Gazing at the metropolitan horizon of S?o Paulo was, for Júlia, a daily reminder of how much her life had changed since the end of the Dark Age.

  Taking her eyes off the clouds, Júlia’s attention returned to the cafeteria table where she was having lunch with her students from the Crows Academy, the Red Crows Organization’s training program.

  The group was discussing the morning training session. Every now and then, someone would bring up a different topic. A girl with short hair and rectangular glasses craned her neck to ask Júlia:

  “Instructor, what was it like competing in the World Championship last year?”

  “It was incredible, and… very frustrating too,” Júlia replied.

  “And what was it like fighting against Seven Heavens?” asked a boy at the corner of the table.

  The girl with glasses elbowed him and scolded, “Shut up. You can’t just ask something like that.”

  “It’s okay,” Júlia reassured them. “The duel against White Snow was a shock for me and the rest of the team.”

  “Legendary classes should be banned,” the girl with glasses protested. “It’s not fair for one person to have an exclusive class. How were you supposed to know what a duelist could do? You had no way to practice against him before the semifinals.”

  Everyone at the table agreed.

  Júlia recalled that fateful match. In the end, only she and Dante remained against the duelist considered the best in the world. It was the semifinals of the championship: Brazil versus South Korea. It was the first time the country had come so close to the title.

  But everything fell apart. White Snow was a monster in movement, game reading, and raw strength. On top of the exclusive class, he possessed one of the few relic grade weapons, an item given only to the World Championship winners—a masterpiece superior to any legendary item in the game.

  Still, the Dark Age had prepared exhaustively by studying Seven Heavens’ previous matches.

  Despite all those countless hours of preparation, the dream of the title crumbled when White Snow killed Júlia and defeated Dante in a 1v1. The frustration of the loss still weighed on her, the pain of disappointing her team was immense, and it still hurt.

  Her expression dimmed at the memory, and when the girl with glasses noticed, she tried to console her, “Instructor, it wasn’t your fault. He cheated.”

  Another girl added, “You’re our inspiration.”

  Her students’ comments were so silly, yet so sincere, that Júlia couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. She thanked them jokingly. “Amanda, Natália, you’re just buttering me up so I’ll pass you both on today’s test, aren’t you?”

  The two girls’ faces turned red, but they played along and laughed at themselves. In that cheerful mood, lunch continued until everyone at the table was full.

  The boys gathered and decided to go to the war room; that’s what they called the place where teams met to study combat tactics and strategies. The girls, meanwhile, went to the training room to sharpen their fighting skills.

  Júlia brought the juice box to her mouth, finishing the drink through the straw, then scanned the other cafeteria tables. Most were already nearly empty, so she peeked into the Nap Corner, a special area with beanbags, tablets, and a bookshelf for the team members to relax while digesting their meals.

  Slouched on the blue beanbag was the captain of the main team, Cristiano Barbosa, flipping through a paper book. He was the only one in the organization who refused to read literary works on electronic devices. “It’s unnatural,” he always said.

  Júlia got up, walked to the Nap Corner, sank into a brown beanbag, and greeted Cristiano as her body was absorbed by the softness of the seat.

  “Good afternoon, Captain.”

  He lifted his eyes from the book to look at her, then brushed the long strands of hair covering his left eye.

  “Júlia… good afternoon?” He sounded puzzled. “Shouldn’t it be good morning?”

  “It’s past noon.”

  “That’s true.” He brushed the hair from his face again.

  Júlia pulled a hair tie from her jeans pocket and, before tossing it to him, said, “Catch.”

  But the hair tie bounced off Cris’s hand and flew away, making him groan, “God, why do you do this to me?” He got up to retrieve it. When he returned to the beanbag, he asked, “So… are you doing okay? Adjusting to your new home?”

  “I am, thank you for asking.”

  “And how are our Academy students? Have you found a potential White Snow among them?”

  She scratched her hair, hesitating before answering, “Compared to previous classes, they’re a bit behind, but I see progress in some of them.”

  “Their contracts end in a few weeks. We need backup players who can match the starters of secondary teams…”

  What he wanted to know was clear. Júlia looked at the table where she had lunch with her students and recalled the conversation she had with them. With a heavy heart, she said, “Unfortunately, no. They all still need months of training.”

  “I know how hard it is to do what you’re doing, but there’s no way around it. We can only keep those with real potential. It’s a waste of time and money to pour resources into a mediocre player. If that were our goal, it would make more sense to buy a fading pro or someone who never stood out.”

  “I know.”

  An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

  “Remember when we bought your ex-boyfriend’s avatar at an auction?”

  “Of course, you told me Gustavo would be using it from now on.”

  “We changed our minds when we decided to hire you. I realized how disrespectful it would be to have a player using Daniel’s old avatar around you. So, to avoid complications, we transferred Dante’s equipment to Gustavo’s account; then deleted the original.”

  Júlia was shocked. The avatar of someone who had made history alongside her was erased overnight. Now, the only memory of Dante would be the Amethyst Hammer wielded by someone undeserving, who got it handed over for a fortune.

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  She stood up, clenched her fist, and demanded, “How could you allow such a thing?”

  Cristiano widened his eyes and pressed his lips together before explaining, “We did it for you…”

  “You didn’t need to delete that damn account. You destroyed years of history. How can you even say you did it for me?” Her tone drew the attention of the cafeteria staff.

  “Uh…” Cristiano stammered, trying to get up from the beanbag.

  But Júlia stormed out of the cafeteria.

  ***

  It was almost evening. Afternoon training had ended. Júlia exited the immersion pod and said goodbye to her students. It took a lot of self-control not to take out her anger at Cristiano on them.

  She was still furious that he had done such a thing. The last thing she wanted at that moment was to hear his excuses, so she walked through the Red Crows building carefully to avoid running into him.

  When she arrived in her room, she celebrated by throwing herself onto the bed. The outfit she would wear that night hung on a hanger attached to the closet door, but for now, she ignored it, eager to watch the new episode of Chronicles of Avalon, the favorite series of any player or enthusiast of New Avalon Online.

  As the title suggested, the series took place in the game world, revolving around wars between kingdoms. Today’s episode was titled The Legion of the Dead. Júlia’s eyes lit up just reading it.

  But the doorbell rang during the opening credits. Annoyed at the interruption, she went to the door and yanked it open. Standing there was a man, 6’5” tall, with long dark hair tied back with a purple hair tie.

  “Can I come in? Or, if you prefer, we can talk somewhere else…” His voice was naturally deep.

  “Cris?” She was speechless. “Sure, come in.” She stepped aside to let him pass.

  Then closed the door; nervousness began to surface. Even though she didn’t want to talk to Cristiano, he was the captain’s team.

  “I came to apologize. I know it was dishonest of me to make you think we deleted Daniel’s avatar for your sake.”

  “I’m still mad at you guys,” she said, looking him in the eye.

  “Right. Do you want the truth?”

  Júlia nodded.

  “I swear, in the name of our friendship, that I had nothing to do with the account being deleted. That order came from above,” he said, pointing to the upper floors.

  “You’re joking…”

  Cris untied his hair and returned the hair tie she lent him.

  “I swear. But you know what really bothers me? I found out that this order came from your old boss, Ronaldo. Apparently, he’s now part of Virtual Realms.”

  “Impossible.” Júlia covered her mouth with her hand.

  Cris turned toward the TV in her room. Seeing what was playing, he jumped.

  “Shit, I forgot it’s CoA day.” He leapt off the bed and said goodbye, “Júlia. I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship. I’ve admired your talent since our days in Dark Age. Can’t wait to fight alongside you again.”

  He ran to the door; reached for the handle; then Júlia said, “Okay, I’ll let this slide.”

  “Thank you. You won’t regret it, I promise. Now I need to hurry so I don’t miss the episode.”

  Júlia gestured to the TV, suggesting, “Or you can stay and watch.”

  “Perfect.”

  “But you have to get us something to drink, and fast. They’re still recapping the last episode.”

  Cris looked at her, asking, “Whiskey?”

  “Exactly,” Júlia replied with a wink.

  ***

  Thirty minutes into the episode, both Cristiano and Júlia had rosy cheeks. Each held a half-full glass of the Irish whiskey chosen by the team captain. The bottle was resting on the headboard.

  Cris sat in a chair with his feet on a yoga ball. Júlia, sitting on her bed, turned her flushed face toward him and asked, “I’ve always wanted to know something…”

  “I know!” Cris said loudly, raising his glass, nearly spilling his drink. “You want to know if the rumors about me leaving are true.”

  “Wow, Cris, you’re so smart,” she said with a silly smile.

  “It’s ALL true!” Cris stammered. “I left Dark Age because I couldn’t stand Richard de Carvalho anymore. That little asshole of a captain. What a disgusting guy—DIS-GUS-TING.” He emphasized each syllable.

  Júlia scooted to the edge of the bed and asked another question,

  “Did you really cry after training?”

  Cristiano’s face deepened in color. He hesitated, then answered with a sad seriousness, “Sometimes. Richard wanted to turn me into a fighting machine. But no matter how much he forced me to train sixteen hours a day, I couldn’t meet the expectations.”

  “So that time you went to the hospital…”

  “Consequences of overtraining. Back then, it was common for me to vomit from stress and exhaustion.”

  “I remember…” Júlia snapped her fingers as realization hit her. “My God, Cris, I’m so sorry.”

  Cris swirled his almost-empty glass and replied nonchalantly, “The past is the past. The important thing is the three prodigies surpassed their master.”

  Júlia raised her glass, and they toasted. From then on, both stopped drinking to focus on Chronicles of Avalon. The screen showed a crowd of undead soldiers, resurrected by necromancy, marching down a dirt road.

  “Man, this gives me goosebumps,” Cris said as a figure in dark, opulent, tattered robes appeared on screen, his cadaverous face smiling at the viewers.

  “Ew, that’s horrifying,” Júlia muttered.

  The camera pulled back from the creature’s face to reveal a city with tall, dark walls.

  “I know this place,” Júlia whispered. “It’s the city of Salem.”

  “Yeah.” Cristiano turned to her, smiling confidently, and ordered, “I want you to gather your team for intensive training in that city.” He pointed at the screen.

  ***

  The professor stood from the table, collected his materials, and announced to the class, “Class dismissed, everyone. Don’t forget next week’s seminar. Have a good week.”

  The fourth-semester architecture students celebrated the end of another morning of classes. Nicole packed her things and headed out.

  Sleep made her yawn; the fatigue came from hours practicing combos with her assassin in New Avalon Online. But she didn’t regret it—in fact, she counted the minutes until she could get home and finish her homework to dive into the virtual world as soon as possible.

  Descending the long staircase, she spotted a familiar figure sitting on a wooden bench in the university garden. She quickened her pace and sat beside the boy with curly brown hair, absorbed in his own world, wearing headphones and staring blankly at the phone in his right hand.

  “What are you watching?” she asked, craning her neck to see the screen.

  The boy jumped in surprise, pulled off the left earbud, turned the phone so they could both see, and said, “Just look at this guy; he was the best knight in the world.”

  Nicole glanced at the video title: Dante – Best Moments – A Tribute to Brazil’s Finest. She reached out and took the left earbud from him.

  “Niki!” he grumbled.

  “Stop whining, Artur.”

  She leaned in until their arms touched.

  “Ah, I know this guy,” Nicole exclaimed. “He was everywhere. Looks like he fought badly with everyone on the team and even physically attacked a player. That Dante is just a megalomaniac jerk who thought he was hot stuff because he was considered the best in the country.”

  Artur stayed silent. His eyes reflecting the phone screen, seeming sad for some reason.

  “Did something happen?” asked Nicole.

  “My application to Crows Academy was rejected. They said my age didn’t fit the training program.”

  Niki placed her right hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, “But you’re 22.”

  “To them, I’m too old.” Artur’s voice was loaded with buried contempt.

  “But there are plenty of people over thirty competing in tournaments.”

  “I know. That’s what frustrates me.”

  “Don’t worry. Soon we’ll be strong enough to compete in amateur tournaments. Everything will be fine. Before you know it, we’ll be kicking those Red Crows jerks’ asses.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’ll graduate from this damn university soon, while I… I’ll fail until I drop out completely.”

  “I can help you with any calculus difficulties.”

  “Thanks…” Artur’s downcast expression faded, replaced by radiant optimism. Nicole smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Shall we play today?” she asked.

  “Of course, we need to reach level 20 before that druid.”

  “He’s quite a character, huh?”

  “I think he’s one of those crazy geniuses,” Artur replied. “He’s really good, but to balance it out, he plays a druid.”

  “Isn’t he? He must be a sadist,” Nicole laughed.

  “It’ll be great to see all that arrogance turn into our personal healer.”

  “True. It’s getting harder to find a healer to play with us.”

  “And if… he wins?” Artur’s expression turned serious.

  “I don’t even want to think about that,” Nicole said, making the sign of the cross.

  Artur stood from the bench, adjusted his backpack, and said, “My bus should be here any moment…”

  “I’ll walk you to the stop; I live nearby.”

  He accepted, and together they walked to the bus stop crowded with other students; most of them in groups discussing classes, parties, and New Avalon Online.

  Artur said, “My bus is coming.”

  He moved to the curb. Nicole grabbed his sleeve.

  “What’s wrong? I have to go home…” Artur protested.

  But he was surprised by her determined look, as she said, “Everything will be fine, don’t give up.”

  For some reason, those words brought him a bit of peace. “Thanks, really, but I actually need to go now.”

  She said goodbye. “Text me when you’re up to some calculus study sessions.”

  He gave a thumbs-up before boarding the bus, which soon drove off. Nicole remained with her feet on the curb, watching them disappear into the distance.

  “Everything will be fine, buddy,” she said with a sigh.

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