PRESENT DAY…
Tina City
Sam walked aimlessly through the wide streets, his hands folded behind his head as his gaze drifted lazily toward the sky. A thin veil of clouds drifted across the pale blue canvas, their shapes twisting and reshaping as if mocking his search for meaning.
After a long moment of staring, he let out a tired sigh but didn't slow his pace. His feet carried him forward in a straight line, no clear destination in mind—just movement for movement's sake.
It was the day after Mr. Martins had forced him to take a two-day leave, insisting that he looked like a ghost who hadn't slept in a while. Sam hadn't argued. In truth, he needed this. He needed to walk, to breathe, to remind himself that there was a world beyond shadows and fists, beyond the endless nightmare loops that haunted his nights.
Coming to Tina City, he'd had only one friend—Pete. His coworkers were fine, friendly enough, but they were colleagues, not people he could call at two in the morning. Everyone else? Just passing faces, casual acquaintances at best.
"This past month has been hell," he muttered under his breath, remembering every bruise, every phantom strike that still echoed in his bones even after waking.
After that first terrifying fight with Zorro, Sam had forced himself into a plan, a kind of survival strategy. With Pete's help, he'd drawn up a strict timetable. On his off days, he would visit the game shop for an hour, testing himself against simulations. Then he would train—hundreds of pushups, pullups, squats, and a long run until his lungs burned and his legs refused to move.
It was crude, but it worked.
Sam wasn't built like the heroes in stories—he wasn't born strong, and he hadn't trained under some mystical master. But he was fast, naturally quick on his feet, and now he was shaping that speed with endurance and grit.
Still, there was a cost. The endless battles in his dreams, combined with his punishing routine, left him hollow-eyed. His boss had noticed the haggard look, the way Sam sometimes drifted in and out of focus while stocking shelves. Hence, the forced break.
---
Tina City's Heart
Sam lowered his arms and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he entered the bustling center of Tina City. It was like stepping into another world compared to his quiet neighborhood. The streets here were alive, pulsing with energy.
Vendors lined the sidewalks, their stalls overflowing with bright fabrics, sizzling skewers of meat, and trinkets that caught the light. The smell of grilled food mingled with perfumes and colognes, layered over the faint tang of rain still lingering from the morning drizzle. Street performers played music at the corners—some strumming guitars, others balancing on stilts while children laughed and clapped.
Sam slowed, his eyes scanning the faces that passed. Everyone seemed so alive. Couples walked hand in hand, students carried laptops and sleek tablets, businessmen barked into phones and wrist devices, and tourists took pictures of the old stone fountain at the plaza's center.
He couldn't help but smile faintly. For all its chaos, Tina City had a charm. A pulse. A rhythm that reminded him why he'd stayed here instead of running back to the sleepy town he grew up in.
His stomach growled, breaking the moment. He considered grabbing a skewer from one of the stalls, but then his eyes landed on a familiar storefront at the far end of the street—the game shop.
Sam almost turned away. After all, hadn't he promised himself to take a break from anything game-related? But habit won out, and before he knew it, he was standing at the glass door.
Inside, the familiar hum of machines greeted him. Posters of the latest VR titles decorated the walls, and a soft chime rang as the door swung shut behind him.
And there she was.
Roseline.
The shop's receptionist sat behind the counter, her long black hair tied back neatly, a pair of thin glasses perched on her nose as she typed something into the computer. She was beautiful—not the kind of beauty that toppled worlds or drew every eye in a crowd, but something quieter. A steadiness, like a candle that never flickered even in a storm.
Sam froze for half a heartbeat. They'd spoken plenty of times before—small talk whenever he dropped by the shop—but always in passing. She probably thought of him as just another customer.
"Sam?" Roseline's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She looked up, recognition flickering across her face before she offered a polite smile. "You're here on your day off?"
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. Guess my feet just carried me here. Force of habit."
She chuckled softly, the sound warm but not mocking. "That sounds about right. You practically live here."
"Harsh," Sam replied with a grin. "I do go home sometimes, you know."
"Only sometimes," she teased, adjusting her glasses.
The ice broke, and conversation flowed with ease. They talked about the latest updates in the VR systems, about the competitive players who treated the simulations like real tournaments, and the funny, exaggerated rumors that always seemed to circulate among regulars.
Sam found himself laughing more than he expected, his earlier weariness fading under the lightness of their banter. For once, he wasn't thinking about work or his unrelenting goal.
After a while, Roseline glanced at the clock and leaned back in her chair. "You know, you don't look nearly as tired as the last time I saw you. Did you finally get some rest?"
Sam hesitated. "Sort of. My boss forced me to take two days off. Said I was looking like a zombie."
Her lips curved into a playful smile. "He wasn't wrong."
"Wow. Brutal honesty."
"I call it as I see it."
There was a brief pause, comfortable rather than awkward, before Roseline tilted her head. "Hey, what about your friend? The one who came with you a while ago."
"You mean Pete?"
"I don't know his name. Tall, kind of talkative. You two came in together about a month back."
"Yeah, that's him. Pete. He's probably running an errand or buried in work right now, but he's fine."
Before Roseline could reply, a customer approached the counter, arms full of boxed games.
"Hello, I'd like to pay for these," the woman said.
"Of course," Roseline replied smoothly, giving Sam an apologetic smile before turning her attention to the customer. She scanned the stack, the register chirping with each beep, beep as the prices tallied up. The short exchange grounded the moment, reminding Sam that this was her world—orderly, steady, normal. Something his life hadn't been in a long time.
Once the customer left, Roseline tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked back at him. "So, as you were saying?"
Sam opened his mouth to respond—but a soft vibration buzzed against his thigh. He pulled his phone from his pocket, frowning at the caller ID. Pete.
"Sorry, just a moment," Sam said, holding the phone up in apology before answering.
"Hello?"
"Sam, where are you right now?" Pete's voice came through fast and urgent, like he had run across the city just to make the call. "I have something important to tell you."
Sam glanced at Roseline, then lowered his voice. "Wait, give me a minute. I'll call you back when I'm alone." He ended the call quickly.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he turned to Roseline, his tone apologetic. "I'm so sorry, but I have to go. Something urgent came up."
Roseline's brows knitted with concern. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, yeah—it's fine. At least, I hope so. I just need to check on something. It was nice talking with you."
"Alright. Take care then," she said, her smile faint but genuine.
Sam gave her a small wave before slipping out of the shop and into the cooling evening air. The city lights had begun to glow brighter, neon washing the streets in hues of electric blue and crimson, but Sam hardly noticed. His steps quickened, his mind fixed on Pete's voice.
Within minutes, he reached his apartment. The door creaked open under his push, and he shut it behind him with a soft bang. Tossing his keys onto the table, he pulled out his phone and dialed back.
The line barely rang before Pete picked up.
"Okay, I'm alone now," Sam said, his voice low, tense. "You can talk. What happened?"
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then Pete's voice came, hushed but trembling with excitement.
"Sam… you would not believe what I found out."
*******