I take another dose of painkillers and try to sleep some more to pull myself together. I wouldn’t go to school in such a state but I must somehow get to our meeting point which isn’t exactly near from my apartment. The alarm wakes me at nine so that I have time for a long shower. I got sweaty again as my fever didn’t go down a notch. I try cold water instead of hot and it relieves the back pain somewhat.

Even with painkillers doing their magic, a cold shower and a nap I feel shitty and must look like a zombie. Just to be safe, I bring some plastic bags in case I puke again. I put on my usual gaming clothes—it’s not like I own anything else than that. I’m glad that the hoodie hides my whitening hair. No need to look weirder than I already do.

I find an empty seat at the back of the train and collapse on it. There’re three more people sitting but they stand up and run away from me, probably not wanting to catch what I presumably have. Do I really look that horrible? Anyway, less direct emotions which is good.

Since the journey to the centre is at least 35 minutes before changing for a tram, I go over possible scenarios in my head so that I won’t focus that much on what people around me are feeling. All of my theories turn out really pessimistic. Hopefully, I’m just over-thinking as always. There must be a reasonable explanation to all of this.

The developers must have messed up some settings in the VR helmets which came through with the new update. Our brains got confused and started weird processes in our bodies which caused some kind of psychosomatic illness. Yes, it’s purely psychosomatic; I don’t want to even think about tumours.

At the main train station, I have to change to an old fashioned tram. Old Town is considered a UNESCO treasure so the government is trying to keep it as historical as possible.

While waiting at the tram stop and focusing on not collapsing on the pavement, I notice a girl with turbulent emotions of fear. She can’t be more than seventeen years old and is wearing a lolita dress. Lots of girls are into that kind of fashion lately, it’s undergoing a renaissance or something.

Normally I don’t respond to other person’s feelings—how would I explain that I can feel them in the first place?—but that girl is so scared that I have to do something. Feeling shitty myself is no excuse.

Then I notice that she has a Draconia logo key ring hanging on her backpack. I gasp for breath. Of course, I feel so concerned because her feelings are the same as mine right now. She’s also a Draconia player.

“H-hi, sorry to bother you,” I try speaking in Czech because she looks like a local.

The girl flinches. I probably look suspicious in my hoodie and face mask.

“I noticed your key ring,” I add quickly. “I also play Draconia and, well… I feel really weird and I guess you too?”

Her eyes widen. “Y-yes,” she says timidly.

I look around but everybody’s minding their own business and there’s nobody standing too close to us.

“My immersion level has been dropping and a few hours ago I’ve lost my immersion ability completely. Overall, I don’t feel okay.”

The girl nods furiously.

“I play as an Earthborn,” she whispers. “What’s happening? I’ve been looking at the game forums but everyone’s just panicking and the developers have no idea so far. I’m scared to tell my parents, they would take my helmet away from me forever. They’re against VR as it is.”

“Listen,” I continue, surprised that I’m actually talking to an unknown girl with such ease. “I have a meeting with two other players. It’s in a restaurant in Old Town. You can join me if you want.”

“You’re not some kind of pervert?” she narrows her eyes in suspicion.

“No, I just dress funny,” I take off my face mask.

“Oh!” she’s genuinely surprised and for a moment forgets about her defences. “A true Asian pretty boy!”

I sigh and roll my eyes. I get that a lot.

“Aren’t you Asian?” she notices my irritated reaction. “Your Czech is perfect, though.”

“Half Japanese, half Czech,” I shrug. “I might look more to the Asian side but I’ve been living here for 20 years.”

“Sorry, we just love Asian stuff,” she blushes.

“Yes, I know,” I say impatiently. “Would you like to join me then? We’ll use a tram that is full of people and there’re waiters in the restaurant. You have nothing to be afraid of and you can always run.”

“No problem, I trust your pretty face,” she smiles.

“You shouldn’t trust people so easily and based on looks alone,” I sigh.

“Don’t lecture me, you’re not that much older!”

A teenage mind is always intriguing. Not childish anymore, not yet adult. It seems I’ve met a very stubborn person in a rebellious stage. Our tram arrives in that moment, I get on and she does too. She doesn’t hesitate even for a second. Is she that brave or just too trusting?

“My name’s Ryuuto, what’s yours?” I ask when the tram starts to move.

“Sofie, but call me Ingri, that’s my gaming nickname.”

“Nice to meet you, Ingri. I wish it was under more pleasant circumstances.”

“Under pleasant circumstances we’d probably never meet,” she remarks.

We aren’t comfortable talking about the game in a crowded tram and the situation is too serious for a casual small talk so we stay silent for the rest of the journey. We get off on the sixth stop at the National Theatre and I check the map on my phone.

“This way,” I navigate us though the narrow historical streets. Facing a fancy restaurant, my navigation announces that we’ve reached our destination.

“This is it? You sure?” Ingri is doubtful.

“Well, it should be,” I’m as confused as she is. “The address and the name are correct.”

We inconspicuously look inside but a waiter catches us right away.

“Good morning, do you have a reservation?” he’s inspecting my gaming clothes and Ingri’s dress that looks more like a costume. He wrinkles his nose.

“I hope so, a table for Draconia Online,” I say uncertainly. “A friend arranged for us.”

“Oh, that table,” the waiter relaxes. “Please, follow me. One other gentleman is already waiting and Miss Richter should arrive shortly.”

Miss Richter? Is that Liana’s real name? Why did the waiter feel such respect when he said it? We’re taken to our table and there indeed is somebody waiting. He’s about the same age as me which I expected since we both attend university but unlike me, he’s very tall and bulky. He looks like someone serious about sports which is unusual for hardcore gamers.

“Fefnir?” I ask.

“Hell yeah,” he stands up and stretches his hand towards me.

I shake it and thanks to the direct contact I’m able to telepathically check his intentions. The touch is too short for a proper analysis but at least I made sure he’s a good guy who can be trusted. Somehow I think that we can easily become friends even in real life. Maybe meeting virtual friends in the real world isn’t such a bad idea after all. Maybe I shouldn’t have refused his invitation back then.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Fefnir whistles when I take my face mask off. I keep the hoodie, though. “You totally have Celestial features even here.”

“Bishounen,” Ingri mumbles a Japanese word for a handsome boy in a dreamy voice. I resist rolling my eyes.

“And who’s that? You brought your girlfriend?” Fefnir smirks. “What an obvious couple.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I frown, but I know that Fefnir is just joking to release the tension. “We met by chance at the tram stop. I noticed she has a key ring from Draconia and looks uncomfortable so I invited her to our meeting.”

“Seriously, what is this place?” Ingri ruffles her huge skirts and sits down. “I still get pocket money from my parents and that’s definitely not enough to buy even a drink here.”

“Calm down, the waiter assured me that we can order whatever we want and Liana is paying,” Fefnir winks at us and sips from his cup.

“Drinks are nice but I’m starving,” I whine. “I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday because last meals I had ended in my toilet. But it seems painkillers worked and I’m ravenous now.”

“Whatever we want,” Fefnir reminds me. “I ordered scrambled eggs with bacon just a minute before you showed up.”

I flip though the menu. Ingri was right; students can’t afford even a drink here. I decide to trust my viceroy’s generosity and order pancakes with spinach, eggs and ham. Ingri goes for pancakes with blueberries.

I suddenly feel another person approaching our table. And it’s as I’ve been always imagining what Liana’s telepathic imprint would feel like if I ever met her for real. Resolute but kind. Stern but fair. Reasonable but occasionally playful.

“Hi, easy to recognise you right away, you look like your avatar,” she addresses me in English. English from now on it is then, the same as ingame.

I look up from the menu. The real life Liana can be no more than 35 and has long brown hair tied into a perfect high knot and is wearing an expensive-looking business suit.

“Can I say you too?” I say when she sits down. “You have exactly the same expression.”

“Well, I’m sure you mean it as a compliment,” she actually smiles which brightens her serious face. “Have you ordered?”

“Yeah,” Fefnir nods and is nervous to talk because the waiter came with her and is standing next to our table, awaiting more orders.

“Could I have that pumpkin soup with wholemeal bread I often order?” she asks.

“Of course, Miss Richter,” the waiter nods. “Please, tell the young man that even though we don’t have a dress code for breakfasts and lunches, having a hoodie on isn’t acceptable.”

“I will. Also water and orange juice for everyone,” she adds. “We’ll have coffee later.”

The waiter bows courteously and leaves.

“Seriously, take it off,” Liana purses her lips at me. Gosh, she’s really the same as Liana from the game. “That’s rude in any restaurant and super rude here.”

“Sorry, b-but…,” I shyly pull my hoodie down.

My friends look in disbelief at my partly white hair.

“Since yesterday,” I explain. “Probably caused by stress?”

Liana notices the new girl only now when Ingri curiously pulls one of my locks. “Do I know you? Are you from our guild? Or a girlfriend?”

I open my mouth to protest.

“My nickname’s Ingri. I doubt we know each other, Ryuuto noticed me on a tram stop and invited me.” I can feel she’s happy Liana mistook her for my girlfriend.

“So your real name is Ryuuto,” Liana analyzes my looks thoroughly.

“Let’s stick to ingame nicknames,” Fefnir proposes. “I’m hopeless at names.”

Nobody has a problem with that, we all silently nod.

“So I’m Fefnir,” Fefnir introduces himself, just for Ingri.

“Liana,” our benefactor continues.

“Aefener,” I second.

It takes Ingri five seconds to understand what our nicknames imply.

“W-w-wait a minute!” she almost jumps. “Aefener, the Emperor of Celestials? And Liana, the Celestial viceroy? And Fefnir… the name’s also familiar.”

“Viceroy to Dragonkin,” Fefnir helps her.

“Wow! Famous people!” she opens her mouth wide. “I’ve never actually met anybody famous.”

“Yes, I’m a celebrity,” Fefnir grins.

“Stop joking, remember why we’re here,” Liana reprimands him. “The situation is dire, there’s might be something seriously wrong with our brains. We should be in hospital but here we are.”

“Well, I actually have a phobia of doctors,” I raise my hand.

“I don’t and I’m still terrified,” Liana says.

“Hey, we forgot about Gotrid,” Fefnir reminds us, takes out his tablet and calls him. It must be awfully early for Gotrid in New York but he picks up almost immediately.

“Hello guys,” a man in his thirties greets us with a grin which is the same as ingame—mischievous but good-natured. I’m not even surprised that he didn’t button up his shirt considering how openly flirty he is with me.

I gulp. Damn, how can it be? He’s totally my type! Erik can never know we were flirting or he’s going to kill me. Flirting in the game is one thing, there’s no harm if we both know it’s just playful. But flirting while looking at your true faces… that’s thin ice even if Gotrid is in the USA.

“Oh, Your Highness! You’re gorgeous also in real life!” he’s beaming. “And is that Fefnir to your left?”

“Yep, in all my beauty,” Fefnir smirks. “I bet you’re really relieved that Aefener isn’t some fat spotty nerd, right?”

Ingri chuckles.

 “Gotrid, are you in contact with American players?” Liana pushes Fefnir out of the tablet’s camera and sits next to me.

“Good morning, Your Eminence,” Gotrid winks at her.

“And I’m Ingri but you don’t know me from the game,” the girl leans in and waves on the camera. “Oh, another handsome one!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he grins at her. “I have lots of American players in my friend list and their compatibility level keeps decreasing as well. Some of them are using alternative models of VR headsets licensed especially for the US market so it doesn’t depend on the helmet manufacturer.”

“Right, the developers stated that just two hours ago,” Fefnir announces, checking his phone since Liana is occupying his tablet. “They’re apologising and promising that they’re working hard on fixing the problem.”

I feel so relieved. It sucks that Draconia is buggy but it means I didn’t lose my immersion ability. The helmet just doesn’t work for one game.

“Still, that doesn’t explain why we feel so strange,” Liana points out. “I talked to Twyla and Werden whose compatibility was 95% and they also feel really tired and their limbs started tickling.”

“Wow, you talked to my Queen and King?” Ingri is astonished. “Do all high levels know each other?”

“Sure, we started playing when the game launched six years ago and have been playing it ever since,” I quickly explain to her. “Not that many original players persevered. Life eventually interferes I guess.”

“It’s not only tickling,” Liana says. “Aefener, you said that your back is red and swollen, right?”

“Ehm… yeah,” I nod slowly because Ingri doesn’t know. “I thought it could by psychosomatic or something.”

We stop talking when the waiter returns, bringing us our orders. Liana thanks him and waits until he’s gone. She looks at us with an expression saying there’s no need to be formal and starts to eat ravenously. We do the same, the smell of freshly cooked food in front of us is impossible to resist. There’s no more talking for several minutes, just the sound of cutlery hitting plates. Even Gotrid is munching toasts, only in his case it’s very early breakfast.

“I don’t understand the hunger,” Liana says when she finishes her meal. “I get the pain; our brains are confused, sending weird neurological signals. But how can it affect the fullness of our stomachs? I had a sandwich just an hour ago on my way here.”

Fefnir checks the Internet again.

“Oh, it even got to the main news,” he says. “Some players went to hospitals so the authorities took notice.”

We watch the news and discuss things for another half an hour. My condition worsens by the minute. I try to pay attention and hide my discomfort but at a certain point, it’s just impossible.