For Rando, searching a copy of this oddly mysterious game online is as difficult as digging for fossils in one’s basement. It’s not an impossible task, but without certainty that such a copy even exists it might as well be. The only copies he found are those of early alpha builds that did not require an internet access; ones that only consisted of rudimentary stealth gameplay with not even so much as a win-condition. Any other copies besides those were digital-bricks that did nothing but take up tens-of-gigabytes of storage space, without even a button to update to the current version. With a few workarounds one could run them locally, but without server-side connection it simply showcased an empty, lifeless world.

Observing this, he asks himself: If not a single copy of the game-client is available to download, and the older versions refuse to connect, then is the backend server even running? The likelihood of this seems nil, but this mysterious affair continues to motivate him.

As he and Dalton scoured the internet earlier, one name kept popping up over and over again but without any significant indication. Oroide Digital, a now seemingly-defunct company that offered hosting services. Its activities on social media stopped roughly around the same day that Rancor-dev disappeared. It’s no surprise that this little detail sparked threads upon threads of conspiracy theories about the relationship between the two events. Yet, nothing concrete emerged out of it, not even confirmation regarding which hosting service the game relied on.

“This is getting spookier by the minute,” he tells himself, glancing at the faded shadows dancing in his room, cast by traffic-lights against waving trees in the rainy wind. “This better not be some Illuminati situation.”

Given the game’s popularity it is impossible for the most current version to not exist somewhere, even if it remains out of reach. Even if it takes a single obsessive lunatic to ensure these abandonwares are preserved for posterity.

Fortunately for Rando, he knows one such lunatic personally. One he suspects may also have knowledge about this mystery.

His eyes follow the sound of his wall-clock ticking away. It is half-past nine in the night. Meaning, he has only thirty minutes to get a hold of her.

“I’m not gonna go out in the rain at this hour for a video-game that may not exist, am I?”

He turns off his computer, grabs his rain-coat, and goes out in the rain for a video-game that may not exist.

–

Rando has been to this place so many times he can find himself at the entrance with his eyes closed. Emerging from the curtain of rain, his left hand automatically rises before him, anticipating a door that his eyes have yet to see. Without pausing even for a split-second he swings the door open and finds himself inside the building, finally halting at the counter.

He smiles at the woman behind this counter scribbling away in her notebook, who reciprocates with her own as she recognizes him instantly.

“Hi! What will you have today?”

“The same thing you’ll be having,” Rando takes out a package from a water-proof bag he delicately held with his right hand, then unwraps it to reveal three pieces of large samosas and two tightly-covered cups of hot chai. “I figured you’d be hungry and tired, so I took a quick-trip to an Indian snack-bar.”

“Get me espresso next time,” she flicks her long carmine hair behind her shoulder and takes a sip of hot chai that fails to warm her tone.

“Picky today, aren’t we?” Rando grins as he takes his wet rain-coat off, wipes his hands and takes a bite of a samosa.

This librarian before him is the owner of Nora’s Game Library: Nora MacGorman. Nora and her brother had an innovative business idea of renting games as a means to preserve them, treating them like books for posterity, which is how this establishment came to be. Being passionate about the state of retro-games accessibility, many of which are left to become abandonware, the siblings gave those software a home like one would for an orphan. As a result, people and shops frequently sell or donate games they no longer need, and she takes pleasure in meticulously finding the ideal space for each one.

Right behind Rando, the aisle boasts a sleek display of the latest games, immaculately arranged; but venture further back, and the games grow progressively older. This tiny, tucked-away space in the city houses every game ever produced, no matter how obscure or small the company behind it may be. Even if the librarian herself may forget its existence. Even if the legality of it all may be slightly questionable.

This small space is a retro-gamer’s heaven.

Meaning, this library is Rando’s final stop.

“How’s your brother doing these days?”

Nora forces a wistful smile. “According to the doctor, he shows signs of recovery… but to be frank, I can’t tell the difference.”

“I’ll pay him visit next weekend. It’s been a while I’ve seen his face,” Rando decides on impulse. Although the two have barely spoken in the past, he can’t help but feel heartbroken about it.

“I’d love that. In fact, I’ll take you there,” she points at her watch with the tip of her snack before biting into it. “But first, if you’re here for something, you’ve got fifteen minutes till closing time.”

“I won’t take long,” he winks as he wipes his hands with a tissue-paper, grabs his tea and takes off for the aisles. “Oh, and that third one is for you as well!”

There’s a good reason Rando avoided asking her about Symphony of Rancor: he suspects the game may have something to do with her brother’s comatose condition just as with other alleged victims. If this was the case, and if the conspiracy is real, then must be a reason for Nora to keep this a secret. Therefore, if asked, she would not only deny knowledge of such a game, but would also take great pains to ensure he never gets his hands on it.

“So, here’s my master-plan,” he silently monologues to himself like a dork. “I have no intention to steal and betray her trust, so I will have to confront her with the game in hand. She will try to make excuses, but I will keep asking questions until she slips up. Then I casually reveal the holes in her story, so she has no choice but to tell me the truth. If push comes to shove, I may have to use her old piracy collection as leverage. Ĉio laŭ plano.”

He pops up his collar to appear inconspicuous, but it has the opposite effect of making him look even more suspicious. He quickly scans the shelves according to year of release, then in the RPG and Stealth sections, and then once again in alphabetical order. There is no sign of the game, but that falls within his expectations. He glances at Nora finishing her tea, then to a closed room on the opposite side with two words on its door: Staff only.

To any other customer it may seem like an ordinary off-limits staff room, but Rando, having been in here before, was privy to its true purpose. This simple, seemingly innocuous door leads to a different dimension where time has stopped ticking; it is a room carefully concealing records of the forgotten past, preserved for all eternity.

He sneaks towards the door and turns the knob. Just as he expected, it clicks and opens itself to him without struggle, which is only possible at this late hour.

A proud grin appears on his face as he narrates his own actions to himself again, “That was easy. Commencing operation.”

He walks backwards into the room while humming music from a spy movie, pretending to be on a top-secret mission, and as he closes the door the room falls into darkness again. His fingers confidently find the light switch without looking, after which he turns around dramatically.

And bangs his nose onto a shelf that he is certain wasn’t there before.

“It will take more than that to defeat me, Nora!” Rubbing his nose he curses her under his breath then looks around.

A meticulous collection of ancient games and software that are no longer accessible to the world reveal themselves like fossils in a museum. Unlike the library outside, the furthest side of the room consists of uniquely labeled shelves instead of being categorized by genre: “Games I hate with a passion.” “Games not meant for mortals.” “Games I will call the police for.” So on and so forth.

Not letting this opportunity go to waste, he scans the area, from corner to corner, going through every rack and shelf as quickly as possible until finally… he finds it in box tucked away above a cabinet.

–

Nora finishes her calculations for the day and prepares to close the library. Just as she is about to look for Rando, he appears before her, grinning ear to ear.

“Looks like you found something you like,” she calls out to him, and then points to her wrist-watch.

“Yeah, and in the nick of time too. I’d like to rent this.”

He slides a fairly ordinary CD towards her, which stands out like sore thumb among the licensed games Nora is known to rent. Yet, it is not the appearance of the disk that drains all color from her face, but the words on it:

*Symphony of Rancor v2.3”.

She gawks at his oddly punchable face grinning back at her with the pretense of innocence and vibe of a troll who knows what he is doing. There is a lot she wants to tell him, but words fail to come out of her lips.

Rando, sensing the awkwardness, chooses to breaks the ice with one of his many dialogue options he prepared for such a situation.

“Nora, you don’t look so good. Now don’t go telling me this game is just for preservation purposes. I’m sure you–”

“Please leave.”

Nora holds onto the disk and coldly gestures Rando to leave. Rando is taken aback by this answer. He expected her to make excuses, not be so blunt with him. He feels his spirit drop, as if his body signals to him that he is about to lose something important to him, and he doesn’t understand why. Yet, as confounded as he may be, he does not intend to back down. At the same time, he cannot risk jeopardising his relationship with her. So, he racks his brain to salvage the situation.

“I just want to rent the game, Nora.”

“Games from the preservation archive are not for rent,” her eyes drill into Rando’s, making him deeply uncomfortable. “I can’t believe you’d go there without asking me.”

“Since when has that ever stopped me? We’ve been over a few favors before, so humor me one more–”

“Not this one.”

“Why not?”

“What do you want? Why are you even here?”

Rando hesitates before he finally speaks his mind, “When I was first shocked to find your brother in the hospital, you told me he had a stroke. But that’s not true, is it?”

Nora stays silent. Her eyes fall to her notebook yet see nothing. Her silence tells him everything… but something inside him doesn’t want to take advantage of that. He abandons his master-plan for her sake and improvises, driven by feelings alone.

“I’ll be honest. I heard the history of this game just today. I found out about what happened to the victims, and something bothered me about it. It reminded me of Sean.”

“That’s true,” without beating around the bush, she confirms his suspicion in a soft voice cracking under the weight of many emotions. “It’s all because of this god-forsaken game.”