"Augustus Marinus? Fifty? Fifty-five years ago, I think? I remember him. Good kid. Quiet. Smart. When he graduated we worked at the same school for a few years before I came to this one."

  "Anything that stands out to you from his time as a student?"

  "Not particularly. I've been a teacher for a few centuries now and it's hard to be surprised these days."

  "Nothing? No fights? No trouble?"

  "No. Very well behaved. I remember being relieved because another kid in that class was a right menace. Having a student you can trust really helps. In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, in the entire two years I had him, I think I only had to pull him aside once."

  "What for?"

  "He'd pushed a boy, and he fell. Started crying. I talked to Augustus, and it didn't happen again. Like I said, good kid."

  "Did this child have issues with Augustus?"

  "Not that I am aware of. You know how kids are when they're that young. One day they're fighting the next they're best friends. And Augustus didn't really have issues with people. Got along with everyone, which is why I remember that incident since it was so out of character."

  "In what way?"

  "Well, I asked him why he did it. Why'd he push that boy? He told me: 'I saw someone fall yesterday. They cried. I needed to try it.'"

  "That's... interesting."

  "Isn't it? Heh. It makes him sound a bit weird but when you're in my job you see kids do way worse for way less reasons. That's why we’re there. To teach them right from wrong. So, I told him what he did was wrong and he should apologize. He nodded, did so, and even brought a snack for the boy the next day and all was forgiven. Like I said, he was a good kid... You're not going to try and paint him bad, right?"

  "Oh no. I just want the truth. I have no interest in spinning the Story one way or the other."

  "Good. He doesn't deserve that kind of trouble. Not after everything."

  -The Man Inside The Beast, Second Edition, P.161

  ******

  Knock knock knock.

  Neron opened his eyes at the quick rap of knuckles on the door.

  "I got it," Shejou said, finishing lacing up her boots as Neron sat up.

  The small window let enough of the morning sun into their cramped room that he had no trouble seeing that she was already mostly dressed for the day.

  Knock knock-

  "Yes?" Shejou asked, the visitor hidden from Neron's sight by the door. "Can we help you?"

  "I'm sorry if I woke you up," Medea's voice was loud enough that he heard, despite the effort both women were putting to remain circumspect with their volume. "I am looking for Neron? He gave me this room number."

  "Ah!" Neron almost rolled his eyes as he pulled his pants from where they were hanging from Shejou’s spear. He could easily imagine his roommates' eyes lighting up in excitement. "He's getting up. I'm Shejou. You must be Medea. He said you might show up."

  His shirt had made it further and he walked behind his roommate, waving good morning to Medea as he did so.

  "I am. It is a pleasure to meet you Shejou. Thank you for taking care of him."

  "I should be thanking you," Shejou laughed. "I taught my husbands that trick of his, the one with his knuckle? There's no way he learned that without help."

  Neron almost smiled as he imagined Medea's uncomfortable expression at Shejou's bluntness.

  This was one aspect of their relationship where he'd be the teacher, not her.

  Not that she wanted that kind of lesson.

  "...We're just friends." Neron almost smiled again as he laced his shoes at the heartbeat it took for her to respond.

  "Really?" Shejou sounded genuinely perplexed. "You should give him a try. He's a bit young, sure, but that has its own charm. If you want to use the room, go ahead."

  Neron, dressed and ready to go, seriously debated remaining hidden behind the door. His former teacher wasn't prepared to deal with someone like Shejou. She moved at her own pace, with no respect for propriety, privacy, or any sort of personal boundaries.

  Medea, in contrast, was the type who maintained basic courtesies with everyone, even colleagues. She was not fond of the niceties of higher society, but she still held a professional’s view on interpersonal relationships outside of private areas. Neron was one of the few exceptions, and only because he'd known her for decades.

  "I... think I'll pass."

  "Alright," Shejou accepted the refusal with an easy nod.

  Seeing he wasn't going to get more entertainment out of this, Neron laid Shejou's sheathed sword across her shoulder.

  "I left the rent by the bedside," he told her, releasing his hold as she grabbed the handle.

  "Thanks," Shejou gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and squeezed past Medea. "It was nice meeting you. We should talk sometime. You can treat us to dinner. Tomorrow good? Great! See you then."

  Then she was gone, sword in hand, down the hall of the rental dorms.

  Neron took no small amount of pleasure in seeing the befuddled look in Medea's eyes as he closed the door and locked it.

  She didn't remain that way for long.

  "I thought the Japanese were supposed to be reserved," she eventually sighed out.

  "You could tell her ethnicity?" Neron asked, then shook his head. "Knowledge, right."

  "Her name structure fits that language model, her lips formed the proper phonemes, and she has enough east Asiatic traits that she's probably a native speaker," Medea explained, following Neron down the hall and down the stairs of the dorm. "It can't create something out of nothing though. I don't have enough information to determine if she's simply a descendant or a native to the ships or the islands."

  "She lives on the ships," Neron answered, sensing the curiosity behind the statement.

  "And she's like that!?" Medea asked in disbelief. "Either I've missed a cultural shift in the last half-century, or their information isolation is a lot better than I thought."

  "No, that is just how Shejou is. Her husbands are also Japanese, and they are closer to what you would expect." Realizing he should caveat that, he continued. "I only talked to them once though, so I can not say for sure. One is not playing, the other is in Leidon and the third is somewhere in the southeast."

  "...I thought you didn't go after wives anymore," Medea said, a note of chastisement in her voice as they emerged onto the street. They were already busy, despite the early hours and the pair needed to step back into the doorway to avoid a… minotaur? Or bovine therianthrop of some sort as it squeezed past with a small ‘Excuse me.’ "'Too much drama,' you said."

  "I do not help people cheat," Neron corrected with a shrug. "Not since that mess with Pophene in senior year. Usually, that means not being involved at all. But if it is consensual then I do not see a reason why not. It is just sex."

  "Then why'd you turn down the Ternbaums?"

  "Because Leip wanted to participate," Neron explained easily. She wouldn't appreciate the details of exactly how her coworker wanted to participate. "I am not against swingers, but some aspects are not for me. I like what I like and there is no reason to force myself just for sex."

  Medea looked like she wanted to argue but held back. Neron also didn't press the old argument.

  They both knew the other's stance and rehashing it for a hundredth time wouldn't change either of their minds.

  "How come you are here so early," Neron asked instead.

  "I have back-to-back lessons, meetings and lectures," she told him. "This morning is the only free time I have for the next two weeks, so I thought I'd take you out to breakfast. You haven't tried high class food here, right?"

  "No?" Neron asked with a raised brow. Shejou would be disappointed that her plans for dinner would be postponed. He’d make it up to her. "Why?"

  Medea just grinned mischievously. This wasn't her 'figure it out yourself' smile but instead her 'I'm going to see something funny' smile.

  With a mental note to remain wary, Neron asked a question that he hadn't found much information on.

  "Let me pick your brain a bit."

  "Go ahead."

  "Natures," he started. "What and why?"

  "Frankly, we don't have much to go on, since they've only existed since players have been around," Medea started, understanding what he was getting at. "They also resist any sort of systematic study, due to each being absolutely unique."

  "I found plenty of public Natures. That guild, Tengen, publicizes all their members’ Natures" Neron pointed out. "'Warrior.' 'Mage.' 'Archer.' Those three are supposed to be the most balanced, right?"

  "Eh," Medea waved her hand in a so-and-so gesture. "Those are the most common and tested Natures. It was a fad in the early years to post one's Nature to explain why it was the 'best'. Nowadays those public natures are mostly for beginners who only have a vague idea of how they want to play. Most will create new characters after getting a feel for the game. Yes, they're the most 'balanced' of the combat natures people have found, but that only really matters at the start. Once you get to level one hundred, two 'Warriors' can be very different. By two hundred you might not even be able to tell they both started with the same Nature."

  "So, even though you're a 'Witch' you are different from every other 'Witch?'"

  "Yes, but not- Excuse us." Medea interrupted herself as she pulled Neron out of the way of a patrol of four guards. The pair received nods of thanks and acknowledgement as the four men and women in armor passed them by.

  Neron watched them pass, his eyes drawn to the figure in the center in particular. Once they were out of earshot he shot a look at Medea.

  "I did not know therianthropes could get so distinct."

  "Theoretically they can have traits from any animal," Medea shrugged. "Not my first time seeing a giraffe, though the long neck or legs are usually more of a hindrance than a help. A 'Soldier' Nature or something like it, if I had to guess."

  "That was a player?" Neron couldn't imagine how disorienting it must be to go from one's usual body to a woman with a meter long neck and a dozen eyes around one's skull. "Body dysphoria would cause issues, would it not?"

  "Depends on the person. The game prevents actions that would lead to that sort of psychological issue, to a degree. That was a good example of what I meant by difference in Natures," Medea nodded as they resumed their way through the busy streets. "'Soldier' is a popular generic Nature for those you like the idea of the military lifestyle. It mainly focuses on group work and discipline, instead of individual combat like 'Warrior,' but there's plenty of customization options. Militia, guard, army, general forces and so on. Even within each path, you can use a variety of weapons or skills. That giraffe was probably a magic focused guard, got their hands on that Crown of Eyes and decided to change their race to maximize their field of vision."

  "So, you are a 'Witch,' but because you chose to focus on Knowledge you are going to be different from a 'Witch' that focuses on creating potions."

  "Yes, but don't rely on the names of Natures. It's the description that matters most. I could have named mine something like 'Snugglemuffin' but kept the description the same and I'd be ninety-nine percent the same today. That's just when you start. What actions you take after that are what truly matter. A 'Soldier' can act like a 'Warrior' and will be closer to one by level two hundred than an actual 'Soldier,' they just won't enjoy the bonus from having an aligned Nature."

  "'Snugglemuffin?'" Neron quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

  "First absurd word that popped into my head," Medea smiled wryly, leading them to a restaurant and opening the door for him. "Anyway, regarding Natures, since there is still so much we don't know about them, just think of the description as the canvas and your actions as the ink. The canvas gives it shape and texture, but you need to decide what to paint."

  "Welcome," the Ma?tre D greeted them as they stepped in. Neron noticed his eyes roving them briefly, but he kept his face welcoming, so if he got anything out of it, Neron couldn't tell. The fact it had a greeter at all was a bit more than he expected this far from the inner wall. "Does the Lady have a reservation this morning?"

  "For two in the sunroom. Under Medea."

  "Of course, Lady Medea. Would you please follow me?"

  Neron kept his eyes forward, not letting his gaze wander like a bumpkin, though he noted the decor was tasteful... he thought. He didn't have much grounding in the fashion or luxury in this world so he couldn't tell if this was an overt display of opulence or simply a common sight.

  It wasn't anywhere close in size to modern buildings, but it also wasn't as cramped as most places in a feudalistic time period, even the most luxurious. Perhaps magic had shifted architectural designs? As Neron was pondering the possibilities magic would have on construction material, support structures, and design layout, they were led up two flights of stairs to a dining hall on the roof.

  Right away it was clear why an establishment of this distinction was here, far from the inner city and its wealth. This place was built at, or near, the apex of one of the hills that made up Calderine and that gave it a unique draw. The dining room was wrapped in a glass dome that commanded a magnificent view of the surrounding city. The recently risen sun had already increased the temperature in the room such that the contrast between it and the chill of an autumn morning was jarring.

  It wasn't fully occupied, being relatively early in the morning, but nor was it devoid of other diners. Despite seeing many lips moving out of the corner of his eyes, Neron couldn't hear anything. Not even the clinking of silverware.

  "Here we are. Shall I alert your waiter to bring drinks when he arrives?"

  "A pot of tea, please," Medea said as they took their seat at one of the tables along the glass wall. Neron noted the comings and goings of people below them as the streets started to fill.

  "Any preference?"

  "Anything purple?"

  "We have Leidon's most recent harvest of Eclipse."

  "That sounds wonderful."

  With a formal bow, the suited man stepped away and down the stairs.

  "I have to deal with nobility a lot," Medea explained in exasperation as Neron quirked a brow. "Imitating the local manners is the easiest way to deal with them."

  "I did not say anything," he chuckled lightly. He wasn't judging. One of the first things he'd done when he started in Calderine was to get a basic grasp of the custom and culture. It had enough of a similarity to pre-revolution France that he had learned enough to get by before turning to other subjects of greater interest.

  Despite his reassurance, Medea narrowed her eyes, and he let the smile drop. She nodded in thanks.

  "Just because I have to do it, doesn't mean I like it. Or that you should pull that shit with me."

  Neron let his surprise show at hearing her casually swear like that. Not that she didn't do so frequently, just that she never did in public or when others were around. Even if she didn’t like formalities beyond the basic niceties of day to day life, she still had an image to uphold as a teacher most of the time.

  "Privacy enchantments on the tables," Medea said, already guessing his question. "Standard in most establishments where a meal is measured in gold, rather than silver or copper. Only those within three feet of the table can hear what happens inside."

  "Convenient," Neron had guessed something like that by the silence of the room but it really put into perspective how commonplace magic was in this world. "Is this building also enchanted? It looks like it's made of wood, but this layout is not the sturdiest."

  Neron wasn’t an architect by any measure, but his studies did branch into that field frequently enough to get a basic grasp of structural integrity. Buildings were often the part of a culture that survived the longest, after all.

  "Only to the most minor degree," Medea shook her head with a smile. "Enchantment has some rules similar to the Square-Cube Law. It would be cost prohibitive to enchant something so large with anything extensive and this is one of only a dozen buildings out of the inner city to have them. Now those are impressive and if you get the chance you should check them out. Or the Bastillion. Here, even with prices, it is small stuff. Pest and rodent repellent. Minor structural reinforcement. Some lighting. And that is only because this is Calderine, which specializes in enchantment and its materials. What they do in places like this is use workarounds. The 'wood' you're seeing..."

  Neron listened as his former teacher explained more about the world, asking questions as they came up, and categorizing the information for future use.

  There was a brief pause when the waiter arrived with the tea, but Neron simply let Medea order for him, not knowing what was good here. From there, the conversation shifted from enchantment to the natives' Job system.

  They were just discussing the existence of such a system and its implications for the almost universal literacy rate of God's Nature's natives when a young man stepped just outside the sound isolation barrier. His friend, catching sight of him, waved him in with a smile a touch to formal to be real and he stepped through.

  "Lady Medea," he greeted her politely with a warm smile and a formal nod of his head, keeping his back straight. "A joy to see you this morning."

  "Cavon," Medea greeted in turn, standing to welcome him.

  Normally, Neron would say she didn't bow or curtsy or anything of the like because of either unwillingness to use such manners or the lack of knowledge of them. Considering her almost omniscient use of the Knowledge stat, the latter was impossible. And that she had acknowledged him at all instead of remaining seated meant that the former was also unlikely. Which left...

  "Allow me to introduce you two." She gestured between Neron, who'd also risen to his feet, and the young man. "Neron, this is Viscount Cavon Hardinee. He's been a regular in my lectures. Cavon, this Neron Kaisar. He's a fellow player that has recently arrived."

  "A pleasure," the local noble greeted. He did not bow his head, but his tone wasn't unfriendly.

  "The pleasure is all mine," Neron denied, his smile warm. He imitated the bow from before but made sure to do it slightly incorrectly. Cavon's face didn't twitch from its warm welcome. "You will have to pardon my lack of manners as I have not had time to study the local etiquette."

  "There is nothing to pardon," Cavon waved him off genially, his smile a bit more genuine. "I understand Players such as yourself are unfamiliar with how we do things. That you are willing to learn at all speaks of your character. Though perhaps I should not be surprised considering Lady Medea would not be dining with a boor."

  "I am, unfortunately, quite boorish," Neron shrugged helplessly, gesturing down to his clothes. They were the same sturdy but plain clothes all players started with. A copy of the resurrection clothes but wouldn’t melt off his body in a week. They were clean, thankfully, but simple. "You have caught us at a most unflattering time. I have just arrived and have but the clothes on my back. Certainly, I was unprepared when Medea invited me to dine so early in such an establishment."

  Would he take the bait? Neron gave it even odds. The translation to the local language wouldn’t be exact, but it should carry his words and their intent properly.

  "It is no shame to be at the start of one's journey," Cavon, once again, waved off his self-depreciation. "Indeed, I almost envy Players' ability to have a fresh start, unburdened by any past."

  It was a bit disappointing that he hadn't bitten the hook, but Neron decided to try a different angle.

  "It can be exhilarating, and it certainly allows us to meet interesting people, but where are my manners?" Neron, as if just remembering her presence, turned to Medea. "You did not come to speak with me. Would you like me to provide some privacy?"

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He looked from one to the other and stepped back, as if ready to leave as soon as either said the word.

  "There is no need to go so far," Viscount Cavon Hardinee's smile was one of genuine warmth now, but he didn't ask Neron to leave. "I have no desire to impose my presence and merely came to wish a fine morning to the Lady after seeing her. Now that I have done so, I shall rejoin my own party."

  "It was good to see you, and I hope to see you at my next lecture."

  Medea, on the other hand, had kept her welcoming smile the exact same throughout the entire exchange. He'd have to give her tips... If she asked. She almost certainly knew the local customs way better than him, but practice couldn't hurt. She'd never been interested before but maybe if she was interacting with nobility regularly, he could finally teach her something in turn.

  "I am counting the days." Cavon bowed his head to Medea again and then did so to Neron, though the angle was noticeably shallower. "Lady Medea. Sir Kaisar. Until we meet again."

  He stepped back beyond the sound barrier and turned to join two young women and a young man, also dressed in clearly tailored clothes, at another table.

  Once he turned, Medea and Neron retook their seats.

  There was a beat of silence. Then Neron piped up.

  "I did not realize a mid-level witch was such a big deal that a noble would invest effort into investigating your friends. What sort of quest are you doing?"

  Nobody had bought the lie that the Viscount had decided to stop by just to say good morning. Whether the meeting here was a coincidence or not was irrelevant. What was important were the words spoken and unspoken.

  'Lady Medea.' For serving staff to use it was one thing. For a Viscount was another.

  "The quest is just to lecture at a local magical institution. That kind of place is filled with nobles like him," Medea rolled her eyes in disinterest before narrowing them at Neron. "Someone like me, with my Knowledge, is more valuable to them than a level two hundred warrior. I'm staying out of it though."

  Neron nodded slowly, understanding just why someone with supernatural information gathering ability would be incredibly useful for anyone in a political field. Particularly in the turbulent times since the arrival of players.

  "And Cavon Hardinee specifically?"

  "He's one of the more ambitious ones. An inferiority complex about his prodigy of a sister. She married out of the family instead of inheriting, leaving the younger sibling to try and fail to live up to her shadow. He thinks if he can secure my service, either through employment or marriage, his parents will finally recognize him enough to pass on the title. There was also a disappearance he's tangentially connected to a few months ago and he wanted me to help investigate, hoping to upstage her a bit."

  "How would that even work? Marriage, I mean. The logistics between a player and native would be a challenge."

  "I can explain later but more importantly," Medea hissed under her breath, whispering despite their magically enforced privacy. Her face was locked in that same expression as when Cavon had been there, but her eyes were not smiling. "What is your plan?

  "Plan?" Neron asked, confused.

  "You always have a plan," Medea insisted. "You aren't nice for the sake of nicety. You want something from him, or you would’ve remained quiet. What is it?"

  "Nothing in particular," Neron admitted.

  "Then what was that?" She hissed.

  "What do you mean?" Neron asked, not understanding where her anger was coming from.

  "That!" She made a small gesture with her head in the direction the noble had left. "Why did you act like that? Why put on the show?"

  "Why would I not?"

  "Because-"

  Medea cut herself off as the waiter arrived with their food.

  Thanking them, Neron took a good look at the entire reason he'd been dragged out of bed early.

  It didn't look too alien to what he'd consider breakfast. A layered pastry of some sort had pride of place in the center, covered in fruit and cream. A thin slice of meat lay beside it in an orange sauce. The green juice of the local equivalent of the orange was poured into his glass before the waiter stepped back with a bow.

  Altogether, it looked like a balanced, if luxurious meal.

  It was also glowing.

  Literally.

  "Magic food?" Neron asked with a quirked brow.

  "Just... Just try it?" Medea sighed, rubbing her eyes with two fingers.

  Neron did so, cutting a slice off the pastry first.

  From the first bite, Neron could understand what Medea had been getting at. There was the expected sweetness of the cream and light texture of the dough, as well as the tartness of the fruit. If that were all, it would just be a good meal.

  That wasn't all.

  First, it lingered way too long on the tongue to be natural. Each part remained distinct after chewing and even after he swallowed it, he could still taste it perfectly. Then it cut off completely, as if he'd taken a palette cleanser and let it sit for a while, allowing his second bite to be just as novel and delicious as the first.

  Second, every bite seemed to simultaneously warm him up and cool him off, as if it were a hot day and he was taking a cool swim. It spread through his body from his stomach, energizing him without any of the delay of caffeine.

  There were other aspects Neron couldn't accurately describe, either due to a lack of reference or because he just didn't have the words to accurately express what he was feeling. For example, his body was left... tingling was the best way to put it, but wasn't wholly accurate. Or the fact that every bite somehow tasted nostalgic, like something from a fond childhood memory, but Neron was certain that was impossible.

  "Thoughts?" Medea had watched him take a few bites with an eagle-like gaze, searching his face for... something.

  "It is good," Neron praised in between bites. "Very good. Thank you for bringing me here."

  It wasn't just good. It was supernaturally good.

  Yet Medea looked disappointed at his response as she sat back in her chair with a sigh, beginning to eat her own food.

  "Eating properly enchanted food has numerous benefits," she started, sounding a bit dispirited. "From increasing one's faculties, both physical and mental, to even allowing one to go for longer without needing to eat or drink. Many players will make sure they eat such a meal before embarking on a quest or challenging fight. It’s expensive. You need to pay for material as well as the specialized chefs that know how to make it. Even more so if you want specific enchantments, such as resistance to temperature changes or faster healing."

  "The lacking transportation infrastructure of this world probably does not help," Neron commented, taking another slow bite.

  They felt no need to rush due to the length the food remained fresh in their mouths. This was food meant to be dined on, not eaten.

  "It doesn't, but most players will go out of their way to acquire this food. They will accumulate money just to eat this. They will create characters with Natures just to be able to create it themselves. Most of them do not even care for the various benefits."

  "Because it tastes good," Neron agreed, understanding the impulse.

  Humans were just like every other animal.

  What was good was good and should be pursued.

  What was bad was bad and should be avoided.

  "Because it tastes good," Medea agreed. "That's the thing about God's Nature. It's a terrible game. But it lets you do things that shouldn't be possible. Food like this. Sights you can't imagine. Wealth. Fame. Power. Magic."

  There was a note of wonder and joy in her voice as she waved her hand over the table, causing a rain of purple and blue sparks.

  Then she met Neron's eyes.

  "Why did you act like that with Cavon?"

  "Why would I not?" Neron asked again. "He wanted to use me to get close to you. I am merely prepared to use him in turn."

  "No." Medea tapped the table with a finger. It was hard enough to make a loud sound. "What I'm asking is this: If you did not have a plan, what is the purpose of using him?"

  "For whatever I want?" Neron half asked.

  Medea sighed, sagging into her chair and setting down her fork.

  "You manipulate people for no reason but that might need them in the future."

  "I would rather have a connection if I needed it rather than need one and not have it. Most of the ones I currently hold are middle class and one to nobility might come in handy someday."

  "Neron. Gus." Fien closed her eyes and sighed. Then she opened them and met his gaze intently. "Let me be perfectly clear since you do not seem to understand what I am getting at."

  Gus also set down his fork, giving her his full attention. It was rare for her to be this blunt. As a teacher, she was the type to give baseline information and then let her students figure the nuances themselves.

  "I- We are worried," Medea corrected and Neron understood she was speaking for both herself and his sisters. There was no one else who'd be worried about him. So they were the ones who were forcing her to be direct rather than her usual tactic. "You've been displaying symptoms of getting Lost."

  ... That wasn't right.

  That couldn't be right.

  "It's been more obvious in the last year," Medea continued, seeing the confusion on his face. "At first, we thought it might just be the girls getting close to graduation and the anxieties about that. Originally, they planned to only tell you about their ability to support themselves with the game once they were fully established, but they brought it forward."

  "But I am not anxious about them?" Neron pointed out.

  Yes, he was here to check on their 'business venture' but that was more so he could understand it and was out of a brother's concern than anything else. He had full confidence they'd be able to take care of themselves. Even if God’s Nature fell through, there was no reason he wouldn't be able to help them if they needed it.

  "And one of the main symptoms is a change in behavior, leading to being anti-social, depression, or other irregularities in day-to-day behavior. I do not believe I have behaved in any way different to how I have done in the past."

  He'd experience no loss of appetite, sex drive, or anything similar. He got enough exercise, regularly engaged in social activities with coworkers or his sisters, and wasn't struggling financially.

  Gus was young, intelligent, sociable, fit, had a close friend, a good relationship with his family, and was well educated. He wasn't rich and hadn't attended secondary education yet, but that would come with time.

  Looking at it objectively, Neron could not point out any aspect of concern in his life. If he were to be hyperbolic, he'd describe his life as 'perfect' or 'the ideal.' Not in a fantasized way, certainly, but in a realistic manner. The type of 'perfect' that was possible.

  "You haven't behaved any differently. But that's why it took us so long to notice. You haven't changed," Medea agreed. She gave him that look again. The one filled with pity. "Not for years. Not when you finished school. Not when you started working. Not when you stopped working. Not when you started playing God's Nature. Every day, like clockwork. You are the exact same."

  "You make me sound like I am a robot," Neron rolled his eyes. "I might not decide to climb Olympus on a whim, but I have done new things. You should know, you were there for most of them."

  "I was. And every single one of those 'new' things was precipitated by someone else. Every vacation was one of the girls asking for it. Every convention was something they or I expressed interest in. Every disruption to your routine is because they, I, another coworker, or your most recent lover introduced something new into your life. Not once have you sought anything out. We just never noticed. Not until recently."

  "Humans are creatures of habit," Neron pointed out, not seeing the problem or how it related to him getting Lost. "Some people crave external stimuli and thus seek out new experiences. I get that feeling internally, thus never need to seek them out, but I do not reject them when it happens."

  "When was the last time you enjoyed yourself, Gus?"

  "A minute ago, with the food. Last night with Shejou. Yesterday with Kinen's Tome of Esoteric Monsters." Neron answered easily and quickly. "If you mean outside the game? Last night I finished Travov's Empty Planet before getting in the pod. The day before, I helped Aleene with her final essay on Paradise Lost. I watched a show with Trau. I went out with Molian for drinks. My life is filled with nothing but enjoyable experiences."

  "Then why aren't you happy?"

  ...

  Silence descended on the table.

  "The only time I've ever seen you smile is when you're putting on an act for someone," Medea continued softly. "Even your sadism can't make you laugh more than a little. You take no pleasure in anything you do anymore. You never get angry. You never even get frustrated. Even when Julia..."

  She didn't finish the sentence, but Neron didn't need her to. Thinking back, Gus asked himself: had he cried?

  ...He hadn't.

  What an oversight.

  "You feel physical pleasure. From food. From sex. From rest. But, Augustus, have you ever felt joy? Has anything you've ever done made you truly happy, instead of just content?" The look in her eyes made Neron clench his fist against his knee. "Have you ever truly wanted anything?"

  "You know I did," he met her gaze with one of his own, one that made it clear what he was talking about.

  "I know," she looked pained at the reminder. "I wish I could give you a different answer, but I can't. I just don't want a relationship. Of any sort."

  "And I do not want you to change your answer," Neron pointed out. Any sort of romantic feelings he'd had for her were long gone with time and friendship. "Merely pointing that you have proof that I have things I want."

  "Once. You've wanted one thing in the decades we've known each other."

  Untrue.

  Gus had wanted three things in his life.

  He'd gotten none of them.

  Neron considered that a good thing. They'd been the desires of an idiot youth and if he'd gotten them his life would be measurably worse, not better.

  If Fien had decided to pursue a relationship with him when he'd asked, for example, it wouldn't have changed her asexuality. A sexual relationship wasn't necessary for partners, and Gus could fulfill that desire elsewhere, but it would still have been a point of contention.

  More importantly was her own aversion to connecting her life to another. Any relationship barring what they currently held would just have led to the ruination of the sole friendship Gus had. There was also everything else that happened right after that, but hindsight was pointless for evaluating the 'him' at the time.

  Pointing all that out, however, would be counterproductive.

  "Should I not be worried about you then?" Neron asked, picking up his fork to resume his meal. "You are the same as you have always been."

  "I am happy." Medea was blunt with her answer. She did not pick up her own fork. "I've wanted to be a teacher since I was a girl. I love it. I love playing God's Nature during my down time. Even if they don't all like me, I love that little orphanage of yours… I can't think of anything you love."

  "I love learning new things," Neron disagreed.

  "You enjoy learning," Medea corrected him. "Not once have you ever been excited about it. Not like I am, or Aleene is, or anyone else I've ever met."

  Neron couldn't agree or disagree there. He didn't know what other people felt, only what he did.

  This entire conversation assumed that Medea and his sisters knew what he felt, which was impossible. They weren't wrong, per se, but rather that the conclusion they'd drawn from their observable evidence was lacking persuasiveness.

  Neron had yet to hear a problem in his behavior that could lead to the conclusion that he was getting Lost.

  His life was good. He was fine. And even if he didn't experience emotions like others didn't mean that he was in any way less than them.

  "The girls are terrified they'll come home one day to find you Gone."

  Skrreeeee.

  His fork made a grating sound as he cut into his meat a bit too forcefully.

  "...I see," he said before taking a bite.

  It was supernaturally delicious, just as the pastry was, yet Neron barely noticed it.

  His mind was on an armchair that was simultaneously occupied and so, so empty.

  "They have nothing to worry about," Neron answered after he finished chewing. "I do not plan on going anywhere."

  Medea sighed in defeat, picking up her fork.

  He could understand her frustration. This was precisely why she'd been reluctant to tell him straight out about their fears. Most of the Lost also didn't see anything wrong with themselves. Studies had shown that forewarning didn't have a significant effect on whether someone displaying the symptoms of getting Lost did so or not. The same with a change in environment.

  Similar studies had also pointed out that the greatest chance of recovery came from an internal change.

  Unlike depression, which could have medical reasons and proof, or suicidal tendencies, which were categorized by a desire for self-harm, the modern world hadn't yet discovered a method to identify someone who was close to getting Lost with any degree of certainty. Even the symptoms could just be signs of something else.

  Neron thought that was the case here. They'd mistaken his ability to live life without ambition as someone at risk.

  Nothing he said or did could alleviate them of that fear and it would just have to naturally go away as the years passed, and he never got Lost. If not by the time he returned from university, then in a decade, or in a century or two.

  The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence, with only light conversation.

  After paying for the meal and stepping out of the restaurant into the busier street, Medea started the logging-off process and faced Neron.

  "Just... Try and complete that quest I gave you," Medea suggested.

  "I am," Neron shrugged. "But thinking of something you have never thought of is not exactly easy, is it?"

  "I'm sure you can do it." What baseless confidence in him. "And try and have fun. This is a game after all."

  As she logged out, Neron debated following her but decided against it.

  It was the middle of the night in the real world, and his sisters would still be in their own pods. After that, they'd be heading to school. Even if he wanted to talk to them, the earliest would be when they came back.

  That'd be days from now, so he might as well stay in the game and take advantage of the time dilation. He'd found a rather well written book recently about the advent of video games and culture that grew around them, and he'd like to finish it.

  With an idea of how to spend the day, Neron started making his way back to the park. He hadn't been to this part of the city before, but it was easy to find his way by looking up.

  With the massive Arch located, Neron started making his way toward the plaza and, from there, to the park.

  It was a bit of a walk, the restaurant had been located on the Fringe, three or so blocks bordering the inner wall. Affluent but not prodigiously wealthy enough to be able to afford a place in the interior. Optim's bookstore, being the best collection available to the public, was only a third of the way to the outer wall but that was still a long walk through the sprawling city.

  It did give him the opportunity to watch people as they started their day. He tried to replicate Medea's feat of identifying players and guessing their Natures but ended up giving up rather quickly.

  Without the supernatural deductive abilities of a high Knowledge stat, he couldn't tell if the elf with the chakrams was a player who built a character around the esoteric weapon, or a native who'd found them in a ruin and was fascinated by them.

  Was that orc with the double headed hammer a mercenary from the Wandering Hordes or a player role-playing?

  Stars, he couldn't even tell if that was a baby faced halfling in a robe or an actual child.

  It was an interesting exercise, even if ultimately fruitless, that kept his mind occupied as he followed the flow of traffic along the cobblestones toward the Grand Sanctuary.

  As always, it was packed. A dozen or so people resurrecting in the grand plaza every minute. Some immediately set off while others took more time to recuperate after whatever killed them. There were the new players as well, easy to identify by their starting equipment. While identical to the clothes everyone wore when resurrected, they were noticeably thicker and more durable.

  The shops surrounding the plaza were busy, even this early, but activities weren't limited to their insides as stalls were set up along the rim of the resurrection point, clearly marked by an artistic depiction of the deity of life, Theiodot. Passing the red ring of stones that surround the image, various merchants hawked their wares to the resurrected players and natives. Surrounding all of them were nearly a hundred guards, both for protection of the Grand Sanctuary and to catch any bounties that resurrected here.

  There was everything from food and drink to stalls selling basic weapons or clothes that wouldn't disappear in a day. Since everybody came back with only the temporary clothes, there were also money lenders nearby, though most went to the nearby Bank building, its large double doors barely able to keep up with the flow.

  Neron had intended to simply make his way through the plaza towards the alley that would eventually lead to his favorite reading spot, but a familiar face had him divert his path toward the corner of the Grand Sanctuary where new players spawned.

  "-Hordes call!" A burly orc in armor thumped his fist on his chest as he called loudly to be heard over the sound of the crowd. A massive specimen, he probably had a head over even Neron who could look Greck in the eyes. "Orcs get bonus in Body, your size increases, and your resurrection time decreases! There's no waiting time for the Rebirth Pools! A convoy is leaving in a week! If you want to fight and fight, become an orc and join the Hordes!"

  Unlike the orc, which was tall enough to be seen and heard over the crowd, a small platform had been erected for the representatives of the therianthropes.

  "You can be anything," the male wolf-kin said, running a hand through his long grey hair and leaning back against a pole on the stage. It looked effortless, but it also allowed his open jacket to frame his well-defined physique. His lack of a shirt attracted just as much attention as his words. "You can run with the horses, hunt with the wolves, or swim with the whales."

  Neron quirked an eye at the little fib at the end, imagining the poor new player who decided to 'swim with the whales' without doing any research.

  "Maybe you don't want to join a group," the female panther-kin teased, bending forward to the gathered audience. Her smile had a wicked charm which only added to the allure of her curves clearly displayed in her tight leather outfit. "We also need those sorts of people. You can prowl the shadows or lurk in the deep waters. You can be anything. Anything."

  Either these two didn't know what they were talking about and had just been hired for their looks or they were willingly misleading the crowd about the dangers of being an aquatic therianthrope. At least they weren't advertising the ability to fly if they took an avian species. Still, Neron wasn't going to go out of his way to dissuade the curious onlookers from making poor choices.

  If the orcs were using the thrill of battle to entice people to join them, and the therianthropes were using sex appeal, then the elves' tactic was as simple as it was brilliant.

  A lone elf woman stood in an opening in the crowd and around her magic danced. Conjured lights and sounds rolled in harmony, only to turn into a projected scene of a group of wizards raining destruction over a battlefield which turned into a lone mage raising a castle from the earth. Over and over, the scenes shifted and changed depicting the wonders of what could be accomplished with magic.

  Neron walked right by these displays, having seen them before and not having any desire to invest the time it would take to travel to the Rebirth Pools to change his race at the moment.

  Instead, he made his way toward a stall set up beside the spawn point. There were no grand speeches or overt displays to draw attention, yet the crowd surrounding the stall was as large as any other as new players waited in line to sign up for their services.

  Standing beside the stall, and right under the large banner spelling out 'The Bank' was an older man, probably in his second century or so, in form fitting and stylish armor, polished so it glinted in the morning sunlight.

  "Calvin," Neron called with a smile, raising his hand in greeting to get the man's attention as he approached through the crowd.

  "Neron," Calvin returned his smile. "Good to see you. Decided to sign up after all?"

  "I do not have anything valuable enough to need your services yet," Neron denied. "I was just passing by and thought to say good morning."

  "We offer a new player package. No fees for the first six months." Calvin, always on the job, still tried to sell him a safe box, but Neron was carrying pretty much all he owned. Even if he died and lost everything, it wouldn't be a great inconvenience.

  "I will probably take you up on that soon enough, but not right now," Neron denied with a friendly smile. Then he leaned in, speaking low to try not to be overheard. "I also came to congratulate you. I heard you guys are creating a city?"

  "That's the plan," Calvin nodded easily, not bothering to lower his voice. This information was all over the internet after all. "If you're interested, I can sign you up for the settlement voyage. We need all sorts of people, and everyone is welcome."

  "Maybe," Neron didn't reject this proposal outright, but kept his voice down. "But I also heard a rumor that the Banker will be in town soon to settle some sort of deal with the kingdom? This could be your chance."

  Calvin's eyes widened and he hurried to cover Neron's mouth with a hand as he looked around to see if anyone heard him. His actions drew more attention than Neron’s words, yet attention alone wouldn’t get him killed.

  "Don't say that!" He hissed quietly. "I'll die. I'll seriously die."

  Neron's smile was teasing as he didn't answer, just raising his brows and wiggling them.

  "I'm not joking," Calvin explained hurriedly. "You don't know her bodyguard. She's insane!"

  "You are pretty high up in the organization, right? And level one eighty? You can take her."

  "Eighty-one," Calvin corrected and Neron muttered a small 'congratulations.' "And that doesn't matter. Not to her. She's way stronger than me and she's an absolute lunatic. 'Kill her own men when they piss her off' lunatic. I got this job because the last guy made a joke she didn't like. He deleted his character!"

  "So, is it true? Are they coming to Calderine?" Neron asked, diverting the conversation to where he actually wanted it. "Are they here yet?"

  "No," Calvin sighed, glad for the change of topic. "And before you ask, I don't know when they'll get here. Travel plans are secret. For obvious reasons. I don't even know how you heard of it. You don't go online much."

  "I have my ways," Neron shrugged. "I wanted to let you know if you had not heard. You know, as thanks for helping me when I started. I should have known they would have told you already."

  "I still appreciate the thought," Calvin nodded.

  "Still, I only heard that a few of the larger guilds would be in the area. Some sort of big festival or something?"

  "I don't know much more than that myself," the Bank member said helplessly. "I'm not that connected to external matters. I focus on internal issues. All I know is that none of the other guilds want the Bank to get too big and are going to try and limit us somewhat while they get their own advantages. There’s also a whole negotiation with the king and his court, so many of the details are up in the air."

  "Any chance the city plan will fall through?"

  "Nah. That's already done," Calvin shook his head. "More than likely, the guilds are going to lean on the royals and nobles to slow down our growth. The king has been trying to court the Banker, so he's behind it but a few of the Dukes and Duchesses aren't friendly to players so the other guilds might work with them. The Bank is investing a lot in this plan. Resources. People. Money. It'll pay off in the long run, but our hands will be tied for a while. This is their chance."

  "Will you be alright," Neron asked, getting a better idea of the politics at the top from just this much.

  "We'll be fine. I don't know the details, like I said, but word from on high is that there is a good reason the Banker chose the location she did for establishing El Dorado."

  "Alright, just take care of yourself. And let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

  "You can level up," Calvin said slyly. "I get a bonus for everyone who signs up and that goes up with your levels and how far your Nature is. If you could get to level a hundred and sign up for our Diamond package, I'd appreciate it."

  "Tell you what," Neron gave a small laugh. "If I ever make it that far, I will do just that. I will not use any other employee but you."

  "I'll hold you to that."

  Letting Calvin get back to work, Neron finally headed to the park, mind occupied by thoughts of his friend, his sisters, and the Bank.

  As he took a seat on his preferred bench in the shade and looked out at the sprawl of the city below him, he briefly considered Medea's concerns once more.

  No matter how he thought of it, even if he considered it from every angle, he was unable to find a point of concern.

  Yes, Julia had been a turning point in his life, but only insofar as his external circumstances were concerned. He'd needed to step up to keep his family together, but it hadn't been particularly onerous, and they'd had enough money left over from her retirement cycle that they hadn't suffered any real hardship once he'd taken a few jobs. It hadn't been glamorous or luxurious, but also not bad by any means.

  Besides, what was a decade and a half of less-than-ideal work compared to the centuries of life he had ahead of him? Neron wasn't even fifty, barely even considered an adult in the eyes of society and had a long future to look forward to.

  It wasn't like he'd made a mistake in his decision, either. The plan had been to keep working to help put the girls through university and, once they'd done so and were independent, he'd focus on his own life. From an objective point of view, if they truly had a method to make decent money already, then he'd even profit from his decisions as the money he set aside for them would be available.

  If, externally, there was no reason for concern, there was even less of one internally.

  Looking back on his life from his earliest moment to now, barring the natural ignorance of children and changes that came from growing up, Gus was as consistent in personality and actions as one could expect.

  There was always the possibility Neron was missing something, as complete self-awareness was impossible, but he considered that unlikely. He was already more self-reflective than the vast majority of people.

  He'd revisit the question occasionally, just to be certain, but Neron was convinced that there was no risk of getting Lost.

  With such thoughts, Neron leaned back on his bench. Idly noting, now that he knew to look for it, the familiar hawk was eating another snake on a nearby branch as he flicked open his screen to the bookmark he'd left.

  As people of all shapes and sizes walked by, Neron did not pay them any attention, remaining in place with his reading.

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