Wyn bounds to the kitchen, not waiting to see if her mom is following. Of course she is, but Wyn doesn’t feel the need to check. Cans of beans, spices, and rehydratable food items fly out of cupboards and onto the countertop.

  “You have a lot of energy for someone who played a game for almost a full 24 hours,” Mom says, taking a seat at the dining table nearby.

  Mom is right, of course. Wyn is no stranger to long gaming sessions, but in the past they always left her groggy and off-kilter. Eden is different. After playing, she feels clear and steady instead of drained. A quick mental body scan confirms it: no fatigue, no lingering strain. The only consequence of her marathon session is a growing hunger.

  “Well, I’m just really hungry, not tired at all. Why not make you some food for once?” Wyn says as she opens the different cans.

  Mom raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re my Elowyn? Not some replacement sent from the heavens? I can’t remember the last time you actually wanted to cook.”

  Wyn rolls her eyes, annoyed that Mom used her full name. “Oh whatever. Just enjoy it.”

  “There she is,” Mom smirks.

  Wyn focuses on crafting a tasty meal with the meager ingredients they can afford. Beans, rehydrated corn, reconstituted mayonnaise, a plethora of spices, and a few peppers all come together to make a delicious bean and corn salad, but it isn’t quite enough for Wyn’s taste. She opens the fridge and looks for the final piece that’ll make it all come together.

  “Bingo,” Wyn says, grabbing the cheese.

  Mom perks up, concern written plainly across her tired face. “Woah there. We were saving the cheese for the holidays. We can’t just be eating cheese every day, you know.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll buy you some more cheese.”

  “And how exactly do you plan on doing that, hun?”

  That’s not good. Mom’s expression has soured into a classic glare that no woman learns, but every mom somehow unlocks upon childbirth. Wyn winces at the sour expression, and puts on her best pacifying smile.

  “Simple! Eden has a way to earn money.”

  Mom rolls her eyes and places a hand on the cheese, stopping Wyn from adding it to the meal. “Yeah right. Everything comes at a cost, dear. If that game is offering you money, then you shouldn’t take it. Corporations just want to squeeze you dry, and Progenitis is no better than the rest.”

  Wyn pouts, starting and stopping as she tries to form the right words. “This is legit, I promise! I just need to make a Progenitis account, and they’ll let me access funds. I already transferred some of my gold into money. It was over $100!”

  “Really?” Mom says, deep in thought. “Well, I suppose an extra hundred dollars couldn’t hurt. But you have to be careful. You don’t know what those corporate bastards want, and they can and will destroy you if given the chance.”

  Her words are heated; packed with a deep hatred Mom rarely expresses. It’s a pain Wyn has only seen a few times in her life, and it chills her to the bone. Mom has never been open about why she has such a strong hatred for corporations like Progenitis, and does not wish to discuss it, so Wyn does the smart thing and apologizes.

  “I’m sorry to bring up old wounds, Mom. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Mom sighs. “It’s alright. I should apologize. I shouldn’t raise my voice like that. I just hope I didn’t wake up Rohn.”

  Wyn takes the cheese from Mom’s hand and crumbles it into the salad. For a moment, Mom resists, but after a moment’s thought, she lets Wyn use the cheese. With about half of the small package of cheese remaining, Wyn wraps it in plastic and places it back in the fridge, not wanting to use the full package for one spontaneous meal. While she’s not as good a penny pincher as her mom, Wyn knows to be careful about frivolously using expensive things.

  “In all seriousness, I think Eden could be really helpful for us. Maybe get us out of the grey zone. Out of this crappy Cincinnati apartment and to someplace nicer,” Wyn says, plopping a scoop of the finished salad onto two plates.

  “I’ve heard that one before,” Mom says, a warning clear in her tone.

  “This is different, I promise,” Wyn protests.

  “And that one too.” Mom gives Wyn a grin. “Just be careful, and if you work hard, I’m sure it’ll work out. Just don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work okay?”

  “Yes Mom. I’ll be a good girl, I promise,” Wyn says, chuckling. “Besides, even if it doesn’t work, I could pick up some random job in Eden and it’ll pay way better than what I could make in the real world.”

  “How so?”

  “Time dilation. Every day in Eden is about two hours in real life. One week in fourteen hours. One month in two and a half days. Even if the hourly rate is lower than I could get working someplace in the neighborhood, it’ll be more overall due to the time difference.”

  Mom takes a long moment to process Wyn’s words, doing math in her head before responding. “That’s… incredible.”

  Wyn nods. “I know. See what I mean? This could be a lot for us.”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “It could be. Something just doesn’t quite add up. What does Progenitis get out of it?” Mom says, rubbing her fingers along her chin.

  Wyn shrugs. “No idea. But I won’t question easy money!”

  Mom’s eyes narrow. “You should. Nothing in this world is free.”

  “Maybe it’s different in another world. That’s what people in Eden keep saying. It’s a whole different world.”

  Mom nods, still deep in thought. Taking a bite of the salad, she gives Wyn an approving smile. “Not bad. Could use some salt, or more chili powder and cumin.”

  Wyn rolls her eyes and pushes the spice jars toward her. “Be my guest.”

  As Mom adds a few dashes of various spices to her plate, another joins them.

  “What’s going on?” Rohn groans. “Why are you up?”

  Mom sets down her fork and walks over to Rohn. “It’s very late, dear. Too late for you to be awake. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

  Rohn rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and spots Wyn and her food. His eyes dart between Wyn and the food, not sure which he’s more excited by.

  “Wait. You’re awake? Tell me all about Eden. And also give me some food. I’m hungry. What was it like?”

  Mom sighs with a smile and shrugs to Wyn. “Might as well give him a plate. Little guy won’t sleep now.”

  “Hey! I’m not that little!” Rohn complains.

  “Well, the only plate I’ve got left was reserved for a little brother, so if you’re not that little, I guess I can’t give you this.” Wyn says, revealing a third plate of salad for Rohn.

  Rohn grumbles for a moment before snatching the plate and joining the two women at the dining table. “I’m not that little anymore!”

  Wyn ruffles his hair. “Alright, you eat and I’ll tell you all about Eden.”

  Rohn digs into the salad. It’s no synth-chicken nuggets, but Rohn enjoys it anyway. Wyn fills in Rohn on everything that’s happened to her so far in Eden. From the Goblin raid when she logged in, to meeting Froggy, to hunting boomfrogs and meeting Elara. Wyn, of course, dramatises the tale and leaves out a few key details. Rohn doesn’t need to know about the strange happenings in Eden, nor the errors she keeps receiving in the game. But all the bold fights and heroic stories of Wyn facing down impossible odds? Rohn can’t get enough.

  After 30 minutes of sharing the story, Wyn comes to the end where she logged out and came back to he real world. At this point, Mom is nearly falling asleep after her long day of work, and even Rohn looks almost ready to return to bed. Wyn takes the plates and silverware and washes them off in the sink.

  “I think we should head to bed,” Mom says.

  “I’m not tired,” Rohn mumbles, eyelids sliding down like they’ve got minds of their own.

  “Yes, you are. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

  Rohn protests but lets Wyn guide him to his “room.” Calling it a room is a bit of a joke, since it feels more like a closet pretending to be important. His bed consumes the room, leaving no space for anything else. Rohn scampers his way into bed, where Wyn tucks him in and wishes him a good night. Wyn watches her little brother with a wide smile as she leaves the room, turning off the ceiling light so he can rest.

  Before heading to her own bed, Wyn pokes her head in to see Elzie. Thankfully, she’s getting some quality sleep, having removed the Elysius headset earlier in the day so she can sleep. Deciding it is best not to disturb her, Wyn leaves her alone and heads to her own bed, hoping to get some sleep.

  Despite the length of her play session, Wyn feels anything but tired. If anything, she feels as though she has just woken from the best sleep of her life, not like someone who spent over twenty hours immersed in a virtual reality game. Even so, she knows she should at least try to sleep. No matter how good she feels, staying awake that long cannot be healthy.

  Even so, this experience is nothing like her past marathons. Normally, Wyn would have crawled out of her headset as a sweaty, aching mess in desperate need of a shower. But the Eden System’s True Immersion tech leaves her refreshed, as if her body had been quietly resting the whole time while her mind was off adventuring.

  Wyn changes into pajamas and slips under the covers, but sleep refuses to cooperate. Her mind keeps replaying the day: Neil’s strange warning, the exhilarating rush of Flickerstep, the eerie feeling of the Watcher’s gaze. None of it feels like a normal VR experience. Her pulse should not quicken at the memory; her skin should not prickle. And yet it does.

  She flips onto her back and stares at the dark ceiling. Progenitis had bragged about True Immersion, but this was far beyond what Wyn expected. Every attack felt real; every injury struck with genuine pain. Even something as simple as the smell of baked bread carried with it an undeniable sense of reality. Wyn can still feel the phantom echo of essentia moving under her skin like a phantom limb. Of course, magic isn’t real, but even so, she has to try. She lifts her hand experimentally, half expecting sparks to follow her fingers. Nothing happens, of course. Still, the idea refuses to leave her.

  Wyn exhales and turns onto her side. The sheets feel warm and comfortable, but her thoughts refuse to settle. Each time she closes her eyes, she drifts back into the game. The sensation of being watched; the sound of goblin claws scraping against stone. Her pulse rises again, so she rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling for the third time.

  After another restless minute, she sits up. Sleep is not happening. She climbs out of bed and pulls on a hoodie, careful not to wake Rohn or Mom. The apartment stays quiet. The old carpet muffles her steps as she makes her way down the hall.

  She reaches the main room and stops beside the window. The street below looks empty. A few lamps flicker, and a bus rolls past the corner. In the distance, Wyn spots a hover patrol combing through a distant neighborhood. Wyn presses her forehead to the glass and watches her breath fog the surface. She used to stare out this same window when she was younger. Back then, she pretended the lights on the distant buildings were stars. She had not thought about that for years.

  A strange pressure prickles at her neck. Wyn shifts and glances over her shoulder, half expecting to see someone behind her. No one stands there. The room stays quiet. Still, the feeling lingers, like someone decided to pay attention to her, to watch her again. The same sensation of being watched keeps happening, and Wyn can feel the fear blooming in her mind, and constant vigilance taking hold. Even further adding to her restlessness.

  She moves away from the window and wanders toward the kitchenette. A single light hums above the sink. Earlier, the smell of beans and cheese had filled the room. Now the air feels empty. She opens the fridge and stares inside for no real reason. She closes it again, then grips the counter and lets out a slow breath. If she is to have any hope of sleeping, she needs to let go. After all, she’s at home. Nobody could be watching her here, right?

  A soft flicker catches her attention. The light above the sink dims. It brightens again, then steadies. Wyn holds still. She glances around the room, but nothing else changes.

  She clears her throat and walks toward the hallway. Something about the apartment feels different, like the air turned heavier while she was distracted. She cannot explain why. She knows only that she does not want to stand alone in the dark much longer.

  As she passes Rohn’s room, she hears a quiet shuffle. Wyn pauses. The noise does not come again. She cracks the door open and sees Rohn buried in blankets, sound asleep. She watches him for a brief moment, then eases the door shut.

  Back in her own room, Wyn crawls under the covers and pulls them tight around her shoulders. Her hand still tingles. She curls it into a fist and presses it against her chest. The feeling of being watched fades a little, but it does not disappear.

  Wyn closes her eyes and hopes the morning comes fast.