The rest of the week at Oakridge Academy had been surprisingly normal.
The peanut butter sandwich trade in the cafeteria on project day had officially cemented Chris as part of their group. By the time the final bell rang on Friday, they had already made plans for the weekend. Chris had mentioned he had never been to a real California arcade since moving from Boston, and Jake insisted they had to show him the best one in the city.
Which was exactly how they ended up here on a Saturday afternoon.
The Starlight Arcade was loud, crowded, and smelled exactly like cheap pepperoni pizza and ozone.
For a ten-year-old in 1992, it was paradise.
Neon lights flashed across the dark, patterned carpet. The air was filled with the electronic bleeps and heavy bass of dozens of arcade cabinets running at the same time.
Donovan, Jake, and Chris were standing by the token machine, holding plastic cups full of shiny gold coins.
"This is the best Saturday ever," Chris said, his eyes wide as he looked around at the endless rows of games. "My mom never lets me come here. She says it's too loud."
"It is too loud. That's why it's awesome," Jake grinned, tossing a token into the air and catching it. "Where are we starting? Racing games or shooting games?"
"Fighting games," Donovan said, pointing toward a crowd gathered around a specific cabinet in the center of the room. "I need to warm up my hands."
They walked over to a *Street Fighter II* machine. Jake and Chris decided to go grab some nachos from the snack bar first, leaving Donovan at the joysticks.
Donovan dropped his token in and picked Ryu. In his past life, he had been a massive gamer. He didn't need any cosmic intelligence to be good at this; he just naturally understood the timing of the buttons, the hitboxes, and how to block.
He played a few rounds against some random kids. He wasn't completely destroying them or trying to show off. He let them win a few rounds, laughed when he missed a combo, and was just genuinely enjoying the simple thrill of mashing colorful buttons.
"Jake told me you're making a cartoon," Chris said, walking back over with a paper tray of nachos covered in bright orange cheese. Jake was right behind him, drinking a massive soda.
Donovan kept his eyes on the screen, throwing a digital fireball. "Yeah. It's about pirates."
Chris's eyes lit up. "Are there going to be fights? Like this?" He pointed at the arcade screen with a nacho.
"Lots of them," Donovan smiled. "Swords, superpowers, giant sea monsters. The whole thing."
"Jake said you're hiring real actors for the voices," Chris said, practically bouncing on his heels. He bumped Jake's shoulder. "I want to do it too! I can be a pirate!"
Donovan paused the game in his head for a second, glancing over at his new friend. Chris had this pure, unending energy that was actually contagious.
"It's an action show, Chris," Donovan laughed. "You have to be able to scream really loud. Like, fighting-for-your-life loud."
Chris immediately puffed out his chest. He stood in the middle of the noisy arcade, struck a dramatic superhero pose, and let out a hilarious, high-pitched battle cry.
"Haaaaah! Take that, sea monster!" Chris yelled.
Jake burst out laughing, almost spilling his soda. Donovan chuckled, shaking his head.
"Keep practicing the battle cries, Boston," Donovan smiled. "When the script is ready, I'll bring you and Jake to the studio to test some voices."
Chris high-fived Jake, completely thrilled. "Yes! We're gonna be famous pirates!"
Just then, a small hand reached out and placed a shiny token on the glass of Donovan's arcade cabinet. It was the universal arcade rule for *Winner Stays, I'm Next*.
Donovan looked to his side.
Standing there was a girl. She looked a little younger than him, maybe seven or eight years old. She had messy blonde hair, bright, sharp eyes, and was wearing a slightly oversized denim jacket.
She didn't look shy at all. She looked like she was there to win.
"You're pretty good," she said, nodding at the screen. "But you leave your guard down after you kick."
Donovan raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused. "Oh yeah? You think you can do better?"
She smirked, dragging a plastic milk crate over so she could comfortably reach the joysticks. She climbed onto it and pressed the start button. "Pick your guy."
She selected Chun-Li. Donovan stuck with Ryu.
The announcer on the screen yelled, *"Round One... Fight!"*
Donovan went easy on her for the first five seconds, assuming she was just going to mash random buttons. He was entirely wrong.
She immediately dashed forward, sweeping his character's legs and trapping him in the corner. She was aggressively mashing the kick button, but with surprising rhythm.
Donovan leaned forward, a huge, genuine smile spreading across his face. He actually had to try now.
For the next ten minutes, they didn't say a word to each other. They were completely focused on the screen. It was pure, unfiltered childhood fun. When Donovan landed a heavy combo, she would groan and playfully bump her shoulder against his arm. When she managed to counter his attacks, she would laugh out loud, a bright, competitive sound.
They tied the first two rounds. It all came down to the final match.
Both of their characters were on a sliver of health. Donovan went for a jumping punch, but she completely read his movement. She hit the heavy kick button, knocking Ryu out of the air.
*"K.O.!"* the machine announced.
The girl threw her hands in the air in victory, almost losing her balance on the milk crate.
"Yes!" she cheered, looking at Donovan with a massive, triumphant grin. "Told you!"
Donovan couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't mad at all. It was the most fun he had had all week. "Okay, okay, you got me. That was a lucky kick, though."
"Skill," she corrected him playfully, hopping off the crate. There was something strangely comfortable about her presence. It felt like they had known each other forever, even though they had just met. She gave his shoulder a playful shove. "Next time, I won't go easy on you."
"We'll see about that," Donovan grinned, giving her a friendly bump back.
She was about to put another token in for a rematch, but a woman's voice called out from the ticket prize counter across the room.
"Scarlett! We have to go! Come on, we're going to be late for dinner!"
The blonde girl—Scarlett—sighed dramatically. "Man. I was just warming up, too."
"Next time," Donovan smiled, stepping back to give her room.
She looked at him, her sharp eyes sparkling with a fun, competitive fire. She began walking backward toward the exit, still smiling.
"Keep practicing your blocking," she teased, waving a hand. "See ya, Player Two!"
"See ya," Donovan replied, raising a hand in farewell.
He watched her disappear into the crowd of shouting kids and flashing neon lights. He turned back to the arcade machine, about to call Jake and Chris over.
But suddenly, the entire world seemed to stop.
The noise of the arcade—the bleeps, the bass, the laughter—all faded into a dull, distant hum.
It was a feeling. A faint echo in the deepest part of his eternal soul.
It was her.
Not just the seven-year-old girl in the denim jacket. But *her*.
His cosmic intelligence, usually perfectly under control, suddenly went wild. It began pulling a memory from the most protected, locked-away part of his mind. A memory from before this Earth, before the Prime Entity, before the merging of the two souls.
A memory of the advanced cosmic civilization he had once ruled.
A memory of a tragic, beautiful, lost face. A face that had just looked at him with those same sharp, bright eyes.
It was her reencarnation.
Donovan stood completely still in front of the flashing *Street Fighter II* cabinet. His heart, his very human, ten-year-old heart, was pounding so hard it hurt.
He knew it with absolute certainty. The soul that had just been laughing, mashing the Chun-Li kick button, and playfully bumping his shoulder was the newly reborn soul of his lost love. His wife from a past eternity.
She was back.
But as the initial, overwhelming shock passed, a heavy, devastating wave of sadness washed over him.
He looked back at the arcade entrance, but she was long gone.
He felt his divine power surging within him, a wild instinct wanting to break free. It wanted to chase after her. It wanted to grab her, to flood her mind with memories, to make her remember who she was, who *they* were.
He could do it. He could unlock her past life in a split second.
But he stopped himself.
He looked at his own ten-year-old hands, covered in a faint smudge of nacho cheese.
She was reborn, yes. But she was a normal little girl now. She had no powers. She had no memories. She had a new life, a new family, a clean slate.
If he forced her to remember the tragedies of their past eternity, he would be destroying the simple happiness she had now. He would be condemning her to carry a burden too heavy for a seven-year-old soul.
He couldn't do that to her. Not again.
Donovan let out a long, silent breath. He closed his human eyes, letting the Surge of emotion within his soul slowly subside back into the controlled calm.
He had to let her go.
In this life, he would protect her from the shadows. He would ensure she was happy and safe. If the universe brought them back together as adults, if they fell in love again for who they were *now*, then that would be a new story. But he would never force her to be the goddess she once was.
He opened his eyes. The lights of the arcade were back. The noise was loud and overwhelming again.
"Hey, Blackwood!" Chris Evans yelled, pulling on his arm. "Let's go play *Ninja Turtles*! I call Leonardo!"
Donovan forced a smile. His soul was aching with an eternity's worth of love and loss, but right now, he was just a ten-year-old kid.
"You always get Leonardo," Donovan laughed, pushing Chris toward the machine. "I'll take Raphael."
He followed his friends toward the massive four-player cabinet glowing in the corner. He grabbed his tokens, ready to eat bad pizza and beat up digital foot ninjas.
But as he put his token in, he couldn't help but glance one more time toward the empty arcade entrance.
He would always remember Player Two. He just hoped, one day, she would be happy.