As the light from the neural link faded, Kainen felt the familiar sensation of the pod's suspension gel surrounding his body. The phantom weight of the shadow bde still lingered in his hand, a ghostly reminder of the virtual world he had just left. The pod lid hissed open, releasing a rush of cool air, and Kainen opened his eyes to find the sterile white lights of the clinic ceiling staring back at him. He sat up slowly, wiping a hand across his face as his mind finished reconnecting to the real world.

  ==============================

  SESSION TERMINATED.

  ==============================

  A small diagnostic panel flickered to life beside the pod, dispying a series of messages in a cool, blue font.

  ==============================

  Neural Link Stable.

  ==============================

  ==============================

  No Cognitive Desynchronization Detected.

  ==============================

  Kainen swung his legs over the edge first, movements deliberate and quiet, already reaching for the folded towel on the side rail. He wiped the thick, translucent residue from his forearms in slow, practiced strokes, the gel clinging stubbornly before sliding away in glistening ropes. Across the chamber, another pod burst open with all the grace of a dropped crate. Rori shot upright, spttering gel in a wide arc that caught the overhead lights like falling diamonds. She ripped the neural connectors from her temples with a satisfied yank, pink hair pstered wildly to her cheeks and neck.

  "OH MY GOD THAT WAS AWESOME," she bellowed, voice bouncing off the curved walls. Several pyers still linked in their open pods turned their heads—some startled, some annoyed—but Rori was already grinning wide enough to show fang, completely oblivious or indifferent. "Did you see that guy's face when the shadow bde hit him? Holy shit, I thought he was gonna cry."

  Kainen didn't look up from drying his hands. He simply tossed a second towel in a zy arc toward her. Try to remember we're in public, he thought, already bracing for the inevitable chaos.

  She snatched it out of the air without breaking stride. "Public can deal with it," she muttered through the fabric as she scrubbed at her hair, still ughing under her breath.

  A third pod opened more gently, the seal releasing with a softer sigh. Lira sat up slowly, blinking against the sudden brightness of the real world. Her fingers flexed and curled, still remembering the tension of the bowstring, the faint phantom ache of drawing it taut. She stared at her palms for a long second.

  "...I actually hit him," she murmured, almost to herself. I didn't miss, she thought, the realization settling in like warm sunlight.

  Rori spun toward her like a missile finding a lock. "You did!" She jabbed a triumphant finger in Lira's direction. "Told you the sliders weren't lying—you're a natural."

  Kainen gnced over, offering the smallest upward curve of his mouth. "Good shot."

  Lira looked down at her hands again, a shy smile finally breaking through the lingering surprise. "I thought I was going to miss."

  Rori snorted. "You were going to miss—" She caught Kainen's ft warning gnce mid-sentence and pivoted smoothly. "...You were doing great. Like, really great."

  The clinic attendant behind the curved terminal finally spoke up, voice calm and practiced. "Please remember to rinse off before leaving the pod room."

  Rori waved the towel dismissively without turning. "Yeah, yeah."

  Kainen was already moving toward the locker bank, pulling on a loose bck jacket over his damp undershirt. He zipped it halfway, leaned one shoulder against the cool metal, and let his gaze drift across the room. "We should stay logged out for a bit." We just killed two Guild agents in the tutorial zone, he thought. This is going to be a paperwork nightmare... if we're lucky.

  Rori groaned dramatically, dragging the sound out until it echoed. "Boooo."

  Kainen didn't rise to the bait. "You just killed two Hunter's Guild agents."

  Rori's grin came back like a sunrise. "They started it."

  Lira had climbed fully out of her pod now, towel clutched to her chest. She paused mid-step, voice quieter. "...Do you think they'll come after us?"

  Kainen considered the question for half a heartbeat. "Yes."

  Rori's grin faltered for the first time. "...Seriously?"

  He nodded once. "Yes."

  Lira's brows drew together. "Like... ban us?"

  Kainen exhaled through his nose. "Unlikely."

  Rori tilted her head. "Then what?"

  His expression settled into something harder, more tired. "Probably investigate."

  Rori stared at him for a beat, then shrugged and pointed finger-guns at Lira. "Worth it."

  Lira shook her head, a nervous ugh bubbling out despite herself. "I still can't believe we did that five minutes after character creation."

  Rori pumped her fist once, gel still dripping from her elbow. "Speedrun!!!"

  Kainen allowed himself the faintest smirk—the kind that barely touched his eyes. "Let's just hope we didn't break the tutorial." Or the entire server's moderation queue, he thought dryly.

  Rori and Lira drifted toward the communal bath wing, still buzzing with post-fight adrenaline, voices overpping in a bright tangle of excitement and disbelief. Kainen lingered a moment longer by the lockers, watching their backs disappear around the corner. The clinic lights hummed overhead, steady and indifferent.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, the gesture almost unconscious.

  They'd won the skirmish.

  But the war—the real one—had just noticed them.

  And in Neo-Yokohama, once the Hunter's Guild noticed you...

  ...it never really looked away.