Rick slowly got up from his chair, stretched, feeling how every muscle reminded him of himself after long hours of immobility. His numb hands were shaking, but he ignored it. He took off his headphones, carefully placed them on the table and looked at the monitor screen. There, surrounded by the darkness of the game interface, his character stood motionless. Another heavy raid was completed: plus five levels, a dozen fragments of the assassin's emblem. It's not enough for such a job, but still a step forward.
"Not much... But it's better than nothing. At least the progress is noticeable," he muttered, turning off the game. The screen went dark, leaving only a faint reflection of light from the streetlights in the room. "I don't win so often because I'm the best, thanks to closed beta testing," Rick muttered to himself.
—Closed beta test,— he repeated more mockingly, glancing at his keyboard.
It was there that he gained the advantage that now allowed him to break ahead. He was among the few who were able to enter the game before others, explore its weaknesses, mechanics and, most importantly, come up with strategies.
— It's not a skill. It's... experience,— Rick muttered over and over, staring thoughtfully at the screen.
He looked up at his watch: it was long past midnight. There was silence outside, broken only by the occasional crackle of old radiators. Rick put on his jacket, carefully buttoning it up to his throat. The cold coming through the window slits suggested that outside the window the night would greet him with a frosty breath.
As he opened the door, he felt a sharp gust of winter air even in the entryway. Going down the elevator and going to the door, he saw the first snow, covering the ground with a white blanket, crunching under the feet of rare passers-by. The city was shrouded in silence, the lanterns illuminated only small islands of sidewalks, casting long shadows on the frosted facades of houses.
"What a lazy guy I am..." he thought with a slight grin. — "It would be worth getting out more often, and not just rushing around the virtual worlds."His phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to be distracted for a moment. After taking it out, Rick noticed a new message from his sister.
"I'll be back tomorrow, brother, I'm late. I kiss you, your Micah."
A faint smile appeared on his face. Mika... was the only person whose presence gave him a feeling of warmth. She was like a beacon to him in the endless darkness, always caring, always there for him—even from a distance.
Finally, Rick stepped outside, and the cold night air blew over his face. The city was asleep, shrouded in winter silence. Rare passersby hurriedly crossed the streets, wrapped in scarves and hats, and the sounds of their footsteps quickly disappeared into the frosty air.
Rick looked up, watching the steam billowing out of his mouth. The world around him was silent and calm, but something was moving inexorably inside him. Was it a desire to break out of the usual routine or just a quiet longing? He didn't know. But the night, cold and serene, seemed to be preparing to reveal something new to him.
"The world is no less harsh here than it is there," he thought, his gaze sliding down the empty street.
And yet, there was something strangely comforting about this winter's peace. He put his hands in his pockets and walked towards the nearest store, slowly, but at the same time cautiously, as if he were continuing his journey in a virtual universe. Rick walked thoughtfully along the road, lost in thought. The weak light of the lanterns fell on his figure, outlining the drops of melted snow that flowed from the branches of the trees.
"This raid was good... But that's not enough. Tomorrow we need to go deeper," he mused, breaking through the maze of his strategies. The picture of the next campaign loomed in his head with frightening clarity: more bosses, rare artifacts, unexpected twists. Every step was thought out. "Maybe I'll knock out something worthwhile."
The ringing tremor of the phone in his pocket snapped him out of his reverie. A slight irritation passed over his face—who could write at such an hour? He didn't hurry to take out the device until the vibration stopped.
An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen, and a message appeared below it.
"You're playing well, Rick_sailen. But you can't even imagine what awaits you next."
Rick froze. The icy wind burned his face, but he didn't seem to feel it. His gaze clung to the lines as his brain desperately tried to comprehend what he had read.
"Rick_silen...?" — he whispered almost inaudibly, as if the name was a stranger to him. It's his gaming nickname, but who the hell would know him here, outside of the virtual world?
His fingers tightened on the phone, and his thoughts whirled. "Who is this? A random joke? Or did someone from the former team decide to play a prank on me?" But something in the tone of the text did not let me calm down. It wasn't just a challenge or a joke. Every word seemed to be written with intent, with cold calculation.
He slowly looked around the street. The empty road, the muffled sounds of the night city, and the sparse silhouettes of passersby. No one looked suspicious. And yet, the feeling of being watched pierced him.
"Next? What do they mean by that?" A shadow of concern crossed his face, but he immediately pulled himself together. The message could just be an empty threat.
Rick exhaled slowly, put his phone in his pocket, and continued on his way. But the thought of that message wouldn't let go of him, boring into his head like a hissing whisper from the shadows.
The phone vibrated again. Rick glanced at the screen, waiting for the next attack from the unknown. This time, the message was concise, but it was cold.:
"The game is just beginning. Good luck."
He slowly put the phone back in his pocket, feeling anxiety gradually cover him. "It's kind of stupid. Probably someone I met on the raid," he thought, trying to convince himself that this was just someone's joke. But even his inner voice sounded uncertain.
"Wait, though... Holy shit! Nobody knows this number except Mika?! What the fuck?" The thought struck like a hammer. A minute ago, he would have laughed at this, but now everything inside is tense.
"If this is a joke from Mika..." an idea flashed through his mind, but Rick quickly dismissed it. His sister wasn't capable of such pranks. Especially after he once promised to throw away her favorite collection of figurines if she ever did that to him again.
Rick looked around again, trying not to panic. The deserted streets, covered with snow, seemed lifeless. A stray dog ran somewhere in the distance, its tracks in the snow immediately hidden by the incoming wind. Behind him, the lights of a passing taxi flashed in the dim light of a street lamp.
"Calm down. It's just that someone decided to have some fun. Nothing unusual, Rick told himself, but his feet picked up on their own. The vague feeling of being watched made him pull his hood even tighter.