Rick grinned, savoring the rare moment of warm comfort. The world seemed to have narrowed down to those boxes of food, their conversations, and the light laughter that filled the apartment. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the game wasn't over. And if Sato was a master strategist, then Rick was going to be a worthy opponent.
Drinking his burger with a Coke, Rick leaned back in his chair, chewing the last bite with a slight satisfaction. But the thoughts, like pesky flies, kept him on his toes. He slowly stared into the void, letting the memories carry him back to where it all began.
It was a long time ago, back when the name Silenus still meant something. The account, created from scratch, had become his calling card in the virtual world. Back then, Rick had played on what he considered to be the perfect team. They weren't just fellow players - each of them felt part of something bigger, as if bound by invisible threads.
But how did things change? At first it had been small bumps in the road - disagreements, doubts. Then something inside Rick began to crack, like old glass corroded by time. He remembered clearly the day he'd first thought: what if everything they'd built was just an illusion?
Mika, sitting across from him, watched his pensive look with interest. She noticed that always recognizable expression on his face - lips slightly compressed, a look of detachment, as if he wasn't here anymore.
- Hey, are you even here? - her voice cut through the silence like a sharp knife. - Or are you back in your virtual world?
Rick stirred, as if awake.
- I'm here. Just... remembering.
- Oh, the time when you were a great Silenus? - she grinned slightly, but there was more understanding than mockery in her eyes.
- 'Exactly,' Rick replied quietly, looking into his empty glass. - It was really... different. Everything seemed simpler back then.
Myka nodded, realizing that there was more behind his words.
- You know, you never really told me much. What made you leave?
Rick looked at her, hesitating a little before answering.
- Leave? It's hard to say. I think it was me. Or all of it. I'm tired... of people betraying you without even realizing it.
Her gaze grew serious, and she sat a little closer, pushing the box of potatoes aside.
- You know I've always watched you, right? I've seen you change. But I never thought you could just, uh. let things go.
He only grinned, remembering how those he'd considered friends had slowly but surely turned their backs on him. They cared more about wins and rankings than they did about the team and friendship.
- Sometimes it's better to be alone, Mika," he finally answered. - Less chance of getting hurt.
She sighed, picking up the Coke bottle and waving it in the air.
- But look, even alone, you've got me, and . this weird guy who provides us with food on a regular basis.
Rick, hearing the mention of Sato, involuntarily smiled.
- Yes, that strange type. I wonder what he'll say if he finds out that his Scarlet is me, and that his fancy dinners for two we just share.
- Well, I'd say his ego would explode," Mika laughed. - But let's be honest: he delivers amazing wings.
They both laughed, and in that moment the memories of the past, the shadows of old hurts and mistakes began to seem something distant, almost insignificant. Rick sank back into his thoughts. Memories, like ghosts, came to him uninvited, pulling him back into the past, where the era of hope and hard work still reigned.
The year 2059. One year before the events that changed everything. Back then he was known as Silenus, one of the last remaining members of the Alpha guild. It was an era when the virtual world had absorbed millions of players, giving them the opportunity to build their empires and live within the fantasies that had become a reality of leaving the frustrating world of their own.
"Alpha was once one of the most famous guilds on their server. Their accomplishments did not stretch across the entire game world, but within their territory they were the undisputed leaders. For all who played on this server, the name "Alpha" was synonymous with skill and strength. Their raids, while not the most ambitious on the world stage, were a model of strategy and discipline. They were the first to explore new dungeons, the first to obtain rare artifacts, and even in the most difficult situations remained a cohesive team.
But over time, like everything in life, "Alpha" began to fade. At first it was small changes - those who once brought victories left. They didn't leave the server, but their interests changed. Some found new guilds where they were more valuable, where new content or new ambitions could bring back their interest in the game. Others simply lost motivation and started playing for themselves rather than for something more.
The guild members themselves were also beginning to feel the change. Constant updates to the game, changes in mechanics and balancing were draining them of their last strength. In addition, the pressure was increasing: new guilds were gaining popularity, and the old players, with each update, felt more and more tired, as if the world was no longer what it used to be. Gameplay that had once been satisfying was now increasingly becoming a chore.
The guild continued to exist, but without the former brightness that had once compelled them to fight to the end. The battles became less meaningful, the victories less important. Even their most successful raids now looked more like automatic actions than actual feats. The guild hadn't lost its power, but its soul was gone.
The players who had once been the pride of Alpha began to leave the guild on their own, and while the guild was still afloat, it was no longer the living organism that had once inspired thousands of players. Its existence was now more of a memory of a great past than anything meaningful in the present.
The remaining members tried to recreate that atmosphere, but they couldn't. Because no matter how hard they tried to hold on to their former glory, the game was changing. And with each new move, the old leaders of the guild realized more and more that they would not be able to recapture the spirit they had before. "Alpha" as a symbol was gone, and only a shadow of its greatness remained.
Silenus stood in the vast throne room. The majestic architecture, carved of marble and decorated with gold, had once glittered in the light shining through the stained glass windows. Now the hall seemed cold, devoid of life, and only the trophies and cups on pedestals reminded him of former triumph.
He stood opposite the throne where life had once reigned - now there was emptiness. The massive throne, covered with engravings and symbols of their guild, regardless of time and devastation, stood in its place as an immutable monument to the past. This throne was the center of all conversations, all decisions, all ambitions. They had once sat here - his friends, his associates, his allies. And every meeting, every discussion was filled with emotion, enthusiasm, and heated arguments.
Back then, in the best years of Alpha, their voices sounded like a single powerful chorus, every word was like a weapon aimed at common success. They were brothers and sisters in arms, each of them putting their souls into the creation of this guild. They were supported by the strict but wise Leron, who always stood on the guard of morality, although he himself often liked to drink fatigue to the limit; Ranel, his right hand and friend, the cheerful soul of the company, who with her laughter dispersed any clouds on the horizon; Alice - magistress, whose intelligence and calmness more than once saved them in the most difficult situations. They were invincible, it seemed, when their forces united into one. This was their time, their home. It was the "Alpha" that was worshipped.
But things were different now.
The hall, which had once been filled with the sounds of discussions and plans, was now engulfed in silence. There was no Leron, no Ranel, no Alice. The throne where the greatest minds once sat now looked like an empty seat. The echo of footsteps was the only thing that broke this oppressive atmosphere. Every step echoed heavily in the empty hall, where once there had been orders, predictions, and jokes that had brought them all closer.
"Where are they now?" He thought, feeling the weight of the memories. Leron left when he stopped believing in the meaning of this game. He was different from everyone else, and at some point he realized that the Alpha world was not what he aspired to. He was looking for something more, something real. Ranel, remembering every detail of their victories, left for his new guild, which promised more ambitious goals. Alice, whom he always respected for her calmness and clarity, also left their ranks when she could not find satisfaction in the constant changes of the game. They all went to a place where they could be understood, where they were appreciated.
But despite all this, he continued to stand here, in front of the throne, in front of what remained of his former greatness. He couldn't just leave. He couldn't leave this guild, even though he knew its days were numbered. He was the one who stayed. Not because he believed that it was possible to regain his former greatness, but because a sense of duty did not allow him to leave. The guild became a part of him, as he was a part of it. He was connected with this place, with those people, with those moments that cannot be forgotten.
But every time he looked at the empty throne, when he saw these symbols that once represented victory and strength, there was something heavy in his soul. He didn't know what to do next. Leave? And leave it all behind? Or try to collect the remnants, find new people, new allies, and bring back at least a small part of what was once their greatness?
Time passed, but the memory of those days still remained. About how Leron, with a serious face, proposed tactical changes in the last raid, how Ranelle, with her unchanging smile, constantly joked and created an atmosphere in which there was no place for anxiety, how Alice, quietly and judiciously, analyzed every step, protecting them from mistakes. These moments were here, in the air, in every step.
"It was so easy to be a leader back then," he said softly to himself, peering into the empty space where his friends had once stood. It was a time when every day was full of tasks and goals. They moved forward with indomitable energy.
And despite that, he stayed.
Silence slowly looked around the room. On a pedestal against the wall stood their conquered relics: the trophy they received for destroying the dragon ruler, the cup for winning the inter-guild tournament, the banner of the first war, where Alpha established itself as a force to be reckoned with.
Each of these things is not just an object. They were symbols of their work, friendship, and unity. And now they meant nothing.
Rick ran his hand over one of the trophies, brushing away imaginary dust.
— How did we get to this point? He muttered softly, more to himself than to the empty room.
There was no response. Only silence, which became his only companion.
He remembered the faces of his other friends, the guild members. Fenrir, their commander and first leader, who went to the "Grand Lions" in pursuit of ambition. Laria, their strategist, once said: "We're too tired. This path will bring us nothing." And even Ash, the most loyal of them all, couldn't stand it and left them when the guild started to collapse.
Silent was left alone. This castle, these walls, these trophies—they were part of it. He felt that leaving them would be a betrayal.
Rick sighed. The new recruitment to the Alpha Guild, once famous for its greatness, turned out to be a disappointment. It seemed that the deserted halls of the castle began to be flocked not by warriors eager for glory, but by random travelers who barely held a weapon. They did not know the team game, they did not understand the meaning of unity, which once made Alpha invincible. And the few who had the strength did not have the patience to work in a group, accustomed to acting only alone.
Silent made every effort to restore the guild to its former glory. He made plans, trained newcomers, organized raids, but deep down he understood that this was a struggle against the inevitable. Alpha has long lost its place among the strongest. Once their name was heard on every corner, they were among the top 10 strongest guilds on the server. But now... they've dropped out of the hundred.
Sitting in the council chamber, Silent looked at the empty chairs. Those who had supported him before were no longer there. Their place was taken by inexperienced and sometimes frankly useless players, each of whom hoped for personal gain, but not for a contribution to the common cause. The greatness of the Alpha remained only in the memories and awards that decorated the castle walls.
Every conversation between these newbies was annoying to the limit. He got up heavily and walked across the hall. His footsteps echoed through the deserted corridors. Once upon a time, this castle was alive — there was laughter, arguments, and conversations about strategy. Now, even from the center of the main hall, one could hear the wind outside the building blowing away the last shreds of glory.
Silent walked over to the wall where their trophies were kept—artifacts obtained in battles, rare armor, banners of defeated guilds. They were silent witnesses of an era that was irrevocably gone. He reached for one of the cups, his fingers slid over the cold metal, and the faces of those who helped win this prize rose before his eyes. Their laughter, their words of encouragement, their desire to be the best... It all seemed like a mirage now.
— I tried, friends. I really tried," he said softly, clenching his fist.
But even that short sentence echoed off the walls, coming back to him like a mockery.
A decision has been brewing for a long time, and now it has become inevitable. Silent will leave the castle before disbanding the new guild members. Anyway, sooner or later, an empty and weakened guild will lose ownership, and the castle will pass to another, stronger organization. Artifacts, cups, and trophies will return to his inventory as guild leader, but what do they mean without the people they were mined with?
He looked around the room once more, trying to capture it in his memory. The castle was not just their mainstay — it was a symbol. A symbol of friendship, strength, and victories.
— Goodbye, the house that we created together, — he said, stepping towards the exit.
Massive doors closed behind him, cutting him off from the past. The wind lifted the dust, as if wanting to erase the last traces of their presence. And now, standing on the threshold, Silent took a step into the unknown. After walking through the clearing for a couple of hours, he stopped and sat down by a quiet lake, his reflection in the water surface seemed ghostly and uncertain. He rubbed his face with his hands, as if hoping to erase the accumulated fatigue.
—Holy shit...— he whispered, throwing a pebble into the water.
The words were lost in the silence, broken only by the sounds of night crickets. Everything was stacked against him. Not only the guild, but his class itself seemed destined for extinction. A recent update literally clipped the wings of the assassins of his class, replacing mana with an endurance scale.
This scale was replenished slowly, too slowly. This deprived them of their main advantage — the ability to strike blow after blow, without letting the enemy come to their senses. Now he had to calculate every step, every move, as if he were not a killer, but a chess player calculating the positions on the board. Everything seemed to be stacked against him.
"What's next?" he thought. It seemed to him that the developers had done everything to make his favorite class useless. If before he could track down a single target and hunt methodically, turning the whole process into an art, now it's all ruined. In addition, the general debuff added oil to the fire. The killers became more vulnerable, less deadly, and their secrecy seemed like a pathetic illusion.
At the same time, the riflemen and fighters received significant reinforcements. Now, those whom he had previously hunted down and destroyed in a matter of seconds could safely survive his attacks and even fight back.
— Sure, why not make them even stronger? He muttered bitterly.