“Players of The Golden Age, may I have your attention please!”

That voice was like a knife-blade straight to Robin’s heart, even distorted as it was by the amplification of an electronic speaker. The crowd’s attention snapped upward to a pair of tall figures poised atop levitating disks. One held a chair in which a blonde woman sat, dressed in high-tech gear that, like the disks, glowed gamer-green. The other was empty, save for a standing man in navy blue, whose tactical super-suit included a distinctive archer’s chest guard and quiver.

Both disks had speakers built into their base, through which the man was speaking with a microphone. The woman’s eyes were hidden by an opaque visor, but from the way her fingers moved and her head stayed ducked, it was clear that the device across her knees was a soundboard.

“You may or may not recognize us. This is Wiz Kid, and they call me—” He winced, visible from the crowd. “Zippy. We’re here on behalf of the Silver Sentinels, the largest player team on the server.”

A titter of relief and recognition swept through the crowd. Zippy and Wiz Kid were two of the six level-capped players known as The Core, the founders and leaders of the Silver Sentinels team, who were renown for their participation in raids and special events. Anyone who pulled out the Analyzer could easily confirm their identities; their Reputation was so high that all characters would be assumed to know of them, even if their players didn’t.

Wiz Kid tapped something on the side of her chair and the two disks began to lower, bringing them closer to the crowd that had started to build again to hear their announcement. Zippy continued.

“Based on the game clock, we have approximately two hours until nightfall. If you don’t know, the nights in this world are long and often dangerous for those wandering the streets. When we were players, this was ideal. But now this isn’t a game. You may be scared, or confused, or angry, and we get it. This isn’t the time to be playing hero. Especially when you can’t log out and have no home to return to.

“That’s why the Sentinels are opening our guild to all players level 25 and lower. Come to our headquarters tonight, and you’ll get a bunk. No questions asked.”

Their disks settled on the ground and several players rushed forward immediately. Before Wiz Kid could cut the feed, the mic picked up their questions: “Do the Sentinels know what happened?” “What do you expect us to do?” and, loudest of all, “Where’s Knightblade? Why isn’t he—”

click.

The crowd surged forward in twos and threes, leaving Robin at a distance with her stomach doing back-flips. Part of her wanted to rush in alongside them, shove her way to the front and throw herself into Zippy’s arms, just to bask in his presence. But the shifted weight of her new body held her back.

Seeing her like this…god, what would he even say? What could she tell him?

Beside her, Tisha breathed a sigh of visible relief. “Thank goodness. At least someone has their head on straight.”

“You should go with them.”

Robin stared at the ground, but felt Tisha’s gaze turn her way. She didn’t dare look up. Didn’t trust herself not to break the unsteady mask of calm she could barely hold.

“The Sentinels are a community-support team. One of the biggest. If anyone can get a handle on this mess, it’s them. They’ll take care of you.”

Her voice cracked on the last word as her throat tightened. Without looking up, she bit her lip, turned on the heel of her sneaker, and bolted out of Golden Ratio Park as fast as she could run.

Tisha whirled after her, long hair arcing with the swing of her head. “Robin? Robin!”

But she had already fled.