Back home, he pushed the door open, and the room was still as it was when he left.
Entering the study, he stood still in front of the game table.
In the corner of the table against the wall were three items: an antidepressant that had been discontinued for half a year, a dust-covered commander simulation glove, and a game console AD22 with a cracked screen.
These three items perfectly summarized his eighteen years of life: lost joy, unrealized expectations, and the digital utopia that eventually housed him.
Since his mother's death, the game had turned from a hobby into oxygen.
With his father not around, reality only brought endless loneliness, so he chose to dive into grand game worlds, experiencing life with alternate identities.
In there, death meant reloading, loss could be recovered, and every problem had a solution.
Unlike reality, there was no hidden level to unlock a special cure for his mother's illness.
