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eyes.

“Alex, you know how highly we at Snowstorm value gameplay. We know what you’ve been through…” I heard sympathy in her voice. “You’ve become an outcast. Your time in the Nether…”

“Hold on! Did you say the Nether? You confirm that it exists, then?”

“The Nether?” Chloe asked, her eyes wide and face blank. “What do you mean, Alex? Oh, you mean the mythical game zone? But it’s inaccessible to players! I meant it metaphorically, the abyssal situation you found yourself in…”

Sure. She knew, but there was no way she was going to admit it. I’d already guessed what she wanted.

“What’s this conversation about, Miss Cliffhanger?”

“You don’t beat around the bush…” Chloe said thoughtfully. Sitting back on the sofa, she looked at me again with fresh eyes. “Alright, I’ll be straight with you. Your victory in the games would not be good for us. Nor for anybody else. What would the people say? Even now, they call you a cheater. All the contestants have signed a petition to get you banned…”

“I know.”

“Then you must know what awaits you. My superiors will reward you generously for your loyalty. Alex, you’re about to meet with the journalists and make a statement.”

“A statement?”

“You’ll say that you changed your mind, that you’re resigning from the Demonic Games. We’ll make a show of trying to convince you to stay, but you’ll refuse. A mutual acquaintance of ours asked me to convey to you that you will get what was promised if you do this… And what you said you would do before.”

“Kiran?”

She remained silent, only half-closing her eyes for an instant. I got the picture — that lying son of a bitch wouldn’t lift a finger to do what he promised. So they want to play, huh? Alright, let’s play!

“I agree,” I said.

Chloe sighed in relief and smiled widely.

“Attaboy! My man! Good decision! Best for everyone!” She brought her comm to her lips. “Kerry, we’re done here!”

The assistant led me to the press center. Cliffhanger gave her instructions alone, but I figured out what they were later.

It was loud in the press center corridor. A multitude of reporters all rushed toward us to ask me questions, but Kerry blocked their path. She raised her hands:

“Mr. Sheppard will not be answering any questions before his official statement! Everybody please move to the press conference hall!”

The other contestants watched me, frowning after instantly losing all the reporters’ attention when I walked in. Camera drones swarmed around like a cloud of midges, getting shots of me from all angles. Kerry walked along with her head raised proudly; a little of the fame of the class-A Threat bounced off me onto her. The whole world was watching us.

The woman led me to a conference table with microphones, sat me down and disappeared behind me.

The hall was filled to the brim with hundreds of journalists, buzzing, crowding by the door, rattling chairs as they sat down. The contestants were there too, pressed against the back wall. The chairs next to me were empty.

A tired young woman in a Snowstorm t-shirt was seating the journalists. She held a microphone:

“Mr. Katz, Disgardium Daily, your seat is there!” She lit up the second row. Mr. Katz asked something and the woman answered: “No, the first row is for accredited streamers. Yes, yours are on the list too! No! I will not change the seating…”

Looking around, I foresaw the spectacle that set to unfold. Holographic labels over the chairs showed all the speakers of the conference: Chloe Cliffhanger, Alex Sheppard, Kiran Jackson. It all became clear as day. They had counted on me failing at the Ordeal, but just in case, they had a plan B: Sheppard would resign from the contest, lose his chance to get Concentrated Life Essence and accept Kiran’s offer, which required him to destroy the Sleeping temples and delete his character. Dis would lose its Threat, and the Sleepers their Initial. Everybody would be happy except Behemoth and a few hundred non-citizens.

Two people emerging from the crowd caught my eye: Malik and Tissa. My heart quickened and I waved to them:

“Malik, Tissa, over here!”

Without looking at me, they walked past the journalists, stood before them with their back to me and raised their hands, calling for attention.

“We have an announcement to make!” my friends shouted.

“Excuse me, please go back to…” the woman organizing the journalists began, but Tissa grabbed her microphone and interrupted her:

“Hi! I’m Melissa Schafer, a.k.a. Tissa. My friend and I have an announcement!”

Malik stood next to her and leaned into the microphone:

“I’m Malik Abdualim. Infect.”

“We’re from Sheppard’s clan. From the Awoken,” Tissa said.

There was jeering, whistling. The noise rose and Malik raised his voice:

“We officially declare that we are leaving the Awoken! We understand what we might be risking; after all, the Threat might not let us go! But in that case we swear that we will harm the clan until Scyth frees us!”

“We want nothing to do with Sheppard!” Tissa shouted.

It was as if a taut string in my soul had suddenly snapped. What were they saying? What was going on?

The noise of the onlookers began to subside, but the journalists all shot to their feet. Questions rained down from all sides.

“We’ve suffered Sheppard’s arrogance for too long,” Malik said, his voice ringing. “We’ve had enough!”

“Alex Sheppard is a fame-blind piece of shit!” Tissa shouted. “From now on, please remember that we have nothing to do with him! We hate him! He’s our enemy!”

“And…” Malik laughed, turning to me. “Melissa and I are together now!”

My former friend embraced Tissa and kissed her on the lips. The kiss was long, and the hall erupted in laughing approval. A spatter of applause turned into a thundering ovation. The crowd started chanting:

“Class-A Threat, class-A loser!” It sounded

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