Episode 11. Player, Sephirah (2)

Eh? You think our first meeting was just a little while ago? No, no. That's your timeline, Aiden. What I mean is… ughhh, where do I even start with this?

……

Ah, right. Do you know what a parallel world is?

You don't? Great. Let me explain.

A parallel world is, put simply, a reality where different choices and histories unfold from what we know. If I hadn't gotten tangled up with you? You'd still be living your normal life right now. Taking on tough mercenary gigs and all that.

If you hadn't met that… friend of yours? Regardless, you would've built a connection with someone other than Claire.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

That's not all. If you hadn't chased after me, if you didn't know about players, if I didn't have these unknown abilities… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠none of this would be happening, right?

For every one of those "ifs," there's another world where different events play out. That's what parallel worlds are.

……

Eh? You mean the "other world" where players come from is one of those places? Uh… y-yeah! Exactly! So that's why I know you so well, but you're only just learning about me now. Something like that. The memories you have about players? They're probably from a version of you in another parallel world… I have no idea why that happened or why it's specifically me you remember like this, though.

Alright! Now I've hammered in the basics you need. Worth all those solo ramblings, huh.

Okay then. Let's rewind through the memories and talk about the day a player was supposed to meet you, Aiden.

The start of the game for any player is always the same. The name or character might differ. Stats or birthplace could vary. Sometimes you even pick from a few different prologues.

But no matter what, it's just minor changes within a fixed framework. You can't defy the predetermined backstory.

It's fate, already set in stone.

So this game always begins with meeting Aiden.

"…Oh, thank the gods. What a relief."

The featureless cave in the snowfield. The place where the prologue kicks off alongside the game itself. The spot where players—and Sephirah—first gain control of their character. It's also packed with tutorials, text, and sounds.

The first thing she saw was Aiden's face. The first voice she heard was his sigh of relief.

'A medieval open-world game starting with the protagonist coming to and the side character talking to them… takes me back, ugh.'

Sephirah back then muttered to herself as she struggled to prop herself up on thin arms. Loud enough that anyone with half a brain would've heard.

Of course, Aiden didn't. Back then, he was just a plain old NPC.

She followed the system prompts that floated even with her eyes closed. Standard motion checks mandatory for all VR media. VR glitches or congenital issues leaving people immobile were common enough—and deadly. There were even urban legends about starvation in VR that turned out true.

Fail the tutorial by just sitting there, and you'd get booted from the game.

But Aiden's dialogue had already started.

"You're awake. Can you hear me?"

"……?"

She picked a dialogue option, but the character's mouth didn't move. Startled, she looked down—wrapped in a blanket, no gender visible yet. Character background still uncustomized.

Conveniently, Aiden took her vague response as a "yes."

"I'm so, so glad you're awake. I had no clue how to get you to safety. Was debating leaving you to fetch help."

Whoooosh.

The wind sound amped up from afar, sharp like a storm. A hint that carrying her out alone from this remote spot might've been too late. Deliberate volume tweak.

"You still seem unsteady. Even so… no, maybe I shouldn't pry, but what happened? Losing consciousness in a place like this."

That jogged Sephirah's memory of the pre-prologue cutscene: protagonist beaten and robbed blind in a blinding snowstorm. No clue how it happened—even the player who should know best was in the dark.

"Going out now's risky anyway… Could you tell me your story?"

Dazed and pondering solo, Sephirah snapped to at the NPC's words. This was the customization phase. Protagonist's identity, gender, skills, voice, looks—all decided now.

"Rest like that, and you'll be able to move again soon."

A long rectangular system window popped up. Pick a category, and options filled the bottom. Tweak to define the protagonist fully.

Customization. Routine even before trying VR.

'Hmm.'

Name: Sephirah, her go-to nickname forever.

Gender: Warning about restricted senses if differing from reality, so she stuck with female. Body differences were a hassle.

Background: Seemed to decide backstory and reason for passing out in the snowfield. No story interest, so random pick.

And then…

'…Alright. Let's spend some time on this.'

Appearance next. Thirty minutes flew by before she neared finishing.

Sephirah had a standard character look. Not uniquely hers, but consistent for customizable protags: star-flecked pupils, yellow-white hair, bright impression. Red hair if styles didn't allow—but this game's hair wouldn't go red no matter what.

Appearance done. Skimmed build and voice—exhausted interest, just wanted to finish.

Yes. Done sloppily, she remembered Aiden—nodding satisfied. Must've counted as introductions during customization.

"That's awful. I'm sorry that happened."

Aiden expressed sympathy per her background—robbed in prologue. Not caring about fake backstory, but nice voice acting from a popular VA.

"Well then… now we really should head back. Was planning to anyway."

Fwoosh.

Wind volume dropped meaningfully. From full-body blizzard to head-deep snow.

Aiden stood right on cue—not just the player hearing it.

"How's your body? Can you move?"

Crack.

Sephirah swung her arms—ominous bone pops. Stopped before dislocation. Starting HP under half, vision frosty from scant blanket in snowfield. Torch in hand, Aiden approached.

"…We'll talk more later."

We should hurry.

Quietly handing over a dagger named "Borrowed." Obvious temp prologue weapon, solid stats.

Reading the system, she took it—quest appeared.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Sephirah stared at the system and Aiden. His face glancing at her protagonist, cold breath visible. Breathing animation detailed—focus and you heard it, saw the subtle shifts. Indistinguishable from real people visually now.

"Let's move."

But he couldn't say her name. Just a milestone guiding the player.

"…Yeah."

She followed the milestone.

"So after you escorted me to the village and saved my life like that… we became friends. Helping each other out and stuff."

Story wrapped. Aiden's face darkened, struggling with player concepts—though she hadn't mentioned customization or quests.

"So your attitude from our first meeting…?"

"Right? Kinda. I figured you wouldn't know me, but pretending not to would've been weird."

"…Makes sense."

Sephirah paused post-explanation. Checking if Aiden followed her best-effort rundown—dragging in parallel worlds to explain players and loops without saying "game."

A player bad at words talking to a soulless NPC. Normally absurd from the start.

"Sephirah."

"Yeah?"

"Being close to me… were the other players like that too?"

"Other…"

But the game defied common sense again. The mere NPC fully grasped an out-of-worldview tale.

"Yeah, players always meet you. Different players, but the meeting's fixed. After that, kill or befriend—up to them."

Aiden stiffened at "kill or befriend." Bad early memories resurfaced. Without later normal ones, he'd still distrust players fully.

"Anyway, that's the three-year backstory. Thoughts?"

"Three years? Then my age…"

"Thoughts?"

"…Way too detached from reality."

"So you don't believe me?"

"As if."

Aiden shook his head. Too far-fetched, but he wouldn't doubt someone he'd summoned here.

At least, meeting players let Aiden shake the grim thought he was hallucinating.

"So… more questions? Or stories you wanna hear? I got some."

"Too many. Need time to think."

"Ah, fair. How long exactly? This chat's kinda fun, honestly."

"Specifically… not sure."

Hours to sort thoughts? He'd need time to verify understanding. Maybe sleep on it—forcing Sephirah to stay.

"What's wrong? I can't stay?"

Sephirah's eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sparkled at his concern.

"I'd love more tomorrow—as long as you don't drag me off as a criminal."

"Won't go back?"

"Players are wanderers with nowhere to go anyway."

"Someone's waiting for you."

"Huh…?"

Sephirah tilted her head, excitement unchanged—genuinely clueless.

Aiden didn't know players well, but Sephirah had a place: her ajiit, Loqi waiting.

"…Ah!"

She remembered late. Like self-imposed quests limiting free players, she'd made a home base. With Aiden's guard down, ajiit accessible again—find Loqi, reclaim peaceful mornings.

"Hmmmmm…"

Issue: Sephirah was more intrigued by Aiden than anything now. Player deciding actions on whims alone.

'This is more fun.'

Aiden and Sephirah locked eyes. Awkwardly long, wordless.

Leaving wouldn't end talks—could resume anytime. But if she stuck closer, raised Aiden like a companion? Post-free dialogue shift, closest NPC for max fun—Aiden?

'Definitely.'

Sephirah decided inwardly. As she moved to act—

"…Found you."

Loqi's voice came from behind her.