Soma Locke had faced dragons, conquered fortresses, and stared down the most terrifying monsters Ascension Overdrive had to offer.
None of them had prepared him for this.
The convention center was chaos. Music thundered from overhead speakers. Neon advertisements flickered across enormous screens, and thousands of fans crowded the exhibition floor beneath a ceiling of steel beams and blinding lights. Knights jostled with sorcerers, dragons, and people wearing costumes Soma couldn't begin to identify. An eight-foot orc was arguing with a vending machine. Two wizards debated the precise mana cost of a spell that didn't exist.
Directly ahead, a man in a dragon costume had become stuck between two merchandise stalls.
Soma stopped walking.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
He tugged at the collar of the dark tactical jacket he'd bought for the occasion. He'd spent twenty minutes that morning choosing between two nearly identical black shirts. Judging by the crowd, he could have arrived in pajamas and gone unnoticed.
Not that anonymity helped much. Someone's shoulder clipped his arm. A fan shouted beside his ear. The smell of fried food tangled with perfume and warm electronics, and every aisle seemed to lead into a larger, louder aisle.
In a raid, Soma could track a dozen enemies and five teammates without blinking. Here, he wasn't sure which direction the bathrooms were.
Simple problem, he told himself. Locate the guild. Establish a meeting point. Minimize interaction with strangers. Do not retreat to apartment.
His phone vibrated.
[RECLUSIVE AVENGERS — GROUP CHAT]
Buck: WHERE'S MY BOY?!
Miles: Probably hiding in a bathroom.
Milly: Sensible choice.
Ella: Buck, stop shouting. He can read normal messages.
Buck: THIS IS HOW I TYPE.
Soma snorted and typed: Inside. Trying to find you lunatics.
Buck: STAY PUT. WE'RE COMING TO GET YOU.
Soma: That sounds like a threat.
Milly: It is.
He found a place beside an immense Ascension Overdrive promotional display. A painted Harbinger glared out from a backdrop of burning ruins, its skeletal fingers wrapped around a scythe. Beyond the display, a towering three-dimensional replica of the monster stood above the convention crowd.
"Ugly bastard," Soma muttered. "You look worse in person."
A passing cosplayer gave him a startled look.
"Talking to the statue," he explained.
The cosplayer walked faster.
Great. Already making friends.
He looked down at his phone again. His thumb hovered over a message suggesting they meet somewhere quieter, maybe outside, preferably several counties away.
"SOMA!"
He froze. He knew that voice: the laugh on his late-night calls, the teasing in his headphones, the one that had stayed with him during so many lonely evenings. But he'd never heard it without a speaker between them.
He raised his head.
A young woman stood several yards away, staring at him. Vibrant purple hair was arranged into two neat buns, with the rest cascading down her back in glossy waves. Her fitted black convention shirt, violet accents, and dark jeans complemented a striking, curvaceous figure. A few strangers turned to look as she moved.
Soma barely noticed them. He knew the tilt of her head, the bright mischief in her eyes, and the smile that always appeared when she was about to say something outrageous.
"Raven?"
Her smile widened. "You better catch me!"
"Oh, shi—"
She ran and jumped into his arms. He stumbled backward, caught her around the waist, and took an awkward half step to keep them both standing.
"Whoa!"
"Got you!" She laughed against his shoulder.
"You could've warned me!"
"I did."
"Half a second before impact!"
"Sounds like a skill issue, Tactical Klutz."
He laughed. The tight knot in his chest loosened. Raven was here—warm, real, breathing, her arms around his neck and her hair brushing his cheek. Not an image in a video call or a voice over Discord.
She leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. "Hi."
"Hi."
"You're staring."
"So are you."
"I have excellent reasons." She studied his face. "You're even cuter in person."
His ears heated. "You're… incredible."
That stole her words for a moment. Her cheeks reddened before she tucked her face against his shoulder again.
"Missed you," she whispered.
"We talked this morning."
"Not what I meant."
He held her a little tighter. "I know."
For years his apartment had been quiet in a way that made even the refrigerator sound loud. He'd gotten used to seeing the people he loved contained inside rectangles of glass. He hadn't realized how much he missed being able to hold someone.
"WELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!"
Soma closed his eyes. "Oh, no."
"ELLA! GET A PICTURE! OUR BOY'S FINALLY HUGGING A GIRL!"
Raven groaned. "Buck!"
"What? I'm documenting history!"
The approaching man looked capable of lifting the vending machine and the orc who was arguing with it. Buck's shoulders filled his shirt, and his grin seemed physically incapable of fitting on his face. Beside him strode Ella, much shorter, smiling with the patient resignation of a woman who had spent years preventing her husband from creating public incidents.
"There he is," Buck said.
For an instant, the teasing vanished from his voice. He looked at Soma almost cautiously, as if making sure this meeting was real.
"Hey, Buck."
"Nope."
"What?"
"Nope. Not doing that." Buck opened his arms. "Get over here, kid."
Soma barely had time to let go of Raven before Buck folded him into a bear hug.
"MY RIBS!"
"THAT'S MY BOY!"
"BUCK! I NEED THOSE!"
"Put him down," Ella said. "I'd rather not spend our first day together in the emergency room."
Buck loosened his grip, but he kept one enormous hand on Soma's shoulder. His voice dropped until it belonged only to the two of them.
"It's good to finally have you here, son."
Soma went still.
That word had once been ordinary. It had belonged to evenings with his parents, to his father's hand resting briefly on his head, to a home he couldn't return to. He'd learned not to reach for those memories unless he was alone.
He swallowed. "Yeah," he managed. "It's good to be here."
Buck squeezed his shoulder, then stepped back with his usual grin. "Make us wait this long again and I'm dragging your skinny ass out of that apartment myself."
Ella shoved past him. "Move, you overgrown refrigerator. My turn."
Her hug was gentler. Soma returned it without hesitation.
"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured. "Look at you."
"Hey, Ella."
She released him, inspected his face, and immediately frowned. "Have you eaten today?"
"Yes."
"Something besides coffee?"
"…Define eaten."
"BUCK!"
"WE'RE GETTING THE BOY FOOD!"
"Please don't shout," Soma said, laughing. "I had a protein bar."
Buck looked scandalized. "That's not breakfast. That's what breakfast eats when it's on a diet!"
"Are you finished?" asked a voice behind them.
A tall, thin young man stood with two shopping bags and a pair of enormous crimson replica axes. His dark hair looked as though he'd styled it during an electrical storm; the circles beneath his eyes suggested he'd spent the previous night bargaining with sleep and lost.
"Miles?"
The man's eyes widened. "KLUTZ!"
"Oh, not again."
"MY BROTHER!"
Miles charged. His embrace was less a hug than a hostile takeover by an octopus.
"YOU'RE REAL!"
"Unfortunately!" Soma gasped.
"I thought you might be six raccoons running a computer!"
"That would explain the strategies," Buck offered.
"I carried you through the hundredth floor," Soma said.
"Carried me? I handled the critical skeleton!"
"You babysat one undead minion."
"AN ELITE RESPONSIBILITY!"
"It was," a quiet voice said. "For the skeleton."
Milly stood a few steps away with an iced coffee in one hand. Straight dark hair brushed the shoulders of her charcoal hoodie. Her expression was the familiar calm she wore whenever everybody else was losing their minds.
"Hey, Shadow," Soma said.
"Hey, Klutz."
Miles flung out his arms. "THAT'S IT? THAT'S ALL HE GETS?"
Milly looked at him. "Would you prefer I yell?"
Before he could answer, she approached Soma and hugged him. Briefly. Firmly. Completely without ceremony.
"Good to finally see you," she whispered.
He smiled into her shoulder. "You too, Milly."
She stepped away and sipped her coffee.
Miles stared. "YOU HUGGED HIM!"
"Observant."
"YOU DON'T HUG PEOPLE!"
"I make exceptions."
"I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR YEARS!"
"Have you washed your hands?"
Buck laughed so hard he bent at the waist. Miles declared the family toxic, which only made Ella laugh harder. Raven slipped her hand into Soma's again, and Soma looked around at them—his impossible, obnoxious, wonderful people.
Their calls had always sounded like this. But now Buck's shoulders shook when he laughed, Ella hid smiles behind her hand, and Miles seemed to argue with his entire body. Milly, impossibly, was even more intimidating without her assassin's cloak.
"Everything you imagined?" Raven asked.
Soma looked at Buck, who was trying to convince Ella that a second breakfast was a medically responsible decision.
"Honestly? They're worse."
Raven burst into laughter. "So much worse."
"HEY!" Buck and Miles shouted together.
"Food," Ella announced. "Now. Before somebody gets arrested."
They headed toward the food court in a loose, noisy cluster. Raven's fingers were threaded through Soma's, and Miles was attempting to explain why his axes deserved their own seats. Buck was already discussing the merits of chicken wings. Milly offered the occasional merciless observation, each one timed perfectly.
Soma noticed he was no longer checking the exits.
He wasn't planning an escape route or counting the minutes until he could return to his apartment. Somewhere in the last half hour, the crowd had stopped feeling like an ocean ready to swallow him.
A phone buzzed in his pocket: a message from Sarah, the waitress at his favorite wing place.
Don't forget to have fun, Mr. Recluse. And eat actual food.
He smiled, sent back a picture of Buck pointing toward a distant chicken-wing sign, and typed: Apparently I'm surrounded by professionals.
"Come on, Cap!" Miles shouted. "We're losing daylight!"
"We're indoors," Milly said.
"IT'S A FIGURE OF SPEECH!"
Soma laughed and hurried after them.
He'd come to the convention afraid of meeting the people who mattered most to him. Now he could scarcely believe he'd waited so long.
For the first time in years, he didn't feel like a man hiding from his life.
He felt like he'd finally stepped into it.