A green light flashed in Avery’s heads-up display, signaling it was safe to enter the War Room. Immersed in fantasy-themed visuals and a synth thrum that carried a haunting, medieval lilt, he didn’t notice the real-world doors slide open. He stepped through what appeared to be an ancient archway, leading to a torch-lit room flanked by wooden beams encrusted with glowing runes. Without the tether, he would have seen a sterile meeting room with two grim-faced security guards from the delivery gate. Instead, Avery saw guardians of the realm, clad in ornate armor, seated at a weathered oak table in a room with epic stone walls.

Less than two hours ago, Pyra had died in front of Avery, not far from their gate. Avery had watched her die a thousand times in-game, cut down by arrows, incinerated by dragons, but that was different. In the real world, there was no respawning for Pyra.

Avery opened the Players Nearby panel on the virtual screen with a few eye movements and blinks. It confirmed the identities of Garry and Steve. Avery, still shaken, forced himself to nod a greeting. They returned it. As he reached for a chair, it flickered into a sleek, ergonomic seat. It felt lighter than expected as he pulled it from the table. It had taken him a while to get used to the way things were at Synalux Studios. The tether blurred reality and fantasy, letting developers code within the game world.

But he would never get used to Pyra dying in the real world.

Ferrox flickered into view at the table’s far end. Chief Alchemist, Avery thought—such a pretentious title for the lead engineer.

The synth music dipped as Ferrox spoke. “Good afternoon. We have suffered a loss today, and this needs to be addressed. I’ll begin with Avery. Garry, Steve, jump in if you have anything to add.” Ferrox turned to Avery. “It’s just tragic what happened to Pyra. I know your team was close. She was a great team leader, and I could rely on her to keep your division on track.”

Avery stared at the leather gauntlets of his avatar.

“I know the police questioned you,” Ferrox continued, “but HR needs our own investigation. I’ll keep this brief. Raven won’t join us. She’s being treated for shock. I’ll speak with her when she’s ready. How about you, Avery? Are you holding up? Are you okay to continue?”

Avery cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Did Pyra seem depressed to you?”

“No. She was great. She was excited about finishing the NPC module upgrades. Pumped, even.”

Ferrox said, “The authorities are calling it suicide. You never know what someone is hiding. Sometimes the signs are subtle.”

“Not Pyra,” Avery said. “If she wasn’t happy, she’d let everyone know.”

“Okay, she was pumped. But excitement can be a fragile mask, Avery. Even you might’ve missed something.”

Avery stifled a grimace.

Ferrox said, “This is a campus—rumors spread fast. We’ve heard Raven and Pyra didn’t always get along. Could that have affected Pyra’s state of mind?”

“No way,” Avery said. “They’d bicker one minute, then laugh like best friends over coffee the next.”

“Some of the team see it differently,” said Ferrox. “You were at the Mexican food stall near the gate. What did you see?”

“Pyra walked straight into the path of the quarry worker bus. Raven and I shouted, but she didn’t hear us. It was like she was tethered, gesturing, moving like she was still in-game.”

Ferrox said, “She couldn’t have been tethered, Avery. The Wi-Fi doesn’t reach that far.”

Avery looked at Garry. Garry shrugged his shoulders.

“I know what I saw,” Avery said. “She was making hand motions, like she was navigating menus. She was smiling at something that wasn’t there. We screamed her name; she didn’t flinch.”

Ferrox said. “I want answers, too, Avery, but the tether drops when it’s out of range.”

“All I know is she wasn’t reacting to the real world.”

“Your concern is noted. Let’s move on.”

Avery’s Bioflux band chirped, flashing as his heart rate spiked.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Ferrox’s face. “This is stressful for everyone, Avery. Mute your alerts for the rest of this meeting.”

Avery tapped the band on his wrist, silencing it.

Ferrox scanned the room. “We need to keep a lid on this. Rumors spread fast on a Caribbean island. The locals already distrust us. If journalists approach, direct them to the media liaison. No exception.”

He turned to Garry. “Why did you allow Pyra through the gate wearing a headset?”

Garry glanced at Steve.

Steve said, “We were handling a delivery.”

Ferrox said, “Didn’t the RFID scanner alert you that her headset was still in her possession? It’s not just a security issue. It’s for safety.”

Steve said, “We hit the bypass when the truck arrived. We don’t have time to check everyone while we’re clearing a delivery. And it was only a couple of minutes.”

Ferrox rolled his eyes. “That’s all it took. Didn’t any of our team try to stop her?”

Garry said, “Can’t say. I didn’t see her pass the gate, except on CCTV later. We didn’t notice anything until we heard a scream.”

Steve nodded. “I ran to the scene. Her neck was misaligned. Looked broken. No pulse, no breath. As an ex-corpsman, I knew she was gone. Nothing I could do.”

Ferrox said, “Send me the CCTV files. Every angle you have.”

Steve said, “No problem. I’ll send what we have.”

“Thanks,” Ferrox said, “We’ll need to review gate protocols. But that’s all for now. Keep me posted if anything comes to mind. Avery, stay a moment.”

Garry and Steve’s avatars shimmered out, their real-world footsteps faint over the background synth music.

Ferrox said, “Take the rest of today off. Tomorrow, I need you to rename all the NPC modules for the release: Ezerboth, the Quest for the Book of Light. Update every placeholder in your code.”

“I was hoping for a couple of days. I need time to process this.”

“I know it’s a lot,” Ferrox said. “But we’re on a tight deadline. With Pyra gone, the NPC module’s a mess. If we miss next month’s release, we’re all at risk.” He paused. “I tell you what, take tomorrow off. Fish at the pier, clear your head. You can make up the time next week.”

Avery said, “Thanks, do you want me to check the logs before I go or test the tether system? I need to know it wasn’t my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ferrox said. “The Wi-Fi doesn’t reach the gate. You’re too close to this to be objective. Take today and tomorrow off, then focus on the NPC module when you’re back.”

Ferrox’s avatar dissolved.

Avery stared at the empty seat.

He logged out, the tether’s synth music fading as his visor went transparent. The War Room’s harsh fluorescent lights stung his eyes. The weight of Pyra’s death and the looming deadline were crushing him.

His headset reactivated with an audible message: “Protocol Violation: Unauthorized Logout During Work Hours. Reconnecting.”

He swore under his breath. Guards like Garry and Steve could log out and walk away. Developers? They were chained to the VR system during work hours, fully immersed like players, by order of Vince, the CEO. It was culture gone crazy, but Vince was the one signing the checks.

The headset, the company, the silence around Pyra’s death all pointed to the same thing: comply.

Something was wrong.

Avery knew it. Pyra was dead. There was no way he would comply.

He wouldn’t stop digging until he had proof.