Chapter 2: Players Online

Alec didn't move for a long time.

The card was still in his hand. The wax seal, still warm.

His HUD flickered—then blinked. A new sound.

Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.

His friends list was growing.

[YOUNG-BLOOD] – Online

[Vera//Null] – Online

[LΞECH] – Online

[Numb3r3d] – Online

[EchoEnd] – Typing…

Alec watched, transfixed, as his terminal filled with names he had never seen—players, users, ghosts. All alive. All logged in.

Then, the chat opened:

[EchoEnd]: Welcome, Newblood. Don't get cocky. The Terminal eats beginners.

[Vera//Null]: He's not cocky. He's scared. Smart boy.

[LΞECH]: Betting early. Classic ego bait. Let's see how long he lasts.

[YOUNG-BLOOD]: I give him two rounds max. Then it's bye-bye, memory."

Alec typed back.

[Alec]: What is this? Why me? Why any of us?

A pause.

Then Vera replied.

[Vera//Null]: The Terminal doesn't choose randomly. You clicked it. That's consent.

[EchoEnd]: You let it see you. Now it owns a piece of you.

[YOUNG-BLOOD]: You're not a person anymore. You're a profile with a countdown.

Alec's hands clenched.

[Alec]: Who runs it? There has to be someone. A creator. A system.

That's when a new message appeared—typed in a different color.

Not from any username.

A system message.

[??SYSTEM]: Challenge Incoming. Prepare.]

The air around him shifted again. Cold. Charged.

His HUD flickered violently, then loaded a new screen.

[ROUND TWO: MEMORY MATCH]

> Reward: Memory Restoration – Tier 1

> Wager: 6 Hours

> Penalty: Permanent Loss – Emotional Core Memory

The game wasn't subtle anymore.

It was targeting him. Playing with his mind like a deck of cards.

[Begin in 10… 9… 8…]

Alec sat down fast. His hands gripped the sides of his chair as the lights dimmed and the world dissolved into code once again.

The rules scrolled in.

MATCH THE TRUE FROM THE FALSE.

THREE STRIKES = FORFEIT.

Images appeared. One by one.

—His 6th birthday cake.

—A hospital room.

—A girl's voice saying "I love you."

—A face. Unfamiliar. But smiling.

—A night sky, filled with falling embers.

Then the voice again.

"Choose. What's real?"

His breath caught.

Because he didn't know.

He tried to remember the girl's face. Her name. The sound of her laugh. Nothing.

Strike one.

The cake. Too bright. Too perfect.

Strike two.

One choice left.

The embers in the sky. The strange memory that felt like a dream—but stirred something real.

He picked it.

Correct.

Relief flooded him—but only for a moment.

Because now he saw something added to the wall in his room.

Another line of warped text, burned into the wallpaper.

"What you remember can be taken. What you forget belongs to us."

The round ended.

The darkness peeled away like torn wallpaper, revealing the dim light of Alec's capsule flat. His HUD recalibrated. His hands were shaking.

[You Win – Round 2 Complete]

Reward Unlocked: Memory Restoration – Tier 1]

Memory Recovered: "The Girl at the River"]

Suddenly, he wasn't in the room.

He was on a wooden bridge.

The air was warm. Summer. Buzzing cicadas in the background. A small river shimmered below, lazy and golden.

And someone was laughing.

A girl, maybe fifteen, stood beside him, hair tied back with a red ribbon. She flicked water from her hands and splashed his face.

"You said you'd never forget me," she said.

His mouth opened, but he had no words.

Because this wasn't déjà vu.

This was real.

He could smell the wet grass. Feel the splinter in the bridge's railing. Hear the exact shape of her voice.

And the worst part?

He had no idea who she was.

The image snapped.

He was back in his room, breathless.

The HUD pulsed with a single line of data:

[Memory Recovered. Loss Score Rebalanced.]

Then, below it:

[Do Not Forget Her Again.]

He scrambled to his console, trying to record what he'd seen—hair, voice, ribbon, the water. But already it was fading. The girl's name was slipping through him like sand.

His HUD pinged again.

[Vera//Null has sent you a private message.]

He opened it.

Vera//Null:

They gave you back something. Didn't they?

Alec:

Yes. A girl. I don't know who she is. I think I loved her.

Vera//Null:

She's your anchor.

Alec:

What does that mean?

Vera//Null:

We all lost someone in our first forgotten round. The Terminal takes what makes you human first—

Then it uses it to make sure you keep playing.

Alec:

Why would anyone keep playing after that?

Vera was silent for a long time.

Then:

Vera//Null:

Because if you win enough rounds, you can get it all back.

Even her.

The screen flickered.

A new line of system text appeared beneath their chat.

[Next Challenge – Offline Mode Enabled.]

You will meet your opponent in person.

Instructions will arrive in 00:05:00.

Alec's blood turned to ice.

Offline?

The Terminal was coming out of the screen.

Into the real world.

Into him.

[00:00:00]

Challenge Now Live.

Alec's HUD went dark.

No timer. No map. No guidance. Just silence.

Then—a knock.

Again.

Slow. Deliberate. Four times.

Alec stood frozen, heart hammering. The last time he opened the door, it had left him with a card and a scar in his memory.

This time, when he opened it—

A boy stood there.

Maybe his age. Pale skin. All-black clothes. A sleek ring glowing faintly blue on his left hand. And a neck tattoo of a number:

027

The boy smiled, polite and deadly.

"You're Alec."

Not a question.

"I'm your offline match. First contact. Let's walk."

Alec hesitated. "Who are you?"

The boy turned, already walking down the corridor.

"You can call me Numb3r3d. I'm what happens when you stop being scared of dying."

Outside, the world didn't feel real. The sky was a dull orange-gray, somewhere between sunset and glitch. Cars passed, faces blank behind windshields. No one looked up.

"Where are we going?" Alec asked.

"To a place the game controls," Numb3r3d said. "Your part of the challenge is simple. You follow."

"Follow to where?"

Numb3r3d stopped at a door marked [NO ENTRY – STORAGE ONLY] and turned to face him.

"To the memory vault."

He scanned his ring over the panel. The door clicked open.

Inside: black stairs leading down. Cold air drifted up, smelling of damp paper and static.

Numb3r3d looked back once. "You can still back out. But if you do, they'll erase something else."

Alec clenched his fists.

"I want her back."

Numb3r3d smiled. "Good answer.

The vault wasn't a room.

It was a labyrinth.

Walls of old monitors buzzed faintly, playing flickers of people's lives—glimpses, out-of-context. Birthdays. Breakups. Screams. Faces blurred or blank.

At the center stood a pedestal. Two chairs.

And on the screen above: Round 3 – The Memory War

RULES:

> Sit. Link. Survive.

> One of you will lose a core memory. The other will gain it.

> No lies. No mercy.

Numb3r3d sat first. Calm.

Alec sat across.

The system latched onto them—something cold sliding into his temple like data entering bone.

A voice echoed.

"What is your most painful memory?"

Numb3r3d smiled like he'd been waiting for this.

"When I was ten, my sister vanished after playing this game. I tried to find her. I even joined. But I forgot her name the second I hit 'accept.'"

He leaned closer. "Your turn."

Alec hesitated. His throat clenched.

"I… I don't remember her name. But I remember her eyes. And how she looked at me. Like I mattered."

The pedestal buzzed.

Initiating Exchange…

Alec screamed. The room twisted.

Suddenly—

He saw her. Clearer than ever.

The bridge.

The ribbon.

Her name.

Mara.

He gasped. "Her name is Mara!"

Across from him, Numb3r3d opened his eyes—and smiled.

"I remember her too now," he whispered. "Which means she's no longer just yours."

The game had split the memory between them.

Ownership was no longer personal.

It was a prize.

Alec stumbled out of the vault like he was drunk on static.

His skull buzzed. His heart thrashed.

Mara.

He had her name again.

Half of it, at least.

The other half was in Numb3r3d's head. And from the way the boy grinned, he knew exactly what that meant.

"You want more of her?" Numb3r3d said, stretching like the round had been nothing more than a casual workout. "Then come to the next auction. She's in demand."

Alec blinked. "Auction?"

"Memories get stolen, traded, and sold. Some of us hoard. Some of us sell. Some of us destroy what others still love."

He tossed a card toward Alec.

[PLAYER AUCTION – TONIGHT – 3:00 A.M.]

Location: Hidden]

Entry: 1 Memory Wager Minimum.

Alec's stomach twisted. "What happens to the memories?"

Numb3r3d gave a soft laugh. "Depends who buys them. Some collectors just want nostalgia. Others erase them permanently."

"Why would anyone do that?"

He stepped closer.

"Because in The Terminal, love is power. And power's always a target."

Then he was gone.

3:00 A.M.

The location changed three times in Alec's HUD. Finally, it stabilized: an abandoned VR theater near the edge of the city, all flickering lights and rotten glass.

Inside, the floor was a pit of flickering screens, lined with faceless bidders cloaked in digital smoke. Floating memory-cores—like glowing spheres—hovered above a central podium. Each one pulsed like a heartbeat.

The auctioneer appeared—a woman with mirrored eyes and no voice. Just typed commands that bled into the air.

[LOT 23: First Kiss – Value: 2 Hours of Life]

[LOT 24: Father's Last Words – Value: 8 Hours of Life]

[LOT 25: The Girl by the River – Name: MARA – Incomplete Fragment]

Alec's blood froze.

She was up for bid.

Not her picture.

Not her voice.

Just her name.

Just her memory.

Someone next to him raised a hand.

The bid read: [8 Years of Life]

Alec's lungs caved in.

He had to stop it.

But all he had to offer was himself.