Hey Nichole, it’s me. I…don’t know how to tell you this. But, uh, she’s gone. Nurse said she went peacefully. The hospital tried to call me but, heh, guess I fell asleep watching Jeopardy. Least she won’t know I fell asleep on the couch again. I filled out all the paperwork so, uh, ya know. You don’t gotta worry about anything. Final viewing is tomorrow at 3. Before they, uh. Before they cremate her. Anyway I love you kiddo. I’ll be home all morning if you wanna swing by. We can drive in together. Don’t stay up too late.

  I can’t do this.

  I roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. I can’t remember how many shots I’d had, but I am currently feeling every single one of them. It had to be somewhere between 6 and maybe 37, because my body is shaking like a vibrator as I turn on the faucet. I splash tepid water on my face, hoping that it’ll help sober me up. It doesn’t. I’m representing my guild at an event tonight. While WARP VR is able to take away some aches and pains of the body, it is strictly advised that no drugs or alcohol should be consumed before using the VR set. What the system advisory has never accounted for, however, was that I am too drunk to care.

  I brush away the foul taste of whiskey and the aftermath of hitting my uvula too many times. What a bummer. Some of those shots had been expensive. I rinse my mouth with mouthwash, reapply deodorant and wash off my makeup. The event tonight is supposed to be a “once in a lifetime event”. It was important, Jericho had said, and important things like this tend to make me sweat; I don’t want to get mascara in my eyes while I’m playing.

  There’s about fifteen minutes til kickoff. I wobble to the kitchen and pop a can of wet food for Goose. Before I even have a chance to pull the lid off, a slinky black cat with more teeth than brain cells begins to chitter and rub on my legs. His favorite magic trick.

  “Alright, Sir Gooz, Mommy’s gunna be gone furabbit so Ur in charge, got it?”

  The cat stares at me blankly, elevator music playing behind his eyes and one snaggly tooth poking out from his little lips.

  “Zat’s a guhd boy.”

  I quickly guzzle a glass of water and grab an iced coffee from the fridge. It’s going to be a long night. I want to grab my phone from the bedroom. But even tits over tea kettle, I know that’s a bad idea. Logical Nichole knows that current Nichole drank away her impulse control. Put that phone in her hands and she’ll be listening to voicemails and looking at hidden photos and losing herself on the waves of drunken memory. It’s so, so tempting to do so. But I’m already on the outs with my guild. One more fuck up and I’m gone. My guild leader’s sympathy for my grief has long expired. Which wouldn’t be a problem–if I wasn’t monetarily reliant on this goddamned game.

  I am a Grinder.

  Unfortunate wording, but apt.

  For those who aren’t chronically online, a Grinder is someone who makes money providing in-game resources for other gamers. A client wants a rare drop for the clout? Or they need 10k stone for a base upgrade? Maybe they want an event specific mount from a few years back? For all of these things and more, these people hired a grinder like me. I would kill the same boss hundreds of times, mine ore by the thousands–there is no job beneath me.

  It was that particular playstyle (obsessive) that caught the eye of Jericho, number 8 player globally and leader of the number 2 US guild, Arcanos. While I’m not an amazing fighter and I’m the definition of flakey, I am also very good at getting what the guild needs when it counts. But even that unique skill can’t keep me safe forever. Thus my appearance at some stupid PR event tonight.

  I pop a caffeine pill in my mouth and chase it with iced coffee. Folks–this is what peak human performance looks like. Take note.

  I roll like a fat seal down a hill into my WARP device.

  The UV sunshield begins to lower over my face. I feel the little motors whirring in my back. The feet and wrist cuffs deploy and click around my ankles and arms. It’s a safety feature for “active” users, whose motor functions might not be fully compatible with the rig’s deprivation sensors. It prevents WARP users from jumping out and hurting themselves or others. And not to brag, but this particular rig also came complete with: laser tech to stimulate your muscles and prevent atrophy, a fluid resistant design (for sweaty gamers like me) and, because why not, a cupholder.

  “Welcome to Lethe.”

  I load the invite code from Jericho’s dm into the lobby search. After a moment, a notification appears.

  [[07:52 remaining until lobby opens. Please wait for your host.]]

  Lethe is a vr mmorpg. There’s only one global server, which means that players all over the world play together regardless of time or geographical location. Lobbies are specific sects of the world that are roped off unless someone has an invite code. A fun fact–lobbies cost serious money. Like more than a new car money. Like an in-state degree paid in full kind of money. Billionaire petty cash kind of money.

  Lethe’s parent company, Acheron, was a hit from the jump when they produced their first game, “The Flood”. And like most companies, success meant they could charge us users exorbitant fees. And we paid them and said thank you, daddy. May I have another? Especially those of us that paid for a monthly platinum pass. Unless you have a bronze, silver, gold or platinum pass, such as the one I have, your free play time on any Acheron game is limited to two hours a day. After that time limit is up, users pay for more time or watch advertisements. Though even adverts are limited to so many per day.

  It was all a friggin long con.

  But it was a long con that was worth it. The graphics and sound are as real as the skin on your body. Not to sound like an ad, but the user interface is both friendly and intuitive. The bosses are unique and offer super balanced encounters that challenge the player but aren't impossible. There are skills that embrace human creativity, like [Fashion design], [Architecture] and [Cooking]. And even within those skills there’s room for near infinite customization.

  For instance, take the [Cooking] skill. It’ss ranked E for everyone because anyone can learn how to cook. When you advance it to level 10, however, you can pay a guild chef to proctor an exam for you. If you pass, your skill evolves into something else like [Knife Skills], which is a C-tier skill. It’s more advanced because it’s useful for combat too. Connected to the cooking skill tree are also skills like:

  [Gourmand] [B], which allows you to identify an item by licking it. Weird–but effective.

  [Poison Resistance] [B], which one can gain in a myriad of ways, but also with cooking.

  [Butcher] [A], which highlights weak points on a target based on where one would butcher it for consumption.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  And my personal favorite, [Hospitality] [C], which allows you to imbue buffs and spells into food and drinks you craft.

  The game even has a [Unicycle] [D] skill. I promise you. If there’s a hobby that’s ever existed, Lethe has a skill that mirrors it.

  [[00:32 remaining until lobby opens. Please wait for your host.]]

  I take a deep, sobering breath and sigh. It isn’t helpful. But at least this would all be over in a few hours. Then I could finally get some sleep. Or obsess.

  Probably obsess.

  ///———///

  When I load in, the screen shows my character. The WARP VR system is a “real scan” system, which means that it scans your full body and loads the data as the base for your character. Some things, like hair, makeup, and game race specific traits, like elf ears or vampire fangs, are customizable. But basic things like your eye color, height, age, skin tone and weight weren’t. While it isn’t my favorite, I understood why it was put in place. The game is technically T for Teen because the violence itself is pretty tame, and all of our characters look like sexless dolls when they’re naked. In all my years of gaming, I haven’t found a game that is this good at preventing creeps and catfish.

  Several decision prompts pop in front of my character. The first states:

  [[This lobby has disengaged some physical safety protocols that could lead to harm if the user suffers from preexisting conditions as outlined by WARP VR and Acheron Technologies. See here for more details. Would you like to continue?]]

  I accept the legal gobbledegook. Thankfully, despite the hell I’d been putting my body through these last few months, I’m relatively healthy. I don’t have a history of seizures, and I haven’t been on a date in…awhile, so sans immaculate conception or tragedy, my chances of being pregnant are incredibly low.

  [[All of your weapons, armor, skills, mounts, spells and inventories will be locked in this lobby. Your character in lobby will be temporarily reset to level: 1. See here for more details. Would you like to continue?]]

  I hit yes. I didn’t realize we’d be coming in as clean slates. Jericho had just told me a time, a date and a code; I’m coming in completely blind. Lethe only lets you have one character at all times. It’s been a long time since I’ve been lvl 1. I’m…getting kind of excited about this.

  [[This lobby is classified as Iron Fist. Death of characters in lobby is permanent. See here for more details. Would you like to continue?]]

  I hit yes again.

  Iron Fist is the hardest game mode, where a player only has one life. It also means we’d be working from a more limited inventory of 100 slots only, as Iron Fist doesn’t allow the use of the storage system. It also disables fast travel–though given the circumstances, that shouldn’t affect gameplay much.

  [[Welcome to Lobby: Kore]]

  I couldn’t clock where Kore was immediately–though I had my suspicions. But wherever it was was swanky as hell. It was a new island introduced in the last update. I’d been so busy (depressed) that I hadn’t made it a priority to check it out despite having a pre-game invite to do so. A single elegant staircase with ornate filigree stretched from one floor to another, bisecting in the middle so there were two entrances on the top and one entrance on the bottom. Above that was a single person balcony only accessible from somewhere in the building. A crystalline chandelier scattered the light through tinkling crystal dew drops. It made everything look like we were underwater.

  The carpet, as red as blood, stretched from the foot of the stairs to the main entrance. The rest of the floor was cold polished white marble with veins of silver and bronze that caught the light, pumping color into the blank floor. True elegance. Everything’s bronze, silver, gold, or red. So are the other participants’ clothes…All of us, including myself, have a simple monocolor tunic, pants and shoes set. Mine are red. I feel like a little red cap fairy. A pity my pasty ass looks terrible in red. It’s a nice color.

  “Enjoy the festivities, player Cucuphas.”

  Oh my god. There must be hundreds of people milling around in outfits like mine. I take back every nice thing I’ve said so far. This might actually be hell. Most of them are grouping up and chatting with each other. Cream puffs and champagne are being served by naiads and other oceanic occupants. Just to the side of the stairs is an octopus bartending. I don’t see anyone I know firsthand, but there are a few player names that I recognize. Like Phoebus, Grizzbones and BnrKillr42069 . All of the people I recognized are infamous for bad reasons.

  For instance, Phoebus is a Sun Healer, a healer who, as you may have guessed, uses heat and the power of the Suns in game to perform his magic. Crime: not showing up to the Deity boss battle in the Llora Desert several months ago. His disappearance, as both the raid leader and principle healer, caused them to all die and drop their inventory and gear–including several deity quest items. Then, once everyone had died, he had the audacity to return to the scene of the crime to gather up the equipment and quest items of his fallen comrades and deliver them to his new guild.

  It’s important to note that only one copy of a Deity quest item exists at any point in time. They’re some of the most rare items in the game. So not only did he steal their gear and consumables, but he also stole their only chance at challenging the Deity of the Llora Desert. Grizzbones and BnrKllr42069 had done something similarly crappy. All treasonous acts that resulted in them being excommunicated from their guilds and top on the hitlist for a lot of the top 10. Jericho included.

  I continue making my way around the floor. I go down some of the halls just for science. Nothing roped off! Just…killing time.

  After several minutes of wandering I made my way to the corner of the second floor bannister. I look out at the crowd below, hoping to find at least one person I know before the lobby officially starts. While I don’t enjoy crowds, I also don’t want to go this alone. I absentmindedly fleece the decorated table against the window next to me. There wasn’t much, but I got some parchment, ink pens, a wax seal, a letter opener and a broken three pronged candelabra. The middle stem was chipped at the neck, but the rest of it was pretty sound. I stash it all in my inventory. Old habits died hard.

  “Can I stand next to you?” A voice asked, “I get nervous in big crowds.”

  I was so lost in thought that I nearly jumped clear out of my skin.

  The speaker is a squat man. Mid 50’s. Has a glint of fatigue in his eyes that 8 hours can’t fix. His most noticeable physical feature is the wispy sidepart on his very balding head that he would rather die than shave. But his name is one that I am genuinely happy to see.

  “Oh my god, Herald! It’s you!” I give him a side hug that he softly returns. Herald is a grinder like me, though he’s in a different guild. His specialty is npc-given artifacts. I don’t know if there’s an npc that he can’t rizz up. There are certain incredibly rare items, like the Deity quest items, that can only be given to players by an NPC. Unfortunately some peoples’ reputations precede them, even among the non-living, and make it impossible for that player to get whatever they’re after.

  That was where Herald came in.

  Herald is the most unassuming man that I’ve ever met. He’s the type that could move around a room unnoticed, and his way with NPCs from any lineage is God-Tier. I don’t know if it’s because of a special skill, or because of who he is as a person. Herald always claims he isn’t smart, and that his wife, Jean, is the real brains behind the operation. But he is incredibly sweet and likeable, and his work is top notch. I can’t think of a single bad thing I’ve ever heard about him.

  “I was starting to think that you weren’t coming. I’m glad to see you.” I said. And surprisingly, I meant it. “How’re Jean and Thomas? Y’all holding out okay?”

  “Oh they’re good.” He replies, “Thomas isn’t sleeping again, but I’m finally making enough that the wife isn’t so worried about the hospital bills anymore. We’re getting there. How’s Goose?”

  “He’s good. Probably sleeping in my rig as we speak,”

  Herald laughs with me. I pull up my rig camera, which allows me to see what’s happening in and around my rig outside of the game. Sure enough, Goose’s laying in the rig next to my feet, mid bath but looking at the door. Something in the hallway must’ve caught his attention. The perks of apartment living.

  I turn off my camera.

  We both stand there, people watching in a comfortable silence. That’s another thing I like about Herald. I’ve only been on a few assignments with him, but he’s the kind of person that’s comfortable in silence. He doesn’t feel like he needs to fill it just for the sake of keeping his thoughts at bay. I’m grateful for that. I’ve got troubles, and I know he’s got them to. And sometimes just existing next to each other doesn’t fix it. But for a minute or two, I can tell he also feels less alone.

  The last guests enter, silver and gold, and a trumpet sounds.

  It’s finally time.