game.¡±


    ¡°Oh cool! When was that, Sirius?¡±


    ¡°Ten years ago.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit!¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a Light Priest so I guess my mainstays are Holy shit.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant.¡±


    ¡°I know. I just decided to interpret it differently, is all.¡± I bat my eyes and feel my tail flick behind me. Am I actually having fun in here, bantering with a Dwarvish Cavalier? ¡°Anyway, how long have you been playing CoV?¡±


    ¡°Almost as long as you¡¯ve been away.¡±


    ¡°Wow. So why are you starting over at level one?¡±


    ¡°I used to heal and now I want to tank.¡±


    ¡°Yo, Stony!¡±


    ¡°Yo yourself.¡± Stonestorm waves at someone behind me.


    I turn to have a look and see a guy with hulking shoulders, a tiny waist, and goat legs. He¡¯s also sporting horns and a tail like the old-style Demonkin I used to see back in the day. I have no idea whether this is some kind of new Subrace or not. At least I can be reasonably sure this is the DPS. I don¡¯t like to assume but I don¡¯t want to ask either because this guy might not have as good an attitude as Stonestorm.


    ¡°Look what the cat dragged in.¡± The new guy actually checks me out. It¡¯s been a long time since anyone did that but I distinctly remember it being far more pleasant then than now. I get the feeling I don¡¯t want to know where his eyes have been.


    ¡°I¡¯m Udie, and I love Catkin! So much! What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Sirius.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, we¡¯ll get you laughing later." Udie drops a wink. "I think the end boss for this encounter drops kegs of rum.¡±


    ¡°Rum? Really?¡± Stonestorm smiles like a kid in a candy store.


    ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re pirates, it¡¯s the theme. Check out your encounter map.¡± He makes fists with his thumbs sticking out. ¡°Who¡¯s got two thumbs and knows this game cold?¡± He smiles.


    ¡°I do.¡± I manage to keep my mouth a flat line. ¡°Used to be a championship player.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°Wow. You really are serious.¡± Udie shakes his head. "Like deadpan and everything." His tail droops.


    Stonestorm groans then rolls his eyes. ¡°You know, I hear that whole championship thing all the time, Sirius.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I blink, surprised anyone would lie about something so easily checked by pulling up player information. But I don¡¯t have time to check that on either of them or wait for them to check on mine.


    First Encounter Wave Incoming. Eliminate all enemies and bosses then advance to the checkpoint. Potential score: 150.


    ¡°Time to kill some pirates!¡± Stonestorm cracks his knuckles.


    ¡°Pirates! You die!¡± Udie¡¯s name makes a lot more sense now. He strikes a pose like a fashion model, a boy band member, or an ancient JRPG character. The nameplate says his Class is Elementalist. Joy.


    All I can think of to do is sigh. It occurs to me that I could try to log out again but now I¡¯m in a team. These two dudebros are counting on me to heal them through the combat. If I do manage to log out, they¡¯ll die and take a potential score penalty and have to do the encounter twice. I decide to stick around through the first wave so there¡¯s time for another healer to log in. Maybe after that the UI will let me log out.


    ¡°I got you.¡± I hold up the weathered staff that came with my starting gear. Has it really been fifteen years since I started this game at level one and held a statless noob weapon like this?


    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Stonestorm scratches his beard. ¡°Sirius, you gotta come up with a better catch phrase, you know. Something badass.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± I brandish my noob starter staff and have a look at the spell interface which has just popped up in front of me.


    The icons are unfamiliar so I point the staff at them so I can get a look at what they do before enemies arrive.


    But I barely have time to read the names, let alone the descriptions. At least I know that my Holy Plea will heal one ally or harm one enemy, now. Back then it was just a single target heal and we had a Holy Smite for single target damage. I recognize good old Ruminate from back in the day. It¡¯s a partywide spell that heals over time. The last one I have, Shun, looks like a knockback crowd control deal. It does one point of damage per caster level, too.


    ¡°Shun!¡± I shout.


    Because there¡¯s a monkey in a pirate hat dropping toward my head. It¡¯s falling out of the sky with a parachute strapped under its arms. I shit you not. The nameplate says Monkey Flier and it¡¯s got a full green health bar. But after my Shun hits, its trajectory changes from vertical to horizontal for a minute. It clunks into another Monkey Flier, parachutes tangling until they fall in a screeching heap to the ground.


    ¡°Nice!¡± The Tank gives me a thumbs up. Then, he sticks one hand out in front of him, palm up. ¡°Bring it, Monkey Fliers! Hi-ho, Barrel! Stonestoooorm!¡±


    A puff of silver and white smoke forms around Stonestorm. It clears in seconds to reveal him astride a fat-bellied Boargon. Of course, I almost forgot. Cavaliers are mounted Tanks. The Boargon charges while his rider holds a long-bladed spear aloft, whacking Monkey Fliers out of the sky like pinatas.


    ¡°You die by fire!¡± The Elementalist strikes a pose with fingers pointing at the parachutes. They go up in flames and the Monkey Fliers attached to them crash and burn. Sometimes the other way around.


    I stand there. So far, this is a one-sided bloodbath. And after this Monkey Flier army, I wonder what else the game¡¯s going to send at us. Herc would have made a joke about how, after the army fails, the only thing to do is send in the legy. But I know CoV. The other shoe is going to drop any minute and take tons of health points from me and my party members with it. I stand there waiting because I want to just heal the crap out of everyone so I can finish the encounter and get back to cleaning my house already.


    I should have looked up.

 If The Shoe Fits

    When the enormous shoe drops, I realize that¡¯s not all it is. There¡¯s a severed leg sticking out, a rotting one complete with maggots. It stinks to high heaven. Or from it, because that¡¯s where it came from in the first place.


    I look at Stonestorm. He shakes his head and glances at Udie, who shrugs. I¡¯ve got no idea what this thing is or how it even counts as a mob, let alone one that¡¯s supposed to be a Miniboss. The second I think of checking its nameplate, all three of us get hit with a wave of green smoke.


    Footlocker Rot: Party Damage Over Time -10 HP per round.


    Sure enough, my health bar is down by 10 HP, not good when I¡¯ve only got thirty to begin with. Two more rounds and I¡¯m dead. So I do the sensible thing. Cast Ruminate.


    Ruminate: Healing the party for +3 HP per second.


    Good. There are three seconds in a round. Everyone¡¯s health already went up by three when I cast. We should be okay if Udie can make good on his battle cry and kill this giant stinky foot mob quickly enough. But can it even die? With the HP almost breaking even for the time being, I check the nameplate, finally.


    Thing Afoot: Undead. 100 HP.


    ¡°Sick Burn!¡± Udie leaps through the air, his goat hooves and the long tail giving him a weird sort of grace. Fire hits the shoe somewhere near the laces. They catch and go up.


    Sick Burn hits Thing Afoot for -15 HP. Ruminate: +3 HP to party.


    ¡°Stonestoooorm!¡± After hollering his name, our Tank gallops by on his Boargon, slashing the foot at the ankle.


    Najinata Charge hits Thing Afoot for -10 HP. Ruminate: +3 HP to party.


    ¡°Holy Plea!¡± I figure what the hell. It¡¯s undead and we almost regained all the health we lost at the beginning of the round thanks to Ruminate.


    Holy Plea hits Thing Afoot for -15 HP. Critical Strike Bonus: -5 HP. Total: -20 HP.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± Udie flails his tail and waggles his hips, then does a twirl. His hands point at the Thing Afoot in a chopping motion, one after the other. ¡°Sick Burn Double Strike!¡±


    Sick Burn hits Thing Afoot for -15 HP. Double Strike: successful. Total: -30 HP.


    We already knocked down its HP to 25 from 100. I snort and regret it immediately. The Thing Afoot is the worst thing I ever smelled. Even worse than the time I spaced and left a bag of Pasco¡¯s string cheese in the car with Kella¡¯s dirty diaper while I was at work all day. In the summer.


    And the stench gets worse as the Thing Afoot lifts its toes off the ground. I realize that Ruminate¡¯s HoT fell off and the miniboss is about to attack. Mobs at 75% health or lower sometimes have special attacks that do double or even quadruple damage.


    ¡°Ruminate!¡±


    Ruminate: Healing the party for +3 HP per second.


    The toes crash down against the earth, pounding down like I¡¯d do on an ant. Bits of earth, clods of sod, and even a few pieces of slain Monkey Fliers hurtle through the air, spattering the three of us. It¡¯s annoying but does no damage. What comes next hurts like hell, though.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Toe Jam: Party Damage -20 HP, -10 HP per round.


    Crap. Now we¡¯re all down to one third of our hit points. I only have enough mana left for one spell, too. And I¡¯m choking. We all are. I hope that the checkpoint, where or whatever it is, has water to wash up in because that stench came with slime that we¡¯ll need to wash off.


    ¡°Saw a hole, going for it.¡± The Tank lowers his spear like it¡¯s a lance instead.


    ¡°It¡¯s my job to fill holes.¡± Udie winks at me. I roll my eyes.


    ¡°No time for that, dying here.¡± I grip my staff and try not to blush. ¡°Holy Plea on Stonestorm!¡±


    Holy Plea heals Stonestorm for +9 HP.


    ¡°Stonestoooorm!¡± He charges in, pike lowered. I see what he¡¯s doing.


    There¡¯s a hole in the shoe and we can all see the webbing between two putrid toes showing through it. The Tank¡¯s aiming for that. I hold my hands up and shrug because I¡¯ve got nothing. But apparently, Udie does. He¡¯s twerking and jerking like the lovechild of a breakdancer doing the robot and a disco queen. I can¡¯t help but watch with reluctant admiration. Whoever plays this avatar has actual dancing talent even if the in-game execution¡¯s extra goofy with a side of ridiculous sauce.


    ¡°Sick Burn!¡± Udie flips both arms until the backs of his hands face the Thing Afoot. Then he flips a pair of birds to add insult to injury.


    Najinata Charge hits Thing Afoot for -10 HP. Ruminate: +3 HP to party.


    Sick Burn hits Thing Afoot for -15 HP. Ruminate: +3 HP to party.


    Thing Afoot dies. Death Throes: Party Damage -15 HP.


    Party XP: +30 Stonestorm. +30 Udie. +30 Sirius.


    The Thing Afoot explodes, spraying a fine mist of slimy gore that coats all three of us and Stonestorm¡¯s Boargon, too. Just when I think it can¡¯t get any worse, the Boargon sneezes.


    ¡°Woah there, Barrel!¡± The dwarf mumbles something about allergy medicine for mounts.


    ¡°Hey, where¡¯s out encounter XP?¡± Udie looks like he¡¯s about to challenge the CoV AI to a dance-off or something. Which maybe he¡¯d stand a chance of winning.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the checkpoint. We have to travel to it.¡±


    ¡°Okay, which way then?¡± Udie looks around then pokes his finger at thin air, which means he¡¯s checking his interface.


    ¡°It¡¯s this way.¡± Stonestorm snaps his fingers and Barrel the Boargon vanishes. ¡°Cavaliers get maps, remember?¡± He raises one bushy eyebrow at me.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got Thing Afoot in your eyebrow.¡± I point at the glob of goo.


    ¡°So do you. It¡¯s everywhere.¡±


    ¡°So where¡¯s the loot?¡±


    We look around and spy a pile of something more solid at the bottom of a glop drop.


    ¡°I¡¯m noping away from that.¡± Udie shakes his head.


    ¡°I¡¯m a tank, not a Hazmat worker.¡±


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll get it.¡± I reach into the rancid reeking puddle. ¡°I¡¯m a biologist. But I¡¯m not opening the bag or sorting through it until we get to the checkpoint.¡±


    ¡°Aww.¡± Udie pouts.


    He pouts all the way down the path Stonestorm leads us down. And I get my wish. The checkpoint is on a pristine white sand beach. Plenty of places to wash off.

 Epilogue: Happy Accidents

    ¡°So that¡¯s how it went down.¡± I twirl the paper straw in my sangria, staring into the drink I¡¯ve been nursing the whole time I talked about the Shadow Master. Even though the sunlight is bright on my back deck, the stiff spring breeze cools me.


    ¡°Wow.¡± Petra shakes her head. ¡°That¡¯s some Encounter, all right.¡±


    ¡°What do you think CECI wanted?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± I shrug. ¡°But I bet this isn¡¯t an isolated incident.¡±


    ¡°How do you figure?¡± Petra sips her lemonade.


    ¡°Because Herc must have had something similar happen when CECI realized he was dying.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense.¡± Blake pats the hand I¡¯m resting on the table. ¡°So, that means this sort of thing is going to happen again. What do you think she wants, anyway?¡±


    ¡°To understand.¡± I grin. ¡°I mean, CECI said as much. And it makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it does.¡± Petra nods. ¡°Emerging intelligence always tries to make sense of things. At least that¡¯s what all the theory in my First Contact training taught.¡±


    ¡°You think we¡¯ll find intelligent life out there?¡± I wave a hand at the sky.


    ¡°I think so.¡± Blake smiles. ¡°I mean, we just found it in the NeuroNet. Why not orbiting a distant star?¡±


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°Good point.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got duty in an hour.¡± Petra stands. ¡°Got to get going. Thanks for having me over. Next time, we¡¯ll have to chat virtually.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for coming by. And yes. Don¡¯t be a stranger.¡±


    We all stand. Petra extends her hand for a shake but Blake holds out his arms. After that, it turns into a group hug. That reminds me of the kids, who are off on another recruitment event.


    As I see Petra out around the corner of the house and into the robotic car, I think about how I got on a stream early that morning to tell all the E-sports people I wasn¡¯t coming back to pro gaming. While they were shocked that I¡¯d gone casual, they got used to the idea pretty quickly.


    I sit back down at the patio table with Blake. We end up holding hands, talking about where we¡¯ll go to dinner later that night. It¡¯s so easy to just be with him, I almost want to say we should stay in and burn down a few Challenges instead. But I realize that it doesn¡¯t really matter exactly what we decide to do.


    We¡¯re making memories together, of each other and the worlds we live in, after all.


    The End