The campus smelled faintly of coffee and wet pavement Alex thought as he walked towards the cafeteria, hood up, backpack bouncing against his shoulders, trying to remember how to be a normal college student.

  The sky was a flat gray, indifferent to his problems. Somewhere, a bike bell dinged; laughter cut through the air and was swallowed again by the dull, wet morning.

  Flashing his student ID at the door, he stepped inside the cafeteria and turned towards the counters and the short line of students picking out their breakfasts. Warmth and the smell of grease hit him as he passed the checkout. Steam escaped around tray lids. The clack of tongs. The metal scrape of spatulas on the flat-top grill. Voices layered over voices floating around him – someone arguing cheerfully about a midterm, someone else swearing softly at a dead phone.

  Why was this more surreal than standing in a medieval village and being able to actually see mana in the air?

  Someone tried to squeeze around him, jostling his arm. He apologized for holding up the line and piled a plate up with bacon and scrambled eggs, grabbed some fruit and headed to the table where he knew his friends would be.

  They were all there. Alex sighed. Ryan must have sent everyone a text. Shifted his grip on his tray, his orange juice glasses clinking together, he navigated through the rows of tables and benches to reach them.

  “Holy! Didn’t they feed you this weekend?” Kira asked, looking at the mound of food on his plate, her hair pinned up in a messy bun, little metal swords stabbed through it like pins.

  “I exercise now,” was all Alex said as he set down his tray and threw his backpack on the floor under the bench.

  “With steroids?” Kira asked. “You look way less skinny than you did last week.” She squinted at him as if trying to see ‘the trick’.

  “I don’t think he bulked up in just one weekend,” Jake said, but he was looking at Alex like he didn’t believe what he was saying. He tore off a piece of his bagel and cream cheese and tossed it in his mouth.

  Ryan snorted. “So? How was it? Where did they take you? Did you meet anyone famous yet?”

  Alex laughed. “Um, it was good. They took us up north to some secret location and yeah, I met Marcus and the Iron Fangs. Well, Marcus and Elira, I waved to the rest of the Iron Fangs.” He did his best to keep it casual. Light, a little self-deprecating, like he was in on the absurdity and not choking on the truth he couldn’t share.

  “A-MAZE-ING!” Kira cried out. People turned to see what the noise was about but quickly went back to their own conversations. She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Do the armor and weapons look that good in person? They seem so real on the show.”

  “Better,” Alex said. “And getting hit by them leaves bruises.”

  “Wait, back up. Secret base?” Jun asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, it was pretty remote. They don’t want leaks I guess.” He avoided eye contact, which wasn’t really uncommon for him anyway, and tried to set general words like a fence line: reasonable, unsurprising, not worth climbing over to see what was on the other side.

  Ryan’s eyes lit up. “So there is a set! What’s it like? There are all sorts of leaked pics online, but they’re all of the village and you can’t really see anything other than what you see on the show.”

  Alex gave a careful shrug. “They built the village. It’s all real.” More real than you’d believe he thought. He felt the ANIP prick at the inside of his thoughts like static, a mild warning hum when he leaned too close to the fence.

  “AAANND… you’re a wizard?” Kira said, fingers wiggling as if she were casting glitter.

  “I am,” Alex said, tightening his grip on the coffee cup Ryan had pressed into his hand. “Mage really. Well, Battle Mage officially. But everyone has to do physical training. Company policy.”

  “Physical training? Dude, you’re supposed to be waving a staff, not flipping tires.”

  “Yeah, tell them that. They want authenticity in everything, so we train. Really, that’s all I did all weekend. Just train. Swords, staffs, hand to hand and more cardio than I’ve done in my entire life.” Alex didn’t have to fake the disgust in his voice when he mentioned the cardio. The memory of sand underfoot, lungs burning, Vance’s voice chasing them through the obstacle course like a hawk, landed so vividly he almost coughed.

  “So like, basically boot camp?” Jake asked.

  “Exactly like boot camp,” Alex said. So far this conversation wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be. As long as nobody dug too deep he could just keep skating across the surface of his weekend.

  “Sounds like fun…” Jun said dubiously.

  He tried again. “It was basically orientation weekend. Get us in shape and make sure we can handle a little pressure before throwing the cameras at us I guess.”

  “Man, that’s intense for a TV gig,” Ryan said. “I figured it’d just be green rooms and fake fights. You actually doing stunts?”

  “Of course, it’ll all be me when the cameras roll,” Alex said carefully. “They’re pretty big on safety though. It seems like they have a lot in place to take care of us.” He took a sip of coffee, let the bitterness anchor him.

  “So,” Kira asked, changing the topic. “How’s it feel working for the biggest show on the planet?”

  Alex’s mind flooded with images – the portal chamber, Reach’s demanding tone, the weight of a sword in his hand, the hum of the world's mana around him all the time. The fresh country air in the village at night. But how did he actually feel about everything?

  “I don’t know. I guess it hasn’t really sunk in yet you know?” he answered honestly.

  “Right, but no one’s asking the important question here,” Jake said, sliding his cafeteria tray away and leaning towards Alex from across the table.

  Alex froze. He was dreading the first question that he couldn’t answer.

  “How much they paying you?” he asked, smiling broadly. “Like, are the drinks on you this week?”

  “Oh come on Jakey, you’re such a mooch,” Kira said, giving him a playful push that almost knocked his tray on the floor.

  “The man has a point though,” Jun said, deadpan. “Purely academically speaking of course Alex, but how much are they paying you?”

  “I mean, I start soon too, so it’s a totally valid question, what will I be making Alex?” Ryan said with a laugh.

  “I don’t know,” Alex said, which caused a round of booing. Alex held his hands up and leaned back in mock surrender. “Seriously. I mean, it’s based on a bunch of stuff, like ratings and screen time.” And dungeon looting. “What I can say is they deposited just over two grand in my bank account yesterday.”

  Jun almost spit out his coffee before swallowing and crying out “For one weekend? Holy shit. Where do I sign up?”

  Jake thumped the table and said, “drinks are definitely on you this weekend buddy!” Everyone laughed; even Alex smiled, the sound loosening a knot inside him for a moment.

  “So,” Kira asked after everyone died down. “When do you actually get on the show?”

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

  “I don’t know. Maybe in a couple of weeks? They always show the new teams competing to get through the training dungeon on the show right? I think this weekend is still more training and conditioning. They want to make sure we’re ready before sending us out.”

  “What do you mean sending you out?” Ryan asked.

  Alex paused, fork midway to his mouth. Shit. He needed to NOT lead them towards deeper questions. “Oh, I just mean, um, sending us out to film,” Alex managed and then shoved egg into his mouth to try and hide the fact that he had to work so hard for that answer.

  “So when do you go back?” Ryan asked.

  “Friday afternoon again, after classes.”

  “Well, don’t forget the little people when you’re famous,” Jun said, making Jake laugh.

  “Yeah, I’ll send postcards from the studio maybe. You know - Wish you were here, and all that.”

  Ryan grinned. “From wherever-the-hell they actually took you,” he said, fishing again.

  “Exactly.”

  Ryan just rolled his eyes and grabbed his and Alex’s coffee cups, walking away to get refills.

  His friends devolved into their regular morning conversations. Complaints about classes and project work and essays that needed to be finished. Kira talked about a new mod she’d built for a new D&D campaign she was running for a group of girls she knew that wanted to learn how to play. She described a puzzle with mirrors and trick light; Jun argued about whether a gelatinous cube could be “cute” if it wore a crown. Jake proposed a house rule that made everyone groan and then grudgingly admit it was pretty clever.

  Alex mostly just listened along while he finished up his breakfast. The rhythm of ordinary conversation should have been comforting and was – a little. Familiar beats, predictable swells. A song he knew by heart.

  But instead of feeling normal, it felt a little like watching a recording of his own life played at half-speed. This was the sort of thing that had been important to him just a week before. Hanging with his friends. Debating dumb rules for pretend magic. Planning the Thursday night Side Quest Heroes livestream. He loved the janky energy of it.

  Now he couldn’t stop thinking about how small it all felt next to everything on the other side of that portal. He felt disloyal for even thinking it, like he was cheating on his own life.

  Ryan returned and handed him a fresh coffee. “Cream, no sugar,” he said, out of habit, and sat down. “Okay, real talk. You’re okay right? Because you’re here, but you’re not really here.”

  Alex blinked, surprised at the comment, although he really shouldn’t be. Ryan’s gaze was steady as he waited for an answer. That was the thing about Ryan – under all the jokes and the boastful talk, he noticed stuff and cared about his friends.

  “I’m fine,” Alex said, and the word didn’t feel like a lie so much as a placeholder. “Just… tired.”

  “Tired,” Jun repeated, mock-suspicious. “From exercising.”

  “Yes, from exercising. You try it for a week and see how you feel,” Alex said flatly, and they all groaned in sympathy.

  Kira leaned her chin on her hand. “Is it weird?” she asked. “Like, do you walk around thinking, ‘I’m going to be on TV. I’m going to be famous,’ or does it just feel like you got a new job?”

  “It’s weird,” Alex admitted. “But also… not? I don’t know. The whole weekend just kind of blurred together. Early mornings, late nights, people telling you where to stand, where to go, what to do next. It’s more like camp than TV.” He forced himself to take a slow sip of coffee. “But, you know, it’s just the first weekend.”

  Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Man, I can’t wait to join you up there,” he said, waving his hand in a vaguely northerly direction. “This is going to be epic.”

  Alex looked at him for a long moment and then smiled. “You have no idea.”

  Kira tapped the table, thinking. “So, Side Quest Heroes – are you good for Thursday?” She grimaced. “You’re probably going to be frazzled all week, but the last time we ran a clip show the chat tried to unionize against us.”

  Alex’s stomach pinched. He’d been thinking about this since he woke up. With the way the ANIP was accelerating him, schoolwork had snapped into place like Lego. But the stream… he wasn’t sure he could sit in a chair for three hours pretending the word magic only meant dice and rules text.

  “Maybe we do a ‘best of fails’ reel?” Jake suggested. “We’ve got enough of those to fill a feature film.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jun said. “My character has never failed. He merely… succeeds sideways.”

  Everyone chuckled. Alex didn’t commit either way. “Let me check a couple things and I’ll text you this afternoon,” he said. “If I have to miss, I’ll help you pull clips.”

  Kira rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fine. We’ll survive for a week if we have to.”

  The conversation spiraled back into campus gossip and plans for Friday night – someone’s cousin was playing at a local dive bar, and there was a rumor about free pizza by the cannon for some lunch event. The whole time, Alex just listened.

  “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat lightly. “I gotta bounce. I’m supposed to meet a TA before my next class to go over an assignment, and if I show up late he’s going to turn it into a practice session for his TED Talk on punctuality.”

  “Coward,” Jake said amiably, dragging the word out.

  “Traitor,” Jun added, holding a notebook up like a shield.

  Kira poured the last of her coffee into a to-go cup. “Text me about Thursday,” she said. “And stretch. If you’re doing all this combat LARPing or whatever, you’re going to pull something. You’re not exactly Mr. Exercise King.”

  “Not LARPing,” Alex said automatically, a little sharper than he meant. He softened it with a shrug. “But yeah. I’ll stretch.”

  Jun stood and slung his bag over one shoulder. “I’m off. May your cardio be merciful.”

  Jake stood too, groaning dramatically. “If I sprint, I might make it to chem on time.”

  They walked out of the cafeteria together and headed down the stairs, exiting out onto the lakeside patio. From there, they peeled off in three different directions, their goodbyes overlapping as they went.

  “You really okay?” Ryan said as they headed through the Agora.

  Alex exhaled and shrugged. “Yeah. Mostly. It’s just… a lot, you know? Feels like my brain is split-screening everything all day long.”

  “Two lives,” Ryan said, nodding. “The one where we argue about whether an NPC should be allowed a pet goose, and the one where you sign NDAs the size of a mattress.”

  “Basically,” Alex said, but he thought: Or the one with fluorescent lights and the one where mana is real and I might be able to cast a fireball someday.

  Ryan nodded, hands in his jacket pockets. “Well, for what it’s worth, I can’t wait to join you up there, wherever that is. Just, you know, make sure you remember your friends here and don’t replace them with fame and a busy schedule.”

  Alex barked a laugh. “If I ever try to replace you with fame, please hit me with a chair.”

  “Oh don’t worry. You try replacing me and I’ll suplex you through a table,” Ryan said cheerfully. “I meant the rest of those saps.”

  They pushed open the doors across from the Outpost and stepped back outside before Ryan continued. “So. I’ve got History until 1:30 - meet up afterwards?”

  “I can’t,” he said, and Ryan’s eyebrows flicked up, just a hair. Alex hurried on. “I promised Jay I’d hit the gym with him after lunch. First real session… since the weekend.”

  Ryan let out a low whistle. “Man, you are really taking this seriously.”

  Alex shrugged, then owned it with a nod. “Yeah. I have to. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right. No half-assing.” No pretending. He thought.

  But which life was he pretending at now?

  ***

  I talk to my family all the time. Messages, calls, holidays when I can get them. We’re very close. Which makes my new life difficult sometimes.

  I never lied to my mother a single time in my entire life. Not until I took this job with Dungeon Inc. that is.

  Now there are huge parts of my life that I just can’t explain. Whole weeks I have to compress into white lies, making up things I’ve been doing in a life that I have mostly left behind.

  It’s not like I have a choice. Earth-3 can’t fit into normal conversation. The ANIP won’t allow it. And my mother would never understand even if I could anyway. Not the danger. Not the purpose. Not why I chose to stay.

  I have no choice. But I still hate it. I still feel like I'm doing something wrong.

  I went home for Thanksgiving this year (of course) and just sat, like I often do, at the kitchen table while my mother and aunts talked over each other in Italian, hands moving, voices overlapping the way they always do. I laughed at the right moments and eventually I even answered one of the questions without thinking.

  It wasn’t until my mother and aunts stopped talking and stared at me that I realized something was wrong.

  I hadn’t even noticed the ANIP translating. Not consciously. It had just… stepped in. Like its suppose to do. The thing is, I never learned more than a few phrases in Italian growing up. I’m not SUPPOSED to know it.

  I panicked and said I’d taken Italian as an elective in school. That I’d kept it quiet as a surprise. Everyone laughed. My mother looked so proud.

  I smiled back.

  Later, in my old room, I sat on the edge of the bed and hated myself.

  I hate lying to her. I hate how easy it was.

  Earth-3 takes more from you than blood or time. Sometimes it takes the truth.

  Personal Journal

  Iron Fangs

  Elira Renaldi; Ranger