We trek through the alley from the previous night, feeling our hearts being dragged across the pavement. I was opposed to going back to the “crime scene” from the previous night, but Yoona insisted we’d only get to our destination before sunrise if we headed away from the Town Square through the alley where we’d almost died the previous night. Other than a minor mishap with a flock of those mechanical crows that I’d now grown to despise, our trip out of Yunon went rather smoothly.

“You know, you don’t look like how I expected.” Yoona shoves another red velvet cake into her mouth, tearing into the creamy confection as we trudge along the dirt path where the brick walls I’ve become accustomed to transform into rows of trees with red leaves. 

A crinkle forms above the bridge of my nose as some crumbs plunge into the creases of her clothes, never to be seen again. Since my whole CyberWorld experience hasn’t proven otherwise, I wouldn’t be surprised if ants gathered to feast on her clothes.

“What did you expect, then?”

“Closer to what I saw in the holonews, I guess. You had shorter hair, in all those press conferences you attended with your dad.”

“Military-style—just like my old man.”

“I gotta ask, do kids at your school ask for your signature or something?”

“Yeah. They did—until I set the standard for our grades,” I say. “That took attention away from me, unfortunately.”

Yoona lets out a low whistle.  “Interesting.”

“Mmm,” I murmur. “There’s a crumb on your face, by the way.” 

Yoona pats her cheeks quizzically. “Really? Where?”

“A little to the right—no, no, too right,” My instructions fall on deaf ears as her fingers graze every part, every pore but that spot.

“Argh. Let me just—” I reach out for just above her lips and flick at the crimson bit.

“There,” I say, wiping my hands on my pants. “Now how long before we get to.”

I practically jump backwards. “Sorry. I’m used to swiping the eraser dust from my desk while I study. It’s to, uh—keep it clean.”

She doesn’t reply, her cravings finally satiated since she’s no longer munching on the cake with the same ferocity from earlier. Did I make her lose her appetite? We plough on through the mud, leaving muddy footprints behind as the forest grows less dense, the first sun rays of the morning poking through the branches crisscrossed above. My eyes skim over the tracks we leave behind, checking for any hint of radiance in the dirt–nothing. I haven’t been this paranoid since Dad invited his war buddies over for dinner.

“There,” She gestures to mountains in the distance as the forest breaks into a fractured stone terrain only broken up by loose bunches of grass that reach for the picture-perfect cloud wisps in the twilight, shrouded by the shadows cast by the mountains’ looming presence.

“It’s just up ahead,” Yoona says. “Watch your step.”

After we cross the landscape, being sure to avoid all the potholes along the way, we end up in front of the strangely smooth rock wall in the shape of a semicircle.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Yoona says. “It’s our hidden base.” 

I scoff. 

“A hidden base?”

Yoona scowls. “Yeah. So?”

“You’re saying that this mountain is completely hollow?” I say. “There’s no way there’s a whole base inside.”

I must have sounded a little too incredulous because my statement launches Yoona into a mini-rant.

“Do you think they would have built their base on the outside with a little Kakushin Games flag? The whole point of the base is to blend into its surroundings so we don’t get ambushed by those freaks.”

Wow. I’d never have guessed that the amiable shopgirl from Yunon would turn out to be so hot-headed.

Yoona steps back and clears her throat. 

“Anyway.”

She puts her hand on the rock wall and feels around for something on its surface. When she finds it, she pushes into the wall, revealing a button in an indentation the size of a hand. A speaker flips out off the wall near Yoona’s shoulders.

“Yes?” A low female voice comes out.

“Hi, it’s Yoona,” Yoona chirps. “I brought him.”

There’s a brief pause on the line.

“Bring him in.”

The speaker goes back into the rock wall. A hiss comes from the centre of the surface as it melts into two stone doors that slide open, producing a scraping sound akin to dragging an artefact across concrete.

Yoona smirks at me. “Told you.”

I roll my eyes and step inside with her. We’re shrouded in darkness when the doors behind us shut with a thud, but it isn’t long before sensors from above scan our bodies head to toe like my headset from what already feels like a lifetime ago.

The second set of doors in front of us slides open, revealing a gargantuan stone hangar that opens up to a multitude of floating metal platforms with rectangular windows and yellow guardrails thousands of feet above us. I watch on in awe as workers wearing yellow reflective vests and helmets guide them to each other with marshalling wands. When their sides touch, they fasten to the rocky walls and into one another with a click that rings down to us. Gatling guns mounted on their decks indicate they’re not merely podiums, but hovercrafts. Upsized quadcopters, to be exact.

Below these ships lies a town of army green tents, giving off vibes of a bustling marketplace rather than a military base. While Yoona leads me through the base, I catch  another worker welding another ship (this time more angular and aerodynamic). He holds onto his helmet and guides his torch along its wing, only stopping when he ensures the weapon barrel is secure.

“We call them Modders,” We hear the same female voice from earlier behind us. “We trained a fair number of employees at Kakushin to manipulate the game’s code manually, in case something like this happened.”

We turn to find Suki Hachiyo watching us with an observant gaze, her hands tucked inside her signature lab boat. Light bounces off the frame of her glasses, which somehow only highlights the intensity of her temperament. Although I’m not a big fan, I can’t help but feel a little star-struck being in her presence. 

I stick out my hand to shake hers. “It’s an honour to meet you, Ms Hachiyo.”

She complies with my request, but it feels more like an obligation than a formality as our hands bob up and down with the monotony of my study schedule. Her grip is so loose it could slip out of my palm any moment as if she can’t be bothered to waste any more energy as a futile gesture.

“You are certain he has the Skill?” Her question is directed towards Yoona.

“Yeah. It was him in the Town Square. Now, what was up with that blue flash fiasco?”

Hachiyo lets go of my hand and finally makes eye contact with me, peering up with her signature blank eyes.

“Follow me.”

The base is big to be sure, but it’s sparsely populated. The hoverships above could probably fit several crews, but only a few heads bother to spy on us as we walk on the base’s rocky surface. We pass by a huge queue of people lined up one after the other with water canteens in their hand. I’m expecting them to be getting a refill on kinergy, but it turns out to be a rusty tap raised a few feet from the ground giving water to the masses.

“The tap won’t dispense water forever,” Hachiyo says.

“What is this place?” I ask Hachiyo. She shifts her body to walk past a worker, her coat swaying as it grazes his vest.

“An emergency shelter,” Hachiyo says. “We spent the last few years stockpiling resources in bases like this. Gunships, kinergy—even food,” There’s an underlying shakiness to her voice so subtle Yoona doesn’t notice. “In case something bad happened.” 

Two C.R.D soldiers a little younger than my dad gawk at us as they pause their target practice session in a transparent booth.

Guys, I resist the urge to tell them. It’s rude to stare.

Just behind the glass booth are two identical wooden desks. Identical in terms of its model, anyway. On the surface of the desk closer to us are two bookends sandwiching a dozen binders together along with a mug shaped like an anthropomorphic piece of mochi. A tiny table lamp casts light upon a few loose sheets of paper, with a lone fountain pen serving as a paperweight. 

On the other hand, the next desk is a completely different story. Several books are stacked haphazardly near its edge, threatening to spill over into the tranquil land mere inches away. The one on top features a sinister cover of two high school students facing each other, their hair spinning into spirals that overlook the crowd of students next to them as they look on, transfixed by the bizarre sight. There’s also a journal and a pen next to the books. Instead of notes, however, the journal contains phone numbers that have either been circled or crossed out. 

The desk’s owner giggles as she flips through her books, resting her shoes on her desk. She shakes her upper foot to the beat coming from her headphones, rattling her stack of books closer to their doom.

“Nice sketch,” She murmurs as she flips the page. 

“Aiko,” Hachiyo says. She doesn’t respond. 

“Aiko,” She repeats. She’s starting to sound a little pissed off. I glance back at Yoona, fearing for my eardrums if Tokoshima doesn’t notice Hachiyo.

Hachiyo marches over and snatches the headphones off Tokoshima and tosses them onto the desk. Tokoshima’s shoulders jolt as her legs slide off the desk, knocking her stack of books to the floor.

“Oww,” She shoves his fingers through her shoulder-length hair to massage her scalp. “Seriously?”

“What happened to checking the unknown code’s source?” Suki says. 

“I did. The Modders said the Apostles stole some of our code to make explosives, okay? I just got a little sidetracked,” She gives Tokoshima her best puppy eyes. “You didn’t have to pull so hard.”

Hachiyo ignores her. “Yoona managed to find the Skill’s owner,” She waves a hand at both of us, taking a seat behind her desk. “Michael.”

Tokoshima snaps out of her grief in the blink of an eye. “Oh, Michael’s here. So that flashing light thing was you.” She scoots over on her swivel chair on the tips of her sneakers and studies my face. “Show it to me.”

“I, uh, don’t really know how.”

“Give him a rundown,” Hachiyo tells Tokoshima, crossing her arms.

“From the start?”

Hachiyo is about to nod, but hesitation flashes across her eyes. 

“That won’t be necessary,” She says. “A basic rundown.”

At Hachiyo’s expression, Tokoshima swallows. 

“Right,” She says, turning to me. “I’m guessing that on Resonance Day, you found yourself inexplicably transported from Yunon’s Town Square to—” She cuts herself off as she stares in the direction of the hoverships. “Someplace else.” She manages to gather her thoughts.

“Yeah. Why?”

“That proved two things,” She puts up one finger. “The existence of one of the game’s most powerful abilities, in fact, isn’t a rumour,” She puts up another. “And second, it belongs to CyberWorld’s newest star player,” She leans in a little too close for comfort. “That’s you.

“You didn’t teleport for any old reason, you know. You have Chronocease.”

“Chrono—” I say. “Sorry, what’s that?” My voice drops to a whisper.

“I won’t go into specifics just yet, but you could boil it down to a superpower of sorts,” Tokoshima says. She gestures to Hachiyo and grins. “Although Hachiyo-san would prefer to call it a Special Skill.”

“I would.”

“Anyway, the Town Square was the beginning,” Tokoshima says. “Chronocease is as fluid as you make it. You shape the rules,” She grins, raising her hands and dropping them to her knees. “Be like water, my friend.”

Yoona and I stare back blankly as the remark is lost on us. 

“How did you activate the Skill?” Hachiyo asks. She maintains the mysticism of her demeanour as a hint of curiosity springs from her voice.

“I don’t really know,” I shrug. “It just sort of happened.”

“Try to remember, please.” She doesn’t sound as authoritative as she did on NHK, but there’s that thirst for knowledge in her voice that needs to be quenched, ASAP.

I scratch my head. In doing so, a chunk of leftover forest dirt falls from my palm along my scalp. Tokoshima snickers. I pinch myself with my other hand for embarrassing myself in front of everyone. 

I clear my throat. 

“If you’re counting thoughts, I told myself I wanted to get out of the Town Square. Did I start it on accident?”

“Perhaps. Mental commands may be tricky, but they’re intuitive,” She says. “Try using it again.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Yeah, but instead of using it, feel like you’re about to use it,” Tokoshima chimes in. “Channel that energy—wait, no—” 

“Emotion!” Tokoshima snaps her fingers and points at me in one swift motion. “Channel your thoughts.” She beams, clearly satisfied at finding the right word to use. “From the Town Square, I mean.”

I glance back at Yoona, unsure what to do with what the two women have told me. She gives me a solemn nod. 

“Alright. Here goes…”

I’m preparing to leave. I’m preparing to leave. I’m preparing to leave. 

I try getting myself into the right headspace, squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my fists until my knuckles turn white. As my palms become clammy, there’s a vibration that comes from my palm. 

When I look down, turquoise bolts are bouncing across my hand. They exude just beyond the rim of my fingertips, surging across my follicles as they shiver with delight. As the numbing sensation returns to grace my fingers, Tokoshima leans in and looks upon the aura with the glee of a child tearing into her birthday. 

“Incredible. I’d never thought we’d see it again.”

“We won’t need to, once the Apostles are dealt with,” Hachiyo says. She paces over to Tokoshima’s desk and looks through the stack of papers. 

“Why are we back to using pens and paper, again?” Tokoshima asks Hachiyo. 

“Since the Apostles managed to hack the simulation, they could do the same to our data,” Hachiyo says. “Goodness. You’ve barely gotten it done.”

“Whoops,” Tokoshima chuckles, her laughter laced with uneasiness.

Hachiyo continues to flip through the papers until she lets them flutter back onto the desk.

“You haven’t done the battle formations and supply counts?” Hachiyo says. “The attack is in three days.”

Tokoshima lowers her head. “Shucks.”

Hachiyo groans. “We'll never make it through the first assault,” she says, scribbling across a sheet with a chart.

“First assault of what?” I ask.

“The Apostles,” Tokoshima says. “Who else?”

My mouth drops open. “We’re attacking them?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You can worry about it at a later time,” Hachiyo says, failing to mention when that time will be. “As for your training, we’ll start tomorrow.”

“Training?”

“You will face trials, but it will be for the greater good.”

“What trials?”

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Hachiyo looks up. “I’ll explain everything, but now isn’t the best time.”

“You should bring him to his quarters,” Tokoshima whispers to Yoona. 

“Understood.” 

Yoona nods in the direction past Hachiyo’s desk, hinting that we should get a move on.

“And, from now until he learns how to protect himself,” Tokoshima says, stopping us in our tracks. “You’ll be his guide.”

“What? Now I gotta deal with him, too?” Yoona’s tone is a little too vexed for my liking. “No offence,” She mumbles when I shift my eyes to her.

“You already know the ins and outs of the simulation, right?” Tokoshima says. “Give Michael a rundown of the place.”

“We know about those posters you put up at your shop,” Hachiyo says. The slightest hint of a smile creeps onto her lips. “They were cute.”

“Oh. Haha,” Yoona lets out a forced laugh. “Good one.” 

She turns to me. “Let’s go find your bunk.”

Yoona leads me away from Aiko and Suki's "office" along the cave. It stretches on forever, stretching far beyond what the eye can see.

“Are they always like that?”

“From the last few weeks I’ve known them? Yeah,” She says. “I’ve always been a huge fan, but I never expected them to be so…”

“To be so what?”

“Down-to-earth, maybe?” Yoona says. “I thought most celebrities turn into jerks off-camera. My favourite author writes like Shakespeare, and even he turned out to be an asshole.”

I snicker. “Hachiyo doesn’t seem too happy I’m here.”

Yoona grits her teeth. “That’s just her style. Besides, we’re being mentored by two of the smartest women on Earth,” She says. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

She beckons me to enter the truss tower in front that contains an elevator leading to the hoverships. With a ding, the elevator door creaks open, revealing a yellow tread plate floor that’s chipped away over time. After Yoona and I step inside, the door squeaks close and unravels its diamond pattern before the lift takes us up. 

It’s only when we’re halfway up that I can appreciate the hoverships’ gargantuan nature. Their shadows dance over the elevator’s skeletal frame, nearly making the entire lift pitch-dark. I notice Yoona leaning against the wall running her fingers through her hair, as if there are endless knots along her locks that need to be taken care of.

As the droning of the hoverships’ repair works is drowned out by the atmospheric pressure, I start getting airplane ear from how high we’re going. When I catch Yoona staring at me, I swallow to relieve my ears and feel a pop as they’re cleared.

“You know, you were pretty late to the party,” Yoona says.

“Oh? How do you figure?”

“I mean, the game’s basically six years old at this point. If you’d wanted to play the game, you would have by now,” She says. “What made you start playing?”

The question is innocent enough, but the answer isn’t.

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

With a heavy heart, I recount everything I’ve gone through until the Apostles, from getting my grades back, to destroying Issac’s headset and putting the new one on. The events are a blur as I’m forced to put my past experiences into words. By the time I’m done, Yoona is speechless as I was back in the Town Square.

“Wow,” Her eyes turn as wide as saucers. “Wow. You destroyed that guy’s headset?” She counts off one instance of my story on a finger. “Those cost a fortune. That’s messed up.”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“And,” Yoona continues, counting off another finger. “You’ve never played a video game before this.”

“Not to this extent, no.”

Another chime comes from the elevator as we reach the top deck of a hovership. When the door creaks open with our arrival, Yoona grimaces and pushes her hand over the other, stretching her fingers in a grotesque fashion. 

“How nice.”

…

My quarters here may be bigger, but my room back in Yunon was definitely a lot homelier. That is until I found out I was being watched by that psycho.

Now, I’m on the deck of Stratoskimmer 16 viewing the base in its entirety, leaning on yellow railings that go to my elbows. When I arrived in the morning, the floodlights were of a warmer hue, but it’s taken on a cooler tone to reflect the passage of time outside. If any room on the ship is like mine, the closets probably contain lounge clothes like the ones I’m wearing now. My black t-shirt and shorts flow in the wind being stirred up by the engines of the next ship above. My mouth may be dry as the Sahara from the lack of water, but the cool air is making up for it, at least.

A pair of footsteps clomps behind me, a sound that’s familiar to me after trekking through Defaggi’s Redwoods in the day. Next to me, Yoona mimics my stance by leaning on the railings. She’s wearing the same clothes as me, albeit in a feminine cut, and there’s a vacuum-sealed packet tucked under her arms.

“Hey,” I say, shifting my gaze back to the base’s interior.

“Yo.”

“Hey.”

“Is it just me, or is there, like, zero water in this place?”  I chuckle. 

Yoona shoots me a sad smile. “We’re running low. Trust me, training’s been tough.”

I watch with reverence as commands are called out and sparks are blown in the distance, indicative of Modders working hard into the night well beyond their means.

“You asked me how I started playing,” I say. “What about you? How’d you end up here?”

“You’re not asking for my life story, are you?”

“Nah. TMI,” I’m surprised I can still remember that acronym. I could high-five myself now, if I had a clone. 

“I wanted to know is—if you know as much as Tokoshima says, why are you stuck selling stuff in a store no one goes to?” I ask. “No offence.”

Yoona stops leaning on the rails and crosses her arms, mimicking Hachiyo from earlier. Is the question out of her comfort zone?

“My family owns a retail business,” Yoona explains. “Keep it mind, this is New Korea we’re talking about. We don’t have Kakushin levels of success, but we have it pretty good.”

I try not to cringe hearing the state’s name. No disrespect to the place or anything, but I’d rather not be reminded of how my grades have caused me to snowball into a situation of life and death.

“My parents want me to take over when they retire. I mean, I don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean their business is invalid, you know?” Yoona says, her bangs covering her eyes as she picks at her fingernails. “I don’t want you working in a simulation, they’ll say…”

Yoona laughs, but it sounds forced as if she’s just been kicked in the gut. “Oh well. Once we get out of this hellhole.”

A hovership glides above us, moving towards the one next to it as a yellow drawbridge extends onto its side. The vehicles barely vibrate as they dock into place, whether it’s due to the pilots’ competence or the ship’s repulsion itself.

“You okay?” I ask Yoona as she stares blankly at the diamond-patterned floor. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Yoona shoots me a forced smile. “Dehydration’s a bitch.”

We continue watching the base’s activities in silence for a while before Yoona fumbles with her shorts.

“Oh yeah,” Yoona rubs some snot from her nose and hands the packet to me. “Hachiyo told me to give this to you.”

I take it and open it up, looking back at Yoona in disbelief.

“Robes. And a training schedule.”

“Can’t have you watching from the sidelines,” Yoona says, rocking her head left and right. “Gotta get you in the fight ASAP, you know?”

I feel a chill run down my spine as I store the paper in my pocket. I’m not very eager to agree with her. 

As I stretch my waist with help from the amber guardrails, I start to get why Issac and his peers have taken a liking to CyberWorld. The Apostles aside, all the moments where time slips through my fingers have been rather serene. And that’s more that I can say for the players from my high school.

 I can’t help but let the next words slip out of my mouth.

“It’s beautiful.”

Yoona glimpses the awe in my eyes and she faces front, resting her chin on her arms. Her hair falls along the barriers, fluttering in the wind like feathers of a flock.

“Gorgeous,” She murmurs.