Dr. Shortle had already cleared them for a "light test run" using the facility’s virtual pods. Something about needing real-time pilot data for calibration purposes. Neville suspected the old researcher just wanted to see what they could do.

Now, standing before two sleek virtual pods that looked like oversized eggs carved from obsidian, Neville felt his stomach clench.

"We’re playing Mecha Warfare Online," He glanced at Grayson, who was adjusting the form-fitting suit that seemed to be too tight for him. "Right?"

Grayson’s silver eyes held a glint of amusement. "You have a problem with that?"

"No, I just—" Neville unconsciously pushed his glasses up his nose, but there was nothing there. "It’s been a while."

"Do you really have an account?"

"I do," he nodded. "Do you?"

"I do." Grayson loosened the slightly tight part around his neck with one hand, the movement drawing Neville’s attention to the column of his throat. "But I’ll need to use my alt. My main is bound to a military account."

Neville blinked and realized what Grayson meant.

If anyone watching had half a brain or monitored accounts in the military, they would notice immediately if Grayson, the former general, used his main account and sparred with some nobody in the game.

Even though there would only be technicians watching, it would still be a big deal.

The technicians descended towards them. Two women in matching lab coats guided Neville toward the left pod while their colleagues flanked Grayson on the right.

They attached additional sensor pads to his temples, adjusted the neural interface helmet, and ran through calibration checks that Neville only half-listened to.

The pod’s interior wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. It lacked the seamless integration of the virtual pod he used at home. The cushioning was adequate rather than adaptive; the neural link connection points were slightly off-center from where he was used to, but this would do.

"Neural helmet connection in three, two, one..."

The world dissolved.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

As soon as he logged in, he was met by his home base.

[WELCOME BACK, GRAVY!]

Then he heard Shelly say, [It’s been months since we came in here~ I missed this place~] as she sent fake kisses in the air.

Had it really been that long?

Time moved strangely when you were juggling between work, random system quests, and trying not to fall in love with your temperamental boss.

He walked around the familiar mecha loading station.

Then a virtual pod notification appeared in front of him that he didn’t know was even possible.

[OVRPOD]: Private Room 666 has been successfully created. Press ’Yes’ to proceed.

Technicians were really technicians since they could do anything.

As soon as he pressed ’Yes,’ Neville the hub blurred and reformed into a smaller staging area, a private game room. It was a metallic room with weapon racks lining the walls and two mecha bays dominating the far end.

Neville walked around to get a feel for it when he received a private message.

[MechaPlayer25846]: I’m in.

It seemed that anyone inside this private room could communicate.

Another player soon came in, standing before him. The player had one of those default appearances, that nondescript male figure in standard pilot gear.

"Ready?" Grayson’s voice came through crystal clear.

"Almost." Neville moved toward the equipment selection terminal. "I need to do a test run first to get used to the controls again."

"Take your time."

○●○●

What neither Neville nor Grayson knew was that their "private" room wasn’t nearly as private as they had thought it would be.

The researchers at the Mecha Research Institute had configured the session for observation purposes, a standard protocol when testing new neural interface calibrations in the lab.

The gameplay footage was streamed directly to a monitoring station where a handful of technicians watched with professional detachment.

As they were used to other people not caring what they did in this place, they didn’t think more about double-checking the setting of this private game room. However, the researchers hadn’t anticipated the external attention their session would attract.

The moment [Gravy] logged into Mecha Warfare Online, alert alarms triggered across multiple servers.

Not security alarms but notification alarms. The kind that hardcore players set to alert them when specific high-profile accounts came online.

[Gravy] had been a legend before vanishing.

A player who had appeared out of nowhere dominated the ranked ladders with unconventional tactics and inhuman reaction times, then disappeared just as suddenly.

Theories about the account’s owner ranged from "secret military project" to "underground test pilot" to "literal AI pretending to be human."

Now that the account was back online. It was said to have entered a private 1v1 match. Within minutes, every spectating seat in the virtual observation deck was filled with curious players.

○●○●

At the Imperial Military Academy, a young man with now brown hair and blue eyes jolted upright in his dormitory chair.

"Michelle!" Michael Frost’s shout echoed down the hallway. "MICHELLE!"

His older sister appeared in his doorway, her own silver hair cascading over one shoulder, looking unimpressed. "What?"

"[Gravy]’s back online!"

Michelle’s expression changed from bored to alert in the span of a heartbeat. She crossed the room in three strides and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to stare at his light brain’s external holographic display. "You’re kidding."

"Look." Michael pointed at the screen, where his notification log showed [Gravy]’s login timestamp. "And he’s in a private match."

"Can we come in and spectate?"

"I’ll try." Michael’s fingers flew across his keyboard. "The room’s set to private, but there’s an external feed—looks like someone is monitoring this session. I’m piggybacking on their broadcast."

"That’s illegal."

"Not really, it’s their fault for not checking their settings."

Michelle considered this for approximately half a second. "As long as you know what you’re doing."

○●○●

Across the academy campus, Professor Krenn of the Tactical Simulation Mecha Department received an automated alert on his light brain. He read it twice, then immediately opened his light brain to call his colleague in Combat Systems Research.

"Iona. Did you see the notification?"

Professor Iona’s voice crackled through the connection. "I’m already pulling up the feed."

"I saw the username of the person he’ll be sparring with. 258. I’m sure that this person is a military alt account." Krenn’s weathered face creased in thought. "Now we can confirm if this [Gravy] is a cheater or a real superstar rookie."

"I already informed my team to record everything."