Seb had to be honest with himself.
The first word that popped into his head when he saw her was beautiful.
"Hi, I'm Sheila," she said, her voice light and feathery.
Wow.
What a cutie.
"Hi." Seb gave an awkward little wave. "Give me a second—let me switch to my computer."
"Sure," David said, popping into frame beside her. "I'll do the same."
A moment later the call refreshed.
The larger screen gave Seb a much clearer view.
Sheila leaned closer to her camera.
"Oh wow," she said. "He's so young. You weren't joking."
Seb felt something inside him shrivel.
Ah yes.
The wonderful sensation of being demasculinized on camera.
A rare experience.
Hopefully a once-in-a-lifetime one.
David squinted at the screen.
"Wait… he isn't that young. Fourteen, right?"
Sebastian resisted the urge to reach through the screen and punch him.
"Fourteen is young," Sheila argued. "That's around my baby sister's age."
"You mean younger," Seb corrected.
She shook her head stubbornly.
Seb decided to end the discussion before it turned into a full TED Talk about adolescence.
But one correction was necessary.
"For the record, I'm fifteen. Turning sixteen this year."
"Oh." Sheila blinked. "So… three years younger than us. You're entering college this year then?"
Seb nodded.
"Still young though," she added.
Seb exhaled sharply.
Fantastic.
Even the compliment came with an age disclaimer.
"Well, even if he's young, he's a genius," David said proudly. "Though he's terrible at math for some reason."
"Oh, I can relate to that," Sheila laughed.
"You two sound pretty close," Seb muttered.
David grinned.
"Yeah. We're dating."
Of course you are, Seb thought.
He leaned back in his chair.
"What about Aria?"
David's smile vanished instantly.
"You noticed my old number's gone, right?" he said. "That girl… if I'd known what she was like, I never would've dated her."
Seb blinked.
He had always assumed the breakup had been friendly. David used to talk about her constantly. Back then he sounded happy.
"What happened?"
"She's fucked up," Sheila said from beside David, folding her arms. "Getting dumped sucks, sure. But stalking the guy afterward? That's just crazy."
David groaned.
"She kept calling me everywhere."
Seb frowned.
"You've never heard of blocking someone?"
"I tried. She somehow unblocked herself."
"…What?"
"I even changed phones and numbers," David continued, rubbing his temples. "Still happens. The phone company said nothing was wrong."
Seb let out a low whistle.
"Sounds like you dated a hacker."
David grimaced in agreement.
"So that's why you didn't answer my calls," Seb said.
"You called?" David raised an eyebrow. "Guess you needed something."
Before Seb could answer, Sheila stood up.
"Gotta go."
She leaned down and kissed David on the cheek, then waved toward the camera.
"Bye, Seb."
She even blew him a playful kiss before walking off-screen.
Seb stared at David for a moment.
"You sure that one isn't wild too?"
David shook his head firmly.
"Nope. Sheila's peaceful."
"Sure," Seb said with a crooked smile. "That's what you said about Aria too. Look how that turned out."
He reached for his water bottle and took a slow sip.
"So," he said, "why did you call?"
David rubbed the back of his neck.
"Right. Let me explain."
The explanation took a while, but the main point was simple.
David's cousin had built a game.
A big one.
But it was full of bugs that needed fixing before the next major update.
And time was running out.
If they missed the launch window, their biggest competitor would release first and crush them.
"Oh," Seb said slowly. "What's the game called?"
He glanced toward the side of his screen. Thinking about games reminded him of the one he had just downloaded earlier.
Playing it right now would be rude though.
And this was his first login.
First logins were sacred.
Mistakes during those felt like committing tax fraud in a tutorial zone.
"It's called Paragon."
Seb froze.
"Paragon?"
David returned to the screen holding a small notebook.
"Yeah. You know it?"
Seb leaned forward slightly.
"Full name Paragon: Wars of the Fallen?"
David grinned.
"Yep. So you've played it?"
"Not yet," Seb said. "But I literally just downloaded it."
David blinked.
"Well… that makes things easier."
Seb frowned.
"Wait. Why ask me? Why not hire professionals? Wouldn't they fix things faster?"
The game wasn't small.
From what Seb knew, it had launched only a few months ago and was already one of the most played games online—and that was still during beta.
David sighed.
"That's the problem."
He leaned closer to the camera, lowering his voice.
"Their competitor wants to sabotage them."
Seb raised an eyebrow.
"If they give the code to some random contractor, it could leak," David continued. "These guys are new to the industry. They don't know who to trust."
"So they trust you instead."
"Exactly."
"And you trust me."
David shrugged.
"More than most people."
Seb smirked.
"What about your girlfriend? You don't trust her?"
David waved the idea away immediately.
"She's busy. And my other friends?" He snorted. "Half of them would probably sell me out for the right price."
Seb wasn't entirely sure those people counted as friends.
Still…
"Alright," Seb said finally. "I'll help."
He leaned back in his chair.
"But I'm not working for free."
David laughed.
"Relax. They're rich. You'll get paid."
"That's good."
"The only reason they didn't hire professionals," David added, "is because they don't know how deep the competitor's pockets go. One wrong hire and their data could be gone."
Seb nodded slowly.
"Yeah… that makes sense."
His gaze drifted away from the screen.
Some families could rival corporations in wealth.
Others…
Well.
They were just others.
Never heard.
Never seen.
Worth less than background NPCs.
"So when are you free?" David asked, scribbling something down.
Seb ran a hand through his hair and opened his planner.
He was pretty sure he was free.
But checking never hurt.
Just as he closed it, his eyes narrowed.
Right.
The family trip.
"…Oh, bollocks."
"What?" David asked.
"I might be busy next week," Seb admitted. "Tomorrow and the day after I'm free. After that I won't be around in person."
He leaned back and scratched his ear.
"Will that work?"
He hoped it would.
Helping with a major game would look great on his CV.
Right now he had three paths in mind.
Join an IT company through an internship.
Enter a good university—Eco was his top choice. Fantastic for robotics and programming, two fields he actually cared about.
And the last option…
The army.
Yes.
He still considered it.
Part of him hoped he might find answers about his father there.
Even if the chances were slim.
David rubbed his chin.
"…Yeah. That should work."
Seb relaxed slightly.
"How about this," David said. "Tomorrow and Sunday you come with me to meet the client. My cousin."
"Sure," Seb said.
Then he paused.
"Wait—tomorrow or Sunday?"
"Both. They might want to hang out with you. Amanda definitely will. Not sure about Erick."
Seb tilted his head.
"You mentioned two people. Are they both your cousins?"
"Yeah."
David glanced somewhere off-screen.
"You'll meet them tomorrow. Maybe you'll even like one of them."
Seb snorted.
"Sure."
"I've gotta go," David said. "I'll text you the location."
"Alright. See you tomorrow."
The call ended.
Seb leaned back in his chair.
His gaze drifted toward the game icon on his screen.
Paragon: Wars of the Fallen.
He hesitated.
Maybe he should wait for the full release.
Peak experience.
Fewer bugs.
Less emotional damage.
…
Nah.
He was literally about to help fix the game.
Might as well try it first.
He clicked Play.
The game launched with a cinematic.
A virus had descended on the planet, wiping out billions.
Those who survived… changed.
Some became Lost Souls—half-dead beings trapped between life and death.
Others mutated, gaining strange powers but losing their sanity.
A few were called the Blessed, humans capable of capturing wandering spirits and binding them into weapons or abilities.
And then there were the Mundanes.
Ordinary survivors.
Seb leaned closer to the screen.
Two additional classes appeared in the selection menu.
Locked.
Revenants.
Spirits.
Unavailable for now.
The gameplay was first-person survival.
Exploration.
Puzzles.
Combat.
Seb considered the options carefully.
Then he chose.
For the beta, he'd play as a female character.
He'd switch to male when the full game launched.
However, as he played he realized the graphics were incredible.
Seeing this…
He might just stick with her.
Hours passed before he noticed.
He only stopped when his mother walked in.
"Sebastian! Aren't you packing?" she said, clearly unimpressed.
"…Right. Sorry."
She sighed and left, closing the door behind her.
Seb logged off quickly and jumped to his feet.
Then came the packing.
Which quickly turned into chaos.
Find a shirt.
Lose the socks.
Find the socks.
Lose the shirt.
Ten minutes later, Seb had packed exactly one sock and somehow unpacked everything else.
He held up the sock.
The missing one, It had been hiding at the bottom of his bag the entire time.
His once half-packed suitcase now looked like a crime scene where several innocent pieces of clothing had clearly lost the fight.
Seb stared at the mess.
"…Great."
His door opened.
His mother stepped inside and immediately sighed when she saw the disaster.
"Just go downstairs and eat," she said. "I'll take care of it."
Seb felt embarrassed and tried to argue, but she shut him down instantly.
So he walked downstairs, sulking.
A few minutes later his mother followed.
His aunt was already sitting at the table.
She looked exhausted.
Her eyes were red like she had been crying.
First his mother gave her a long look.
Then she reached over and rubbed her sister's head.
Being the older sister was clearly a full-time job.
"Next week we're going to New York," his mother said. "We'll probably stay two or three weeks, so make sure you've cleared things with your friends, Seb."
"Three weeks?" Seb blurted.
That was far longer than he'd been told.
That was almost half a semester.
"Isn't two weeks enough?" Aunt June asked quietly while picking at her vegetables.
She didn't seem to have the strength to eat.
"You know how they are," Seb's mother replied. "The old man's dying, and the wealth in that will is massive. According to you, anyway."
Apparently his aunt had a number of insiders feeding her information.
Seb wasn't sure how she managed it.
June shrugged.
"So it'll take time. Especially since he likes playing games with people. Wouldn't surprise me if he drags everyone into a little inheritance war."
June sighed and dropped her fork.
"You're looking even more miserable than last time," Seb's mother said. "What happened? Did he divorce you?"
Seb perked up.
"That's what I asked."
Both women shot him a sharp look.
Seb immediately lowered his head and continued eating.
Message received.
Shut up.
"Let me guess," his mother continued. "He caught you drinking again? Or did you break something this time?"
June shook her head.
"Just drinking…"
Her voice trembled like she was about to cry again.
Seb watched quietly.
In his very professional opinion—which he considered extremely reliable—this was the definition of crocodile tears.
"I woke up on the bed," June continued weakly. "Tucked in… even though I slept on the couch. And on the table there was breakfast… and a note saying he was disappointed."
She sniffled loudly.
Seb stared.
That's it?
The guy didn't shout.
Didn't argue.
Just left a note.
And she was crying like he'd filed for divorce and taken the dog.
June kept talking.
At some point she started breaking down completely.
Seb couldn't take it anymore.
He stood up and quietly left.
Back in his room, he sat at his desk and looked through his to-do list.
His eyes stopped on one scribbled word.
Something he had written quickly earlier.
To Ghostly.
"…Oh right."
Seb groaned.
"Damn it. I needed him to check the videos."
Well, whatever.
He'd deal with it tomorrow.
He opened his browser and copied the foreign sentence into a chatbot.
"Tengo mucho miedo en este momento y no sé qué hacer — necesito que alguien me ayude."
He pressed enter.
Instead of a translation, the screen filled with hotline information.
También puedes hablar con alguien ahora mismo en una línea de ayuda:
Samaritans – llama al 116 123 (gratuito, 24 horas).
Shout – envía un mensaje con la palabra SHOUT al 85258 para chatear con un voluntario por texto.
Seb stared at the screen.
"…Bro."
"I meant translate. What the hell is this?"
He typed again.
Translate to English.
This time the result appeared.
"I'm very scared right now and I don't know what to do — I need someone to help me."
Seb leaned back in his chair, hands interlocked.
"…Well," he muttered.
"You don't say."