Friday, August 29th, 2042, Coal Harbour, Vancouver, Canada

Lee sat in the passenger seat of his sister's car, still wearing Shane's borrowed clothes. The trunk was packed with bags of outfits Melanie swore would suit him—and still fit him two days from now.

He glanced sideways at his sister as they neared his building. She drove confidently through downtown Vancouver, her finger tapping the wheel in time with the K-pop song on the radio. The car's navigation chimed that they were nearly there. Mel glanced at the smart screen, dismissed it with a swipe, and flicked the turn signal to head left.

"Uh… I don't live that way—" Lee said. "You missed my building."

She did not turn around. "Did I?" she asked, all faux innocence, her smile betraying her and her eyes avoiding his. "Guess we'll just have to stop for a drink, then. Oh look! How perfect! A Second Cup! I'm parched."

Lee shot her a look. "Mel…"

But her grin gave her away.

He groaned. "Is this why you insisted on driving me home?"

"Honestly? No. Have you checked the trunk? It's way too many bags to fit on public transport."

"I didn't have to take the SkyTrain. I could have called a cab." Lee sank back in the seat, groaning softly. "You're not subtle, you know."

"I'm not trying to be. You dropped her name, Lee. That's basically an invitation. What kind of big sister would I be if I didn't come check out your latte crush?" she asked. "Plus, I'm here to make sure you return Shane's clothes and my Canucks beanie."

Lee rolled his eyes, shaking his head. But despite trying to act cool, his cheeks flushed.

Mel pulled up in front of the coffee shop and shut the engine. "Come on. My treat," she said, opening the door after checking for incoming traffic.

He followed her out. "You already insisted on paying for all my clothes. You could let me pay this once, you know."

"Lee… You barely make ends meet and live in a place built by someone who had no concept what interior walls are. I think I'm allowed to ease your financial burden as you go through one of the most transformative episodes, not just in your life, but in all of recorded history. I've got you covered, little brother."

The bell over the door chimed, and the cosy scent of roasted beans and warm spice wrapped around them like a hug. Past the morning rush and not yet lunch, the café was quiet. A couple sat near the window, and someone vigorously typed on a vintage laptop in the corner.

Behind the counter, Hana looked up from the espresso machine. "Welcome to Second Cup," she said automatically—then paused as recognition flickered across her face. "Oh, hello! Lee, right?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey. Yeah. Uh, we needed a pit stop."

"I see. What can I get you two?" Hana asked, eyes flicking toward Melanie.

Mel stepped to the counter. "Just dropping him off, but I figured we'd swing by for drinks. He says you're the best around."

Lee groaned. "Mel…"

Hana laughed softly, resting a hand on her hip. "The best, huh? That's a new one."

"I'm just quoting him," Melanie said with a shrug, eyes already drifting to the menu board like it was suddenly fascinating.

Lee tilted his head, motioned toward Mel, and whispered, "Sorry. She's kind of like this."

"I don't mind," Hana whispered back. "She's got chaotic-good energy."

Melanie chimed in before he could respond. "Anything good you recommend? Something not basic? I'm trusting your instincts."

"Risky," Hana warned playfully, but she was already moving. "Pumpkin matcha with oat milk. Subtle chaos."

Mel nodded in approval. "That sounds great. You're good at this."

"Thanks!" Hana smiled. "And your name?"

"Mel. I'll pay for baby brother, too."

Then Hana turned back to Lee. "And what will you have?"

"Uh… same as yesterday?" he blurted out.

Oh great, as if she'd remember a random person's order.

"Hmm." Hana tilted her head. "Iced vanilla bean latte, was it?"

Lee stuttered his reply. "I—uh. Yeah. That one."

Behind him, Melanie barely stifled a laugh.

The barista rang up the order, and Mel swiped her phone for payment.

"Coming right up." Hana lingered for a second too long, her eyes clinging to his body—her smile more thoughtful than teasing this time. "You look... different. In a good way."

Lee blinked, unsure if she meant it. But Hana had already turned away, busying herself with steaming milk, not really waiting for a reply to her comment. The insistent grind and hiss of the espresso machine overpowered all other sounds in the coffee shop, its mechanical clamour a stark contrast to the previous quiet ambiance.

Melanie leaned in. "So this is the vibe, huh?"

"What vibe?"

"The oh-no-she's-cute-and-sees-through-me vibe."

Lee glared at her. "Can you not?"

Mel sipped her water from the self-serve bar. "No promises."

A few moments later, Hana returned with both drinks and set them down gently on the counter. "One Pumpkin Chaos for Mel and your Ice Vanilla Bean Latte, Lee."

Lee reached for his cup, but not before Mel noticed the heart next to his name.

"Thanks," he said, picking his drink. "I'll see you around, I guess."

"I'll be here. And remember, shooting star—I expect updates about your first shoot or debut album," Hana said, completely straight-faced.

Melanie cracked up.

Lee blushed hard. "Please stop teasing me."

He cautiously took a sip of the drink, his tongue tingling with anticipation. It was perfect, again.

Hana leaned forward on the counter. "You two have anything fun planned for the weekend?"

They looked at each other. Lee hesitated. "Huh…"

"Not much. I'll be hanging out with our folks later. But Lee here's probably too busy with his work on his modelling career?"

"Is that so?" she asked, eyes sparkling. "Well, maybe I'll see you again this weekend."

Mel tapped her cup. "You've just made my entire day."

"I do what I can," Hana replied.

They left with drinks in hand; the door jingling behind them. As they walked toward the car, Melanie bumped her shoulder into Lee's.

"So? Cute, funny. Makes drinks tailored to you personally. Clearly fancies you. What's the plan?"

Lee kept walking, face flushed but smiling. "I'm going to log in the game and try very hard not to think about any of what just happened this morning."

"Huh—? You're going back in? After everything that happened to you?"

Lee took a long sip before answering.

"Well, you know that person on the news—the one turning into a catgirl? I didn't tell you yet, but… they're in my party. I just want to make sure they're alright. And I really want to check with my other party members. See if they're okay, too."

Mel frowned, squeezing herself back in the driver's seat. "Hopefully, they're all taking it in stride, like you are."

Lee murmured as he took his seat inside the car. "Somehow, I doubt it..."

A few minutes later, they stopped the car in one of the visitor parking spots. Lee handed Mel his drink. "Bring that up. You may have paid for it, but let me at least carry all that stuff up."

"Suit yourself," she said, sipping his latte. "Mmm. Not bad."

He gave her a wounded look.

She laughed. "Delivery fees. Be lucky I don't charge as much as takeout."

Lee rolled his eyes, sorting the shopping bags to distribute the weight between both hands as evenly as possible.

Together, they made their way to the building and then to the elevators. Lee eyed the stairwell, remembering the exhilarating feeling he had got from rushing his way up yesterday.

Would rushing up the staircase be even easier today?

After the quick elevator and short walk to the door of unit, Lee set one set of bags on the floor, took his keycard out and swiped it by the scanner. The door to his apartment opened and he stepped inside. Lee took off his shoes and dropped off the shopping bags by the entrance. He flopped backwards onto the loveseat, arms spread wide.

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Mel invited herself in, stepped cautiously, looking around the place. Satisfied the place seemed normal, she approached him and handed him his drink. "Take it back before I drink it all, please."

"… Fine."

She took off her shoes, grabbed one bag at random, and brought it over to the kitchen counter. She opened drawers until she found scissors and diligently started removing the price tags.

"You sure you should be doing that? Wouldn't it be easier to refund it all otherwise?"

"I don't expect you'll be asking for a refund. Not unless you can somehow reverse this process. Not like you seem to have any interest in doing so."

She stopped in the middle of what she was doing and glanced back at him.

"You really okay with all this? With… this new you?"

Lee sipped slowly, giving himself time to think. "I think so—"

But how much of that is really me?

"—But?"

"But a part of me wonders if the game has messed with my head. Like, is it making me accept this? I'd need to talk with others who went through the same thing. Maybe they'll echo the same feelings? Maybe they won't."

"Hmm. What's more likely? That a computer game is able to make you accept something like a brand new body, or that this is something you've been carrying your whole life without even noticing?"

Lee closed his eyes and exhaled. "They both sound as likely, Mel. What doesn't make sense is a game being able to do… this," he said, waving his hands from his chest to his knees.

"Sure. We can all agree that part defies everything we know about the universe and biology. But—and that's the funky bit—we don't need to debate that point. Because we can see it. We can touch it. It's there, whether it makes sense or not. However, when it comes to what's going on inside your head? I don't have a clue. And depending how it's affecting you, you possibly wouldn't, either."

"Not very reassuring, sis."

"Sorry, bro. Just stating facts. Anyway. You're trying to figure out if the game's making you happy, or if that's actually something you've always wanted. What if it's even simpler, though? What if it's like discovering a new flavour you never even knew existed? And once you've tasted it… you realise you've been missing it your whole life?"

Lee wondered about it. "Maybe? I mean, you know the reason me and Daniel broke up."

"Because everything was always about him?"

"Well, there was that. But also because the role he wanted me to fill in his life—it never felt like it was me?"

"Well, if this," she said, gesturing in his direction, one of his new shirts in her hands. "—is who you really are, then I can see why the role of the docile, stay-at-home wife was never meant to be."

Could it really be this easy?

"You think so?"

Mel shrugged, picking up a new bag of clothes and emptying the content on the counter. "It makes sense to me. When I design clothes, I often picture the person who will model it. Different cuts flatter different body shapes. Maybe you were just trying to fit into the wrong clothes—because someone with terrible taste told you they were so you, and you believed them."

"Omma's fashion sense had always been pretty terrible..."

She chuckled. "Yes. But please never let her hear you say that. But now, please get changed. I'm nearly done here, and we've both places to be and things to do."

"Yes, yes… You got something picked out for me already?"

"But of course," she said, handing him a neatly folded stack. "Did you forget who you were talking to?"

He accepted it and retreated into the bathroom. He looked at the clothes, scarcely believing it. Those were new clothes, fit for this body—and entirely his.

He peeled off Shane's hoodie and shirt, pausing in front of the mirror. Would he miss what was left of Sophie, when in a few days, there would be no trace of her left? Even if this form still felt temporary, there was a certain familiarity to it. Something he had grown up with. A trace of the DNA he was born into.

If things kept going as they were, he would soon lose everything he had been. Would it be like a butterfly shedding its chrysalis—unrecognisable, but still the same soul underneath?

He shook his head and looked at the pile of clothes, finding the shirt Melanie had picked for him today. It was a short-sleeved black button-up shirt. Slightly too long and too big for him right now, but he could easily picture how it would flatter Leoric's frame perfectly.

He finished dressing quickly, fastening the belt over his new beige cargo pants so they would not slip off. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, going for a relaxed look.

He admired how effortlessly he pulled off the look.

I should probably thank Mel for all her help building my new wardrobe.

Lee carefully folded all of Shane's clothes and took off the beanie, putting it on top. He opened the door and stepped back into his living room, where he found Melanie sitting in the loveseat, watching a K-Drama rerun at low volume on the TV.

"Sorry for the delay," he said, approaching and offering her the small pile of clothes. "Here you go."

Mel turned the TV off and stood up. Instead of taking the clothes, she pulled him into a crushing hug. "I'm heading to see the parents. I won't say a word until you're ready. But please don't shut them out. We're still family."

Still holding the clothes, Lee nodded. "Don't worry, sis. I won't. I just don't think it's the right time. This isn't an emergency."

She released him and accepted the clothes. "Lee, if this isn't bad enough to be an emergency, I dread to think what would qualify."

"You're really making a mountain of a molehill," he said, shrugging. "I'm fine. I'm all hale and healthy. And maybe even a little bit handsome," he chuckled.

Mel laughed, unable to hold it in. "And humble, too, I see," she said, after wiping away some tears. "I… I better get going."

"Sure. Let me accompany you down."

Lee grabbed a baseball cap, and they left the apartment together. They walked down the corridor and called an elevator, waiting in silence. The soft hum of the building surrounded them as they stared at the numbers above the door. For a while, neither of them moved or said a word, but then Mel peeked in his direction.

She stepped back and inspected him properly. "You know… That look? It really works for you."

The elevator announced its arrival, and she pushed him gently, one hand against his chest. "Go. I can find my way to my car alone. Your friend might need you."

"Alright. I'll see you later, Mel."

She stepped inside the elevator, pressed the button for the ground floor, but held the door open with one hand. "Of course. You can bet I'm gonna call and make sure to check on you every day."

"Thanks. Really."

She waved as the elevator doors slid shut, quiet as a held breath.

Lee casually waved her goodbye. When he heard the elevator moving, he headed back inside his apartment.

He took a tall glass, filled it with water, and drank the whole thing in a few gulps. He took all of his brand new clothes and transferred them to his bedroom. As he had no room for them in any drawer at the moment, he just piled them on the unused half of his bed.

He returned to the living room and powered up his VR rig.

He checked his phone. It was not even noon yet. He did not have the contact details for any of his party members.

Kaelyn, Vaelith, Elyssia… I hope you three are doing okay.

"First—let's make sure my schedule for the weekend is clear…"

He connected the neural jack at the base of his neck—and opened his eyes in the gray-scale void of VR space.

In the untextured space of his VR Hub, he checked both his calendar and email apps. Nothing on the agenda for today, and nothing over the weekend. He nodded in satisfaction.

He walked to the game's floating window, his finger hovered over the play button. The interface pulsed in sync with his heartbeat. Yesterday, it had been an escape. Today, it was a lifeline—a tether to people he cared about. Kaelyn's life—and possibly thousands more—were changing because of it.

He quickly went through the different options and checked for updates or patch notes, but found nothing new. Nothing since the initial acknowledgement. But this was more than just the original glitch now.

Are they ever going to say something about this? Or are they just going to keep pretending everything's fine?

He pressed the play button and opened his eyes. He was kneeling off a road in the Whispering Wilds, his ghillie cloak covering him so he blended almost perfectly in the natural environment. This was where he had left his character off yesterday, after Mel's call.

He pulled off the hood of his cloak and stood up. "Right. I had just finished gathering cotton for Vaelith."

He opened the party interface.

Leoric Stargazer, Galán, Ranger 19. Whispering Wilds.

Kaelyn Moonshadow, Encantadora, Priest 18. Offline for twelve hours.

Vaelith Dawnscale, Ícono, Mage 18. Offline for twelve hours.

Elyssia Windwhisper, Guardián, Martial artist 19. Offline for twelve hours.

"Looks like I'm the first one online today." He let out a sigh. "Guess I'll go kill time in the Myrknar Woods. Gather up enough wood to make the new tiers of bow ahead of time, while I wait?"

With a clear goal in mind, Leoric set off to the east. He did not know how long it would take for anyone else to show up online, but he wanted to be there for when they did.

"Hmm. While I'm there, I might as well spend some time hunting. I can probably make some brand new armour for the team; there're plenty of giant boars in the forest, and boarskin leather starts at level twenty."

Historically, warm, comfortable boots had gone a long way to keep soldier's morale up.

"I should be able to solo the mobs in that zone without issue, at my current level and skills."

As he kept walking, he wondered what kind of feast Vaelith could cook up the meat from his kills.

He salivated as he imagined Méchoui—roasted boar on a spit.

When he had picked the ranger class, he had done so to avoid any kind of responsibility and leadership. He wanted to be free. But now, he found himself smiling at the idea of supporting others, even if it was through something as simple as gathering crafting materials. This was so far from the reason he had chosen this class when he had created his character.

As he walked towards Myrknar Woods, he opened the game interface, pulling out the list of level thirty classes.

"Once we hit level thirty… should I switch?" he muttered. "Eight new classes unlock. Huh."

He knew the starting classes weren't strictly weaker—just simpler. The later ones had flash, sure, but also expectations. Priests, for example, probably remained the best healers at any level range. There were many reasons for developers normally to stagger the classes throughout the levelling experience. One was to combat analysis paralysis—if there were twenty classes to pick at level one, new players would struggle to pick one.

"For main tanking, there's the crusader and dark knight—tanking with healing, or tanking with drains."

Crusader and dark knight were, in a way, different flavours of the guardian class. While a guardian's mechanics focused around their giant shield, the two new tanks added a touch of magic in exchange for lesser martial prowess.

"Then there's acrobat and shifter, both offering a mix of damage and tanking."

Unlike the two starter hybrid classes—martial artist and brute—who constantly mixed damage and tanking, those the advanced hybrid classes were pushed to higher levels because of their lower skill floor and higher skill ceiling. In other words, those classes had a lot of potential, but to reach it required mastery of the class's mechanics. Leoric would not be surprised to hear Elyssia changing to one of those, come level thirty.

"There's a full support class, enchanter. However, it says they can act like a tank in a fashion? Possibly through a combination of buffing the team and crippling and debilitating enemies to the point basically anyone can act as tank?"

Leoric immediately understood why a class like this would not be available straight at level one. By itself, it probably would not do very well. Enchanter, as a class, would shine in party settings. Since most players join MMORPGs by themselves and find friends as they climb the levels. It made sense players would consider a dedicated support class only after they discovered the power of force multipliers.

"Then there's two new healers, although they're both somewhat hybrids. Captain is a mix of healing and damage while cleric is a mix of healing and tanking. I guess cleric is more healer than tank, and crusader is the other way around?"

Leoric figured the two healing classes were probably designed to balance the exact need of a team. If a party's tank had no need for a dedicated healer, then one party member could pick a more damage-focused or tanking-focused class that still has access to healing spells and status removal. They also usually soloed far more effectively than pure healers.

"So the only level thirty class that's fully focused on damage is the assassin, then?"

Leoric wondered what the rest of his party had in mind once they could change class? Did any of them plan to change their role completely? Or to pick a class that suited them better?

He could hardly picture a better fit than martial artist for Elyssia. She was already nearly unstoppable. Would she do better as a crusader? She seemed to really enjoy the mobility aspect of her class. Maybe she would do amazing with the shifter's class ability to swap between tanking and damage-dealing forms as the battle demanded it?

If Vaelith or Kaelyn wanted to change role or class, Leoric figured he would love to be able to support them. But would he pick a class with some off-healing abilities, to fill in, if it came to that?

If the party needed a healer, he could probably manage as a captain. Funny—now that he thought about it, the class fantasy fit how he had been playing all along. In hindsight, it suited him better than ranger ever did.

After all, there is no I in team.

But the class he felt the most drawn to was the assassin class. Pure damage-dealer. Similar to ranger, it was a class that would shine if they had enough time to properly setup. Sneak into position. Poison your blade, and eliminate the threat before it ever saw you. Perfect for navigating the world unseen and taking down enemies as safely as possible.

"No point overthinking it," he said with a shrug. "Level thirty's still a ways off. A lot can change before then."

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