"Sign here, here, and there."

Mori's pen scratched across the paper. Her head ached like when she'd pulled all-nighters to study for exams. For the past two hours, Skye and another company employee had taken her through her legal rights and the agreement that she and her relations would not sue 6thSenS if things went wrong.

And from what she'd learned about Facing Fear, it'd be a miracle if nothing went wrong.

Mori blew on the paper to dry the ink, sealing the fact she'd signed her life away.

"Would you like for us to notify your parents?" Skye asked. "They'll need to agree to the terms of an NDA as you have."

"You mentioned a time discrepancy between the virtual world and this one." Mori tapped her manicured nails against the white table. "When you sent in subjects to test the ring, some returned in a matter of seconds even though they'd been instructed to stay in the game for set amounts of time. Hours. Days."

Skye nodded. "That is correct."

It's been years in the game then. Shiori could already have gotten herself killed by now. Mori expelled a long breath. "I love my parents, but we don't have the time for me to argue with them. Notify them after I've gone in, but wait a day. I might be back by then."

In answer, Skye's co-worker approached her seat with a device that looked alarmingly like a gun. "This will hurt a bit, but we have to install this chip on your neck. It will allow you access to the ring and cube by becoming part of your self-construct."

Mori hissed at the stab of pain in her neck behind her right ear, but the discomfort faded within a few minutes.

"You're very brave, Mori," Skye said while leading her to chamber where they'd hook her up to the game. She adjusted the angle of a chair with a lever on the side. "I hope you know how much we appreciate you agreeing to this."

"It's not bravery," Mori whispered. The headset visor lowered over her open eyes—an original, unmodified and unmonitored. FEAR rejected any new players with reconfigured headsets. "There are things in life that are unavoidable. The sun setting, falling asleep, dying. Some things can't be helped—you have to say goodnight."

Bravery didn't erase those fears. Mori knew that firsthand. Back when they were younger, before they moved to the United States, Shiori used to wake her up in the dead of night by crawling into her bedroll. The crickets chirped outside and Mori's outstretched hand brushed the mosquito netting surrounding her.

"Nee-chan, I'm scared," Shiori whispered, burying her face in Mori's neck. "I want my nightlight."

Mori could have repeated the words of her parents. The dark is nothing to be afraid of. You need to be braver, Shiori-chan. Instead, Mori rolled over and held her little sister's hand. "I'm here," she'd said. "Even though the night is here now too, the morning will come. Now say good night, Shiori-chan."

"Goodnight, Shiori-chan." Shiori had said with a giggle.

"Goodnight," Mori replied, and her sister had eventually fallen asleep holding her hand.

Shiori grew braver, bolder. But underneath the bravado, Mori knew her sister was still afraid of the dark. She couldn't kill Shiori's fears for her, but she could be there to hold her hand through it—to tell her little sister that the night was good in the dying light of the setting sun.

Mori settled into the chair and connected to the Facing Fear game. "I'm coming, Shiori," she said softly.

Virtual gamers called connection "diving" and Mori found she agreed. As the headset device hooked up to her brain and nervous system, a sensation like falling into a calm lake washed over her. But instead of being water all the way down, the world flipped and she found herself on the other side, completely dry.

"Welcome to Valor," a feminine automated voice greeted.

The sun hung high in the sky, spilling over a vast meadow like golden rain. Mori shielded her eyes. The devs had prepared her for the psychological challenges she would face, but now that Mori had entered, she wished they'd provided more practical advice, like where to find other players or use a weapon.

Around her, the grass had flattened in a strange symbol reminiscent of alien crop circles. The scent of wildflowers permeated the air like a heavy perfume, almost dazing her. This area is far too exposed. Colored bars hovered at the edge of her vision, expanding into full view whenever she focused on them.

"This is trippy," Mori muttered. "Is there a walkthrough?"

She tried to pull up a menu or settings by waving her hands, but only succeeded in startling a cluster of pale pink butterflies. If something attacked her right now, she'd be as helpless as a turtle on its back. Huffing in dismay, Mori glanced down at her attire—black cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt beneath a grey jacket with padded elbows. She paused. Wait. This looks like...

A low growl from behind raised the hairs of her neck. Mori whirled around, several emotions converging into single thought—

Rifle.

Pixels shimmered in the air and merged into a weapon which dropped into her waiting hands. She sighted on a bristling wolf with glowing red eyes and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit it in the eye, dead-center. The wolf howled and shattered into scarlet shards. Arms trembling, Mori stepped back as five more of its kind closed in.

I can't—I can't fight them all. In her side view, a golden bar dropped.

Her next shot hit another wolf in the shoulder but didn't take it down. Enraged and frothing at the mouth, the beast sprang at her.

Mori screamed at the monster's open jaws when a sword sliced through the wolf's neck, severing head from body. Blood splashed on her face before dissolving into a red haze that reeked of smoke and ash. She fell backward, staring in shock at the figure in front of her.

Her rescuer flicked back the hood of his billowing cloak. His sword glinted in the sunlight and a shield appeared from beneath the folds of his outer clothing in the grip of his offhand. "Well, boys." He grinned at the wolves, baring his teeth like theirs. "Looks like you've howled at your last moon."

The man charged with a battle cry, protecting his legs from the wolves' snapping fangs. His sword flashed like lightning as it struck, silver and dangerous. Only after the last wolf screamed and splintered apart did Mori realize she hadn't helped at all.

She stumbled to her feet, heart pounding with adrenaline—adrenaline she hadn't used for either fight or flight after that first lucky shot. Who was she kidding? Even with her old SniperX avatar's outfit and the functional rifle in her hands, this felt more like cosplay than the real deal.

Her knight in a royal blue cloak walked over, the shield disappearing from his hand. "FEAR really could appoint better welcoming committees for the noobs." Raking one hand through sweaty, coal-black hair, he offered her the other. "Sniper mega-fan, eh? Even got the avatar to look like the old legend himself. Though the username's a bit morbid for this place."

Mori hugged her rifle. "What? I mean—thank you, but I—" Oh. In her gaming days, there had been a rumor that MementoMori was a guy playing with a female avatar, because no girl could ever rank number two on the global leaderboard. She hadn't minded then, but this player recognizing her old tag caught her off-guard. For all the world knew, MementoMori died in his sleep in real life and disappeared from SniperX history.

Mori didn't realize she'd zoned out until her rescuer retracted his hand—which she'd left him holding out for far too long. He brushed past her.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out, turning and ready to run after him. Instead, she slammed into his hard back.

He didn't even budge as he stared at the circle in the grass. "Hmm."

Mori wondered if the circle could open a hole in the ground to swallow her. Wishing she knew how to put away the cumbersome rifle, she shifted on her feet and waited for the blue-cloaked man to break the silence.

He took too long.

"What's your name?" Mori blurted out.

"Ronin is my username. To view tags, look at the target and think the word 'Identify'. You have weird stats for a Fearless," he said without missing a beat or shifting his gaze from the grass.

Mori floundered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. "What do you mean Fearless?"

Ronin stroked his chin with his hand. "How does a Fearless have god-like accuracy but nonexistent strength...?" he muttered. At first, Mori thought her eyes deceived her, but the royal blue of the other player's cloak deepened until the shade matched his hair. Finally, he turned toward her. "Did you say something?"

The intensity of his dark eyes sent chills racing across her skin. Without thinking, Mori reached to her neck and found her coin in its spot. "I was wondering what you mean by Fearless?"

After a last lingering look at the symbol in the grass, Ronin started walking. "The Fearless are the second wave of players to enter Valor—the ones who chose to come instead of being trapped here against their will."

Mori jogged to keep up with him, her movement hampered by the heavy weapon still in her hands. "You said something about strength. How strong are the Fearless supposed to be?"

"Usually four stars or higher," Ronin replied. A piece of bread materialized in his hand, out of which he ripped a huge chunk with his teeth. "If they have three, it's often balanced out by high agility or speed." He glanced back and waited for her to catch up. "Not really the case here."

"Are you one of the Fearless too?" Mori asked. The stars didn't make sense, but her rescuer probably thought her ignorant enough without voicing that question.

Ronin laughed. "No. They only started arriving in the past few months and I've met them all. Me? I've been here since the beginning." He stepped closer and tapped her rifle stock. "A good gun. Athena rifle—has the second to highest stat ceiling in the game. You can put it away. I promise I'm not going to attack you."

If the second wave has been coming for months now and Shiori entered the game at the starting launch... Above their heads, clouds moved in and brought with them the rumbles of an impending storm.

"How long have you been here, Ronin?" Mori's grip tightened until the gun's metal angles pressed indentations into her palms. Please tell me I'm not too late.

He looked from the sky to her, his gaze sober. "I've been here 791 days."

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Chapter Word Count: 1785
Total Word Count: 6303