Wednesday, August 27th, 2042, Capitol Hill, Seattle, Washington.

  The sound of the little air conditioner worked overtime to keep the air dry was barely enough to drown out the rain tapping relentlessly against the window.

  The unit sat in the corner of a cramped, worn-down apartment.

  Martin-Ethan Archer—M-E to most, but Emmy to herself—sat in her chair, her eyes closed, trying to let the soothing sound of rain calm her mind.

  It had been a long day at work, and she had just disconnected from the FullDive rig only a few minutes ago.

  On a small, auxiliary monitor, the text “A Realm Reforged Again installation complete” blinked, its soft glow the only source of light in the room.

  But her thoughts were not on the game.

  Not yet.

  Instead, they drifted back to a different time, a different life—a life she used to have with Claire. Claire, the mother of her children, and her ex-wife.

  Her thoughts settled on the argument that had finally broken them apart.

  “How can you be so selfish?” Claire’s voice had cracked like a whip, sharp and unforgiving, filling every inch of the kitchen. Her face had been a thundercloud of righteous anger; her hands quivering, betraying the intensity of her emotion.

  Emmy’s vision had blurred with unshed tears as she had barely mustered the strength to look her in the face, heart pounding in her chest.

  “Selfish?” she had asked, her throat tight and her body locked up. “How am I…?—”

  “Don’t even try to turn this around on me,” Claire had said, cutting her off, slamming her hand down on the counter.

  “I’m holding this marriage together! You just check out!”

  “I haven’t checked out,” Emmy had said weakly.

  But even she had not believed in her own response—Emmy had known very well how distant she had grown.

  Over the years, a subtle shift had occurred; she had gradually stopped trying, caring, and a sense of apathy had washed over her.

  Claire’s eyes had scanned her, cold and piercing. “I’m here, fighting for us, for our family. And you?” Claire’s gaze had hardened, the weight of her next words pressing into the silence. “I don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore.”

  That question, asked so quietly yet with so much weight, had hung between them, suffocating. Emmy had wanted to say something—anything—but the truth she had held inside felt too dangerous to release.

  She had wanted to scream, wanted to explain why she felt so absent, so lost in her own skin, but how could she?

  How could she ever tell Claire the real reason she had felt like a ghost in her own life?

  “I can’t be the only one trying,” Claire had said, her voice breaking just slightly, though the anger had simmered still. “I’m holding everything together for us, for the kids... and you just stand there. Emotionally absent.”

  Emmy had swallowed hard, her fists clenched tight at her sides.

  I don’t know how to tell you...

  The silence had stretched, a chasm between them, and it was Claire who spoke again, softer now, almost broken. “I need a partner. Not a stranger.”

  That had been when Emmy realized she had to say something—Anything—even if she could not say everything. She had to say something.

  “I... I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

  Claire’s face had twisted in disbelief. “What?”

  Emmy’s voice had been shaking as the truth tried to fight its way out. “I tried... I’m not the one for you. I’ve been—”

  “Don’t.” Claire’s voice had risen again, sharp with anger. “Don’t even try that. ‘It’s not you, it’s me?’. Really?”

  Emmy had looked away, unable to meet Claire’s eyes. She had not been able to tell her even a small part of the truth. The truth about the lie she had been living with every day. The version of herself that she had been too afraid to let out.

  “It’s not working anymore, Claire. I just need to go.”

  “That’s it?” Claire had scoffed, stepping closer, arms crossed in disbelief. “After everything, you’re just going to walk away? Just like that? No explanation, no fight?”

  Emmy’s heart had pounded in her chest. She had felt Claire’s eyes on her and felt the truth burning on the tip of her tongue, but she had not been able to do it. She had never told Claire the true reason why.

  “We’ve been fighting for months. What’s left to say?”

  “What’s left to say?!” Claire had shaken her head, her voice dripping with anger. “What’s wrong with you, Martin? I don’t even recognise you anymore.”

  Emmy had winced at the name. Every time, it had cut just as deep, but she had swallowed the pain. How could Claire understand when Emmy had always held everything inside? Emmy had never told a soul. Not even her best friend knew. That was a secret she had carried on her own.

  “Go then.” Claire turned around, spitting the words, her voice like ice.

  “But don’t come crying to me when you realise you’ve thrown everything away for nothing.”

  Emmy had known nothing she could have done would have mended their relationship.

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  After all, she had seen it. Claire had long since picked a side, a choice shaped by the prolonged and escalating influence of anti-transgender organizations.

  She had heard all of their talking points parroted into their conversations.

  “They’re going against God’s plan.”

  The nerve to think they knew God’s plan.

  “Can’t they be happy the way they were born?”

  That’s like telling a depressed person to just cheer up.

  “We have to think of Maya and Ewan and protect them from those predators.”

  Stats prove trans folks are the victims, not the ones committing crimes.

  Emmy had never confronted Claire about her views

  Because if she had? It had terrified her how Claire could have figured out her truth that way.

  Given Claire’s unambiguous stance, Emmy knew attempts to change her mind would be a massive waste of time.

  So how could she ever tell her who she truly was?

  The memory still stung, even now. Sitting in her cramped apartment, alone, Emmy could still hear Claire’s voice in her head, still feel the weight of her icy stare.

  “You’ve thrown everything away for nothing.”

  The words echoed in her mind. Emmy had often wondered if Claire was right. If she had made the wrong choice. The tiny apartment—barely large enough for her rig, a bed, and a kitchenette—felt like a far cry from the life she had built with Claire and their kids.

  Thirty-eight years old. A brilliant career in IT.

  And this tiny place?

  All she could afford.

  It felt like the first apartment of a young adult fleeing their parent’s home at the first chance of independence.

  It was as though she had regressed two decades.

  But even if the choice had been painful, even if it had cost her more than she could have imagined, she knew she could not have stayed with Claire.

  Not like that. Not while living a lie.

  Emmy opened her eyes, the rain still tapping softly at the window. The blinking message on the monitor pulled her back to the present.

  The game’s installation was complete. She had high expectations for it.

  A much-needed distraction, an escape from the limbo that was her life.

  She had played the original. No. Not merely played. Mastered.

  This was a remake of something she first played when she was nine years old.

  Mia and Dan Archer, her parents, ran themselves ragged trying to keep a CrossFit gym afloat. They paid the monthly subscription of the MMORPG to keep her, their eldest children, occupied.

  Because they were so busy, Emmy often had to take care of her four-year-old brother, Sam. Whenever he needed anything, she would drop what she was doing in-game without complaining.

  The subscription doubled as payment for babysitting.

  And she had milked that subscription for all it was worth.

  The blinking small monitor shone just enough light to reveal the peeling wallpaper and mismatched furniture. It made her miss their house in Broadmoor, only a few miles away.

  Claire still lived there with Maya and Ewan, their children. Together, they continued the life they had built together.

  To Emmy, it felt grossly unfair that Claire had gotten to keep everything—the house, the children, plus a sizeable chunk of her hard-earned salary.

  However, she had reconciled herself to the outcome in advance. Going against her wife, Emmy’s divorce settlement suffered because of Claire’s legal expertise.

  Emmy leaned back in her chair, slowly opening her eyes, one hand covering half her face.

  She stared at the cracked ceiling above her.

  The divorce had hit harder than she had expected.

  Though she had believed herself ready, the stark reality of her loneliness and loss hung heavy in the air, a persistent, dull throb in her chest.

  Despite everything, the soft, almost hypnotic pitter-patter of rain against the glass calmed her, washing away her worries.

  Since their breakup, Emmy had relied on distractions to soothe her racing thoughts and help her fall asleep.

  Otherwise, her hyperactive brain, buzzing with activity, would not allow her any rest. Insomnia was a lifelong acquaintance at this point. Their nearly intimate relationship was a burden, a weight on her chest, one she wished she could relinquish, but it stubbornly clung to her.

  Her phone buzzed, pulling her from the memories swirling in her mind. She glanced at it, trying to guess who was messaging her as she fumbled with the controls.

  On the lock screen, she could see it was a message from Jason, her best friend since high school. Likely an update about tonight’s plans.

  And knowing Jason? Possibly bad news.

  Her phone buzzed again. This time, she picked it up.

  “Hey M-E, sorry I’ll be late—just finished the parent-teacher meeting, and I’m not even home yet. I’ll be late, but you want to stick to our plan tonight, anyway?”

  Called it.

  Jason was a middle-school teacher—introverted, reserved, and content to stay in the background most of the time. He had been Emmy’s best friend since high school, and although he was not much of a gamer, she had convinced him to try this one with her.

  When they gamed together, Jason followed her lead, and Emmy did not mind.

  She actually liked that about him—his quiet presence. He demanded nothing from her, never questioned her choices.

  It made things easier, especially now when her own life felt so out of control.

  Jason let her take the lead, and she needed that—someone she did not have to explain herself to.

  Maybe that was why they worked so well together?

  There was something comfortable about how they both kept certain things unspoken, like neither of them needed to dig too deep into things that did not feel quite right.

  Jason always deferred to her in games, never making his wishes heard.

  Emmy could not explain it, but sometimes she wondered if there was more to it than just his laid-back nature.

  He was always so willing to go along with whatever anyone suggested, and he never seemed to mind when he was the one who sacrificed the most for the sake of the group.

  With a puff of air and a slump of her shoulders, she released a sigh of disappointment, annoyed at the setback.

  Her thoughts went back to the game.

  Emmy was both a former raid-leader and genre-savvy gamer. She had devoured every bit of information and speculation available online on this new release.

  She could probably talk anyone’s head off just about class balance, given the chance, and she did not limit her knowledge to mechanical elements—lore, crafting, gathering—if there was a wiki article or video guide about it, she had seen, read, or heard it. More than once, probably.

  She smiled, thinking about how freeing it will be.

  At least in the game, she would not have to be Martin.

  She would not have to be the person everyone expected her to be. Not anymore.

  The developers promised they had solved the biggest problem of VR spaces for people like her: being forced to be reminded of what your body looks like when you dive.

  For those like her, following the introduction of VR technology, video games have ceased to be an effective means of escapism.

  As usual, technology had changed on everyone, and for the lucky ninety per cent, it was great.

  For the remaining ten? People like her?

  “We regret the loss of your business, but consider it an acceptable sacrifice.”

  Emmy typed her response to Jason, her fingers flashing over the screen.

  “Yeah, no worries. I’ll go through character creation first and guide you through it when you get home?”

  Part of her had wanted to share that deeply personal moment with her best friend.

  But creating her ideal self, a female avatar, with him looming over her shoulder?

  Perhaps it was for the best this way. Once he logged in, it would already be over. Fait accompli.

  As she set her phone down, her gaze lingered on the flickering monitor.

  For the first time in years, she would not have to be Martin in a game.

  She could finally be Emmy, the version of herself that she hid from everyone. A small smile crept onto her face.

  The world outside might still see Martin-Ethan Archer, but in this world, at least for a little while, she could live as her true self.

  Her FullDive VR was a stark contrast to the rest of the furniture in her cramped apartment. It was worth about the same as a luxury car. She had needed one for work, but the company could have provided one. Their standard rig would be serviceable, yes.

  But this one? Her baby?

  She had poured so much money and care into every minor component. And since the divorce?

  Before, this device had been important to her. Now, it was her whole life.

  With a deep breath, Emmy slipped the neural headset over her head and leaned back in her chair, feeling the cool plastic against her skin. Her heart pounded with a mix of anticipation and fear.

  This was it—the moment she had been waiting for.

  She pressed the power button, and the world around her dissolved into darkness.