He blinked, expecting a fresh wave of pain, but to his surprise, none came. Cautiously, he propped himself up on his elbows, then lifted his head. A little ways away, the boy he’d rescued lay on his back, panting heavily as he’d just sprinted a marathon.
“Hey, kid,” Jack called, voice scratchy. “Are you hurt?”
The boy, barely able to speak, shook his head and gave a feeble thumbs-up. Jack stretched out each leg, testing his range of motion. He could hardly believe he was in perfect shape—no gashes, no throbbing bruises.
Better get used to this super-realistic ‘healing system,’ he thought, still half-convinced it was some next-gen VR trick.
Once he found his footing, Jack lumbered over to the boy and extended a hand, helping him stand. The kid’s breathing was still rough, his cheeks flushed, and he looked somewhat fragile in a tattered shirt and dirt-streaked trousers. Despite that, he seemed determined to keep it together.
“Thanks,” the boy managed, voice shaky but polite.
Jack tilted his head, studying him. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good,” the boy said after a few breaths, his tone low but earnest. Then he ventured a shy smile.
Jack paused for a beat. The kid didn’t look like any NPC he’d ever encountered in a game; his eyes brimmed with real emotion and intelligence. Still, Jack had to ask.
“Are you an NPC?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “Like, a non-playable character or something?”
The boy huffed a short laugh, more of a nervous exhale. “No,” he replied. “I’m not a… non-playable character.” He said the words as if they amused him but also as if he recognized precisely what Jack meant.
Jack’s shoulders relaxed. “Guess that means you’re a tester like me, huh? From the Arizona group?”
A flicker of relief passed over the boy’s face. He nodded, almost self-conscious, and brushed some dirt off his shirt. “Y-Yeah. I came with my aunt and siblings. There were… seven of us total, I think. You’re… you’re not my brother, right?”
Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Nope. I’m Jack Hart.” He offered a half-smile. “I came with my wife, Asil—dark hair, fiery attitude. You might’ve seen her.”
The boy’s eyes lit with recognition. “Oh! I remember you two. Did you say you… Wait, are you the ‘Jake’ my aunt was talking about?”
Jack let out a big laugh. “Close enough, man. It’s Jack. And you must be…” He paused, recalling the half-dozen names bandied about outside the developer’s office. “Mike, right?”
A shy grin tugged at the boy’s lips. “Actually, I’m Mike’s younger brother, Petros,” he admitted sheepishly. “But everyone gets us mixed up. I’m used to it.”
“Gotcha,” Jack said, inwardly noting that maybe his memory from that chaotic morning was a little fuzzy. “Well, nice to meet you, Petros.”
They stood there, shaking hands as if sealing a contract, each scanning the path they found themselves on. The road meandered through a sparse forest with thick underbrush and scattered boulders—any of which might hide more goblins, for all Jack knew.
They began speaking at once:
“You wouldn’t happen to—” Jack said.
“Have you seen my—” Petros started simultaneously.
They both chuckled at the awkward collision of questions. Jack motioned for the kid to go first.
“Have you seen any of my family? My aunt, my older brother Mike… Abby or Veronica?” Petros asked, eyes hopeful.
Jack shrugged apologetically. “Afraid not, buddy. You’re the first person I’ve encountered since I woke up on this road. I did hear horses at one point but never caught up with them. So… no sign of my wife either, then?”
Petros shook his head slowly, offering a sympathetic grimace. “No, sir. I wish I had, honest. I—I’ve been looking for them too.”
They stood in silence for a moment. The weight of possible dangers—wherever the others might be—hung over them. Jack cleared his throat, determined not to wallow.
Suddenly, he felt a vibration at his side. Judging by Petros’s startled expression, the boy felt it, too. They each reached for a small pouch hanging from their belts.
“You got one of these?” Petros asked quietly, pulling out a slender journal identical to Jack’s.
Jack held up his own. “Sure do. Fanciest VR menu ever, right?”
They flipped through their journals in unison, scanning the updates. Jack found a recap of the goblin battle, including the level-up prompt he’d glimpsed earlier. Sure enough, additional lines had appeared:
Quest complete: Rescue the boy.
23 copper coins added to your pouch.
Experience gained.
You have 1 unused skill point.
Loot Lesser Goblin Level 1? Yes / No
Loot Lesser Goblin Level 1? Yes / No
Loot Lesser Goblin Level 2? Yes / No
“Look at this,” Jack murmured, tapping the page. “Loot windows, just like a real RPG.” He pulled out his quill and circled “Yes” under each prompt.
New text materialized:
17 copper coins added to your pouch
Worn spell tome added to your pouch
Simple sandals added to your pouch
Jack arched an eyebrow at the mention of sandals. “Don’t see those fitting in here,” he muttered, patting the pouch. Then, to his surprise, he felt a firm, cloth-like object. Awkwardly juggling the journal under one arm, he reached in and drew out a pair of simple sandals. They looked used but not damaged—serviceable enough to spare his aching feet from more abuse.
He stepped into them and did a quick little shuffle. They fit perfectly.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Nice,” he said, flashing Petros a grin.
Petros finished reading his journal and then turned to Jack with a shy but curious expression. “So, um… I got some copper coins, too,” he admitted quietly. “And I might’ve snagged a leftover healing salve. Weird how it just appeared in my pouch, right?”
Jack nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I guess that’s how the loot system works.” He pulled a fistful of coins from his pouch, glinting shiny, freshly minted copper discs. “I was about to say we should split, but we both got our share.”
Petros shook his head. “It’s all good. I’m guessing the journ—uh, the system calculates stuff individually.”
Jack slipped the coins back into his pouch, noticing Petros’s gaze drifting down to the boy’s own scuffed boots. “Better footwear than me, huh? I was practically dying out here, barefoot.”
Petros gave a small smile, revealing a bit of his shy nature. “Guess I got lucky with my class choice, too,” he said softly, patting his journal. “I, um, I picked a Healing class. It said something about, uh, you know—Spirit Warden or something like that, and… next thing I know, I was healing you.”
Jack snapped his fingers. “That’s what I figured! I saw that golden aura. It’s, like, the best skill for saving my butt. Thanks, by the way.”
A light blush crept into Petros’s cheeks, and he ducked his head in embarrassment. “You saved me first, with those lightning bolts and… that fire. I’ve never seen anything like that outside a video game. It’s… it’s incredible.”
For a moment, neither spoke, reflecting on how absurdly real the situation felt. The forest canopy rustled with a light breeze overhead, and the distant croaking of frogs near a stream reminded them they were not in any sterile VR environment.
“So,” Jack said, clearing his throat. “What’s the plan, kid? Think we should follow the road to wherever it leads—or try searching these woods for the others?”
Petros brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, brow furrowed. “Not sure. If there is one, the others might head for a settlement. Could be a village nearby, right?”
Jack nodded, recalling how roads in RPGs typically connected to towns. “Sounds solid. Let’s hit the main path to find a signpost or something. And if we run into trouble…” He waggled his fingers, feigning a mini lightning show. “…we’ve got some spells. Plus, your healing mojo.”
Petros smiled more earnestly this time. “Deal,” he said. “I, uh… I’m kind of nervous, but… you know, it’s better than going alone.”
Jack clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you stuck your neck out to heal me, right? That takes guts. I’d be proud to team up with someone like that. Let’s go find our people—my wife included.”
“Healing, you took… a lot out of me,” the boy admitted. “I think I… I exhausted my magic.”
He held up trembling hands, and golden sparks flickered across his palms before sputtering. He rubbed them against his pants with a frustrated frown and tried again. This time, the glow stayed for a couple of seconds longer—enough to make his entire face light with renewed confidence.
“Feels like my magic is refilling,” he said shyly. “It’s hard to describe—like an empty well is slowly filling back up.”
Jack eyed his fingers. With a mental nudge, he summoned a small arc of electricity that crackled between them. He let it grow for a moment, then snuffed it out.
“Guess, as an Elementalist, I have a bigger tank,” he joked, voice dripping with mock bravado.
The boy gawked, half-impressed and half-bemused.
“I think your power’s incredible,” he confessed. “You basically nuked those goblins in seconds.”
Jack chuckled, shaking his head.
“Nah, kid, yours is the cool power. Healing is way rarer if you ask me. But I guess the grass is always greener, right?” He paused. “Speaking of powers, what else can you do?”
At that, the boy’s eyes widened with excitement. He scrambled for the leather-bound journal dangling at his side and flipped through a few pages.
“I picked a healing class,” he explained, “but I also have one offensive spell, and this… guardian or familiar? It’s called ‘Spirit Guardian’ in my notes.”
“Dude, that is awesome.” Jack’s own eyes gleamed. “Let’s see it!”
Without another word, the kid snapped the journal shut and stood up. He motioned for Jack to step back once or twice until Jack was nearly ten paces away. Petros then clasped his hands, causing a blueish glow to radiate from his palms. Thin, circular discs of pale blue light formed around his wrists, each etched with faint runic symbols. Moments later, a larger rune circle shimmered on the ground between them.
From that circle rose a vague, humanoid shape of swirling blue mist. It coalesced and darted forward at inhuman speed, zipping around the road in wide arcs. After a quick circuit, it hovered near Petros as if to acknowledge its summoner, then spun abruptly and streaked straight for Jack.
“Whoa!” Jack yelped, stumbling backward onto the dirt. The spirit soared overhead, leaving a trail of goosebumps on his skin. “What the heck—?!”
The creature banked around a tree and made another beeline toward Jack. This time, Petros clapped his hands sharply, and the apparition vanished mere feet before it would have collided with him.
“Sorry!” Petros blurted, red-faced. “I-I didn’t know it would target you.”
But Jack answered with a loud whoop of excitement as he sprang to his feet.
“That… was… AWESOME!” he shouted, excitedly grabbing the boy by his forearms. “Kid, that’s insane! It flew around like a guided missile and gave me chills—literally!”
Petros’s worried expression melted into a grin, clearly relieved by Jack’s enthusiasm.
They took turns testing spells for the next several minutes: Jack conjured small sparks of lightning and flickers of fire while Petros practiced getting his golden healing aura to flare at will. Exhaustion built with each surge of magic until both collapsed onto the road’s edge, breathing heavily.
“We’re losing daylight,” Jack pointed out, noticing the sky had deepened into purple and orange. Soon, it would be too dark to travel safely. “We should make camp.”
A burnished orange glow settled over the forest, painting the treetops in gold and crimson. Realizing they had no lodging, they collected fallen branches and twisted brush from a nearby thicket, then arranged them into a rough firepit in a small clearing off the road.
Jack, wearing a cocky grin, set a hand over the kindling. “Guess I’ll practice my fire spell,” he said. With a subtle flick of his fingers, tiny embers danced across the wood. A crackling flame caught hold in moments, bathing them in welcome warmth.
Petros watched in awe, still struggling to accept how real everything felt—the night’s chill, the smell of smoke, and the lingering tingle of magic coursing through his body.
“I never thought I’d be able to do something like this,” Petros admitted, hugging his knees to his chest. “I’ve played many fantasy games, but it’s totally different experiencing it for real.”
Jack nodded, stretching out his legs. Despite his casual demeanor, the adrenaline of the day’s goblin fight still buzzed through him, and the novelty of conjuring lightning never got old. Yet beneath the bravado, an uncertain knot tightened in his stomach. He missed Asil and had no idea if she was safe.
“Yeah,” Jack said, voice low. “My wife’s probably flipping out. She’s the practical one—you know, the type who reads all the instructions in a game manual before hitting ‘start.’”
Petros gave a faint smile. “Sounds nice. It must be cool to have someone like that to share stuff with.”
They fell quiet momentarily; each lost in his thoughts as the flames danced between them. The sky darkened steadily, revealing a smattering of stars overhead.
After a few beats of companionable silence, Jack cleared his throat.
“So, kid—mind if I ask how you got into gaming? You said you weren’t the biggest fan, but you definitely handle that spellbook like a natural.”
Petros shrugged, looking down at his feet. “I-I guess I’ve always liked the idea of being a hero—doing something good. My older brother, Mike, he’s the real gamer. Me? I’d mostly watch him play. Sometimes, I’d sneak in a turn when he wasn’t around.”
He fiddled with a small twig, tossing it into the fire, where it hissed and popped.
“I’m kind of shy in real life,” he said, cheeks reddening. “In games, I can be anyone—like a wizard or a warrior, you know? So I guess this,” he waved a hand at the flickering flame, “is, like, my chance to do something that matters.”
Jack smiled. “Trust me, you’re braver than you think. Besides, I would’ve been toast if you hadn’t healed me. I owe you for that.”
Petros exhaled, a tremulous grin on his face. “It’s okay. You saved me first.”
They let the hush settle again, the crackle of the fire, and their only conversation for a few breaths.
“What about you?” Petros ventured, trying to hide the tremor of nerves in his voice. “How’d you get so… confident?”
Jack barked a short laugh, tossing another branch onto the flames. Sparks shot upward into the night. “I’ve always been like this, I guess—a loudmouth who thinks life’s one big game. When I was a teen, I got myself into trouble plenty of times, pissing off teachers and ignoring advice—I figured I’d just breeze through. But then I met Asil.”
He paused, letting a nostalgic smile tug at his lips.
“She grounded me in a good way. Showed me how to slow down and think. But hey, old habits die hard—especially when you’re stuck in a VR wonderland.”
Petros’s eyes flitted over the darkening woods. “You really think it’s VR?”
Jack shrugged nonchalantly, though the question unsettled him. “Sure. I mean… yeah, it’s gotta be.” He stared too long into the flames as if trying to convince himself.
A soft breeze rustled the trees around them. Night creatures chirped, adding a gentle chorus to the crackling wood. As the stars multiplied overhead, exhaustion tugged at their eyelids.
They soon ran out of small talk, each boyishly proud of his newfound powers yet anxious about the unknown. With no better options, they decided to bed down beside the warm glow of their campfire.
“I’ll keep an ear out,” Jack mumbled, folding his arms behind his head as he lay against a makeshift pillow of dried moss and leaves. “If any goblins come sniffing around, I’ll fry ‘em.”
Petros nodded, yawning. He nestled close to the fire, his journal tucked safely. “Thanks,” he said quietly, voice trailing off. “But maybe I can… heal you again if something goes wrong…”
“Deal,” Jack responded with a grin.
Seconds later, Petros’s breathing slowed into the soft rhythm of sleep. Jack stared at the sky, trying to make sense of the swirl of events—goblins, magical journals, actual wounds, and real healing. Despite his bravado, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him: Was this indeed just a game?
Eventually, fatigue claimed him. The warmth of the fire lulled him into a dreamless doze, and the flames burned down to smoldering embers under the silent constellations.