The door beside the long service desk opened, and I sat up straighter. We’d been there for less than an hour, maybe, but it felt like forever. Savage and Cody, the guy with glasses, came out, followed by… a sphinx?

  “Sheriff Zayan,” Savage announced, walking out after the sheriff.

  The sphinx’s almost human face blended the elongated nose of a lion and the piercing eyes of a bird of prey, forming a noble-looking visage. His hair was like what I’d seen in history books and TV documentaries that showed Egyptian artwork. Plaits woven with beads adorned his head. He wore a utility vest on his leonine torso and nothing else, feathered wings tucked tightly to his sides.

  I’d rather not think of what I’d witness if he turned around. Seeing fuzzy lion testicles would just top this day off.

  He padded over to me, first.

  I sat there, still for a breath before saying, “Okay, I have some questions.”

  “Not before you answer mine.” The sphinx interjected smoothly.

  He had a soothing yet commanding voice. I could see why he got the job as sheriff in this area. I gestured for him to go ahead while glancing at the deputy. Savage got all surprised I spoke English, but this sphinx could, and she didn’t blink. Unfair.

  “What is your name?”

  That was easy. “Dathai.”

  I wanted to talk to him. I wanted the giant winged lion guy to talk to me, even though I knew it could lead to disaster. He radiated cool like an AC on a summer day. I had to watch myself.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Earth, 2025,” I responded, trying to slip in a question and snapping my jaws shut when his brows pulled down. His face went through a cascade of emotions, large leonine eyes blinking back sudden emotion.

  “Tell me of Men-nefer,” he implored.

  Something about his voice caused an ache in my own heart. Dude was homesick and probably old, considering I had no idea what Men-nefer was. I worked in shipping, and we shipped everywhere. Never seen Men-nefer on a label.

  “Memphis?” Jake called out from the other side of the room.

  He’d been leaning towards us, elbows balanced on his knees to keep from falling forward. The sheriff gave him a weighty look, then motioned him to come over. While his focus was on Jake, I stared at him, looking over my HUD display. He was strong. His life pool was huge, dwarfing mine and the others.

  It hit me then. He’d been human.

  At the beginning, the aspect screen—when naive me had crafted this body—Archive had offered him that body, and he took it. From the small number of old players I’d run into, they'd all chosen their own face and form. After all I’d learned, I realized what kind of guts that took.

  Well, except for the newest batch. The people from my place and time were pretty comfortable trying on new skins. We also didn’t recognize how real this VR game would be; nearly as real as life itself. Those ofus used to games and social media understood the concept of an avatar. In games, I chose a skin on a whim, knowing I could reroll if I wanted to start over.

  I grew sure that, in the days to come, I would encounter a few who regretted their choices. Yet, the System had said we could change. I just hadn’t found where to go to do it. Wasn't convinced it'd be the right move for my goals. It sure as hell wasn’t the biggest problem on my mind.

  “Memphis, near Giza, right?” Jake said, ambling over.

  His nerd skills might save us yet.

  “Yes. How does it fare?”

  Jake dug a cloven toe into the floorboards and glanced away, like he wasn’t sure if the truth would make things worse. “It’s… not the same. They still take care of the statues, though. Of Ptah, Ramses, and the sphinx, you know? It’s touristy, and people go there all the time…”

  “It was a capital of culture and commerce, once,” Zayan sighed, looking down with an elegant misery that wasn’t affected at all. He must have an insane charisma bonus. Maybe he’d been a priest, back in his former life.

  I couldn’t see the gallows out the window from this angle, but they were still on my mind. My leg started bouncing as I sat there. I only noticed when the rhythmic thumping of my knee against Deputy Savage’s desk got annoying, and I dumbly wondered where it came from.

  “Still, it pleases me that it is known, if by a different name.” The sheriff sighed with longing. “What is your name, demon?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Jake… I mean Kaelen,” he pointed a finger up at where his nameplate floated over his head.

  Zayan chuckled, his leonine smile warming the room. Damn. I get why these people followed him. “Very well. You are one of the Chosen, like us.”

  The sheriff’s wing swept to gesture across the room. The half-dozen deputies nearby beamed back at him. He called us Chosen. Sounded nicer than abductee, but I wouldn’t buy in.

  “Young Kaelen, Dathai, tell me what you were doing in Shade?”

  My knee stopped jarring the desk. Jake glanced aside again. He was worse at bullshitting than me. Dubious accomplishment there.

  We didn’t get caught with the boxes. We were just the messengers, and those don’t get killed. Or, maybe they do, and that’s why that stupid saying existed. Ugh.

  I took a long breath, and, before Jake spilled out nonsense, I said, “We were doing a job given to us by some stranger in a patchwork cloak.”

  Savage went around her desk and snapped up her notebook. “Name?”

  “Patchwork Priest. No other names.” All three of the task givers had the same title over their heads. It was a little weird that they didn’t have unique names, but the NPCs around here sometimes had generic titles instead of names. It pointed to an NPC class in the System, specific to the task.

  “Where did you meet them?”

  Jake ticked them off on his fingers. “One in Twilight, at the edge of the district, one by the Labyrinth, and the third near Heartland.”

  “Three?” Savage lifted a skeptical brow.

  I rolled my eyes. “Deputy, it’s a System-given task. Archive said the System updated with new areas and accessories and stuff. It’s a new quest, and one of the difficulty factors is avoiding you guys.”

  They all stared at me. I swept a hand at the room. “Grats. You’re recognized as an integrated part of the System.”

  Jake snapped his fingers, waggling one in the air, and said agreeably, “Congratulations!”

  The sphinx’s eyes hardened. “Then the System recognizes you as criminals.”

  I cringed a little. “Is there a fine?”

  “Imprisonment, dismemberment, or hanging are the punishments in Convergent City,” Zayan stated firmly, gaze shifting between us.

  “Deputies,” he called, and they flocked around. “Discover the depths of their crimes and punish them accordingly.”

  “Oh, fuck my life,” I groaned.

  “What?” Jake cried. “We only have five lives!”

  I shot him a glance and said calmly, “That’s more than we used to have.”

  “Still!” he shouted, stomping a hoof.

  We were paraded behind the door. The sheriff padded into his office while we, hardened criminals that we were, were put into an iron-barred holding cell. There was barely enough room for us both to lie on the floor.

  Jake wiggled into a corner, arranging his extra body parts before curling up into a ball, arms around his legs. I sat in the opposite corner, tugging my cloak around me, and glared at the plain wood wall beyond the bars.

  I was not good at handling other people’s emotions. I awkwardly glanced at him, drumming my thumbs on my thighs. His horned head rested on his arm, eyes closed. Something glimmered on white eyelashes.

  Oh, no. I was worse with tears. When I wanted to cry, I either sucked it up or disappeared so that no one had to suffer my misery. Some people wanted comfort. I really hoped Jake wasn’t one of those people.

  A long stretch of stillness passed until he spoke, voice muffled against the crook of his arm. “You know, I was finally living my dream.”

  I slanted a look his way and grunted an agreement. Doesn’t everyone want to escape their lives, sometimes? To be the hero of their own story, for just a little while. We played games to feel like we’d done something real, or maybe it was just for the constant bursts of dopamine, and there was no idealism involved.

  “Now I just want to go home,” he sighed.

  I could feel the ache in his chest from here. Seeing him like this hurt, and it made me fume. He mirrored what I felt. To me, he was like a kid brother, bullied by the System.

  “No matter what it takes,” I whispered, the gravel of my voice harsh with indignation, “No matter what bullshit gets in my way, we are getting out, Jake. We’re breaking this place.”

  A snotty sound and a wet smack of his lips came from his corner, followed by his words. “Yeah. We’re gonna kick the System’s ass.”

  “We are,” I said with absolute confidence. I wasn’t sure I could back up my promise, but I damn sure would try.

  Wooden plates and metal cups were left by the cell. I leaned forward to grab them and handed Jake his share. Bread and water. Was this really what they served in this jail? Real prison offered better food.

  “I’ve got to get out by tomorrow. I have to sun my egg,” I mumbled around a mouthful of bread.

  “What if we’re imprisoned here for days? Months? What if they—” He drew a finger across his throat.

  I shot him a hard smirk and looked at the bars, then at the slatboard wall behind us. “Then I’m breaking out, buddy. You don’t have to come with, but I’m not rotting in here.”

  “Bro,” he said, glancing around. No one was there to hear us. They’d all gone back to doing whatever they did when not arresting us.

  “Look,” I said, balancing an arm on my knee, “They can’t capture System NPCs. You know they’ll just respawn where they belong. I bet most of them don’t know the full capability of HUDs, or how to use their aspect screens. Most of them don’t seem to use inventory, for chrissake. They wear utility vests and belts.”

  “They’re stronger than us,” Jake pointed out.

  I dipped my chin, not arguing that point. They were. Zayan was like a god among these other ‘Chosen.’ “Doesn’t mean they can hold us. We just have to be smart and not engage in combat with them.”

  Jake swirled the water in his cup and sipped it. When he looked up, some life had returned to his red eyes. Relief flooded me to see it. Happy bouncy Jake may be a little annoying, but depressed Jake was awful.

  “I’m in,” he whispered, sliding his cup and plate back under the bars.

  I nodded curtly, adding my dishes to his. I’d need time to examine every inch of the wall and floor. I’d give them a chance to serve us some reasonable justice. Freedom, or they’d find out that we weren’t like other criminals.

  We came with some useful hidden baggage.

  -ARCHIVE-