As they moved through the glowing pathways, the private chat flickered to life.

  Byte: “Okay, but can we just acknowledge that was some next-level god-tier flexing? Did you SEE how Zeus handled Welby?”

  Shiro: “Handled? Bro, he deleted him from existence.”

  Hexa: “I don’t even know what to think. I mean, the way he spoke… like, does he think he’s actually Zeus?”

  Dani barely registered their words.

  Her thoughts were still spinning, tangled between Mackiaveli, Zeus, Steve, and the impossible mess of it all.

  She kept staring at the HUD display where the system had logged her new elemental status.

  The moment Zeus had placed that ornate box in her hands, the connection had seared into her character data like it had always belonged to her. And when Vesta had appeared—

  No. Don’t go down that road right now.

  Her steps faltered as she tried to keep her breathing steady.

  How had she gone from being just another competitor to standing at the center of something bigger than the game itself?

  Byte kept rambling.

  Byte: “I mean, seriously. One minute we’re partying, and the next we’re watching a whole villain monologue end in real-time deletion.”

  Shiro: “Nah, but did you hear that voice though? I swear, I almost felt it IRL. Like my haptics vibrated through my chair, dude.”

  Dani swallowed hard.

  Dani: “Yeah. Same.”

  Hexa: “You good, Dani?”

  She hesitated. The truth was—no, she wasn’t.

  I still don’t get any of this. Everytime I think I’m pieceing things together, it gets more complicated and confusing.

  She forced herself to focus back on the group chat, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

  Dani: “Guys, I haven’t processed any of this, and Mackiaveli is acting like a VIP host?!”

  Byte: “Not just acting. Hosting. He’s literally running the most exclusive event in Another Life.”

  Shiro: “You think he’s flexing, or you think this is just, like, normal for him?”

  Hexa was typing something when a sudden notification popped up. Vessa has joined the chat.

  Vessa: “Finally found you.”

  Dani’s stomach twisted.

  Dani: “Vessa?”

  Vessa: “We need to talk.”

  Dani followed Vessa, Byte, Hexa, and Shiro as they weaved through the crowd, leaving the main hall of Olympus behind. The electric hum of the concert faded as they walked toward a gilded entrance, flanked by massive white marble columns.They reached the far end of the Olympus event space, where an enormous circular platform stood elevated slightly above the ground.

  Vessa: “There’s the VIP Access Elevator. Let’s go.”

  It wasn’t just any elevator. It was a floating disc of polished obsidian, held in place by four towering Corinthian columns, their golden capitals inscribed with mystical runes that pulsed softly with energy. Above the platform, the sky seemed to warp slightly, as if reality itself bent around whatever was above.

  Hexa gestured toward the towering pillars.

  Hexa: “These are similar to the teleportation columns we used to get to Olympus earlier. They’re also on every major landmass. Olympus, the high courts, major corporate hubs. If there’s power, there’s a teleport elevator pad like this.”

  Byte: “I don’t like these platforms as much as the pads. Riding on the platform sometimes glitches and gets laggy on the way up. Unlike the pad which is almost like a direct teleport to the level or section.”

  Shiro: “There are private ones but most are made by Hacks. These are well scripted.”

  Hexa, Byte, and Vessa nodded in agreement then Dani tilted her head.

  Dani: “So… private owners can put these on their land too?”

  Hexa: “Yup. But they only activate during sanctioned events. Otherwise, they stay dormant.”

  She paused, then added in a quieter tone:

  Hexa: “Olympus, though? That’s different. Zeus’s level is so far above normal render distance that no one can reach it by flying or rezzing objects to climb. Only these columns can take you there.”

  A cold shiver ran down Dani’s spine.

  Olympus is untouchable.

  It sees everything. But no one can reach it unless they’re invited.

  She looked up, squinting at the faint glimmer of golden mist swirling above them. What did Zeus see from up there? Before she could ask, a new system message appeared.

  ? You have been granted VIP access.

  ? You may ascend.

  A ripple of excitement and nervous energy ran through her. Vessa already on the platform wave them up and Byte stepped onto the floating disc first, grinning.

  Byte: “Okay, I gotta admit… this is kinda sick.”

  Shiro followed, whistling low.

  Shiro: “I don’t even care if this is all corporate politics—if I don’t get a selfie at the top, I’m gonna riot.”

  Hexa just shook her head, smirking as she motioned for Dani to step forward.

  Hexa: “You ready?”

  Dani’s fingers hovered over her controls. She took a slow breath, stepped onto the platform—And the world around her dissolved into golden light.

  Am I ready?

  On the elevator, Vessa spoke up.

  Vessa: “None of the staff here can use PMs while working.”

  Dani: “Why?”

  Vessa: “Too many incidents. Some people came up here pretending to work just so they could stalk, harass, hack, or even ransom major VIPs.”

  As the elevator reached the VIP floor, the golden mist that surrounded them parted like a grand unveiling, revealing a landscape of impossible beauty.

  The VIP terrace of Mount Olympus was an open-air masterpiece—a perfect blend of ancient grandeur and futuristic opulence. Massive marble colonnades stretched into the star-filled sky, their bases wrapped in glowing blue ivy that shimmered like liquid neon. A sprawling courtyard of polished obsidian and gold extended before them, inlaid with intricate mosaics that shifted and moved like a living history of Another Life.

  To the left, an infinity pool of liquid silver cascaded over the edge, disappearing into the clouds below. A few VIPs stood near it, their avatars dressed in regal togas, cyber-enhanced battle suits, and sleek designer fashion, sipping from chalices that emitted a faint, mystical glow.

  To the right, an elevated pavilion overlooked the entire event below, its floating balcony suspended over nothingness, held in place by nothing but the sheer will of the game’s architecture. The throne-like seating areas here were occupied by high-ranking guild leaders, corporate executives, and developers, all engaged in hushed yet intense conversations.

  Overhead, transparent digital banners floated in midair, displaying live streams of stock movements, digital economies, and in-game asset transfers like some kind of Wall Street for the metaverse. Below the ticker feed, holographic statues of the Olympian gods rotated slowly, each one marked with an emblem representing different sectors of Another Life.

  At the far end of the terrace, a gilded archway led into a private indoor sanctum, its entrance guarded by six towering statues of warriors clad in futuristic bronze armor. The arch itself pulsed with a golden energy field, clearly marking it as restricted to only the most elite. Everything about this place oozed power. This wasn’t just a VIP lounge. It was a kingdom.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  As they entered, Dani’s breath caught. This wasn’t just another party. This was another world. Massive gold chandeliers hovered mid-air, casting warm light over luxurious lounge spaces filled with the most powerful people in Another Life.

  Giant holographic banners displayed the logos of elite guilds, major advertisers, and corporate sponsors. Some groups were deep in negotiations, discussing territory disputes and strategic alliances like it was a real-world business conference.

  Another Life’s news team had a section of their own, VR cameras floating overhead, capturing footage for their next exclusive exposé. And in the center of it all—Mackiaveli.

  Standing at a polished marble hosting station, nodding as he welcomed another group of developers, looking completely in control of this realm.

  No. Not just in control. Like he belonged here.

  Dani’s pulse pounded in her ears. He turned. Their eyes met. For a moment, she expected him to say something, to acknowledge what had happened earlier. Instead— Mackiaveli simply inclined his head in greeting, his avatar’s expression unreadable.

  Mackiaveli: “Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen. I hope you enjoy the evening.”

  His voice was calm. Professional. Dani’s jaw clenched. Her mind raced with questions, but before she could open her mouth—Mack turned back to the next group in line, smoothly transitioning into his next conversation. He didn’t even flinch.

  What the hell is this?!

  Then—he looked back at her. It was quick, barely noticeable—but his eyes widened slightly, and he gave her a subtle shake of his head. A silent warning.

  Not here.

  Dani exhaled sharply and forced herself to pivot.

  Dani: “Okay… uh… what do you recommend for drinks?”

  Mackiaveli took the cue immediately, seamlessly shifting his tone.

  Mackiaveli: “Private booths are available. Your host will escort you there.”

  A server NPC materialized beside them, guiding them toward the VIP seating. Dani barely registered it. Her mind was still spiraling as they walked.

  Why didn’t he tell me about this?

  Is this why he’s been so busy?

  How deep does all of this go?

  As they settled into a dimly lit private booth, Vessa leaned in.

  Vessa: “You’re probably wondering what the hell you just walked into.”

  Dani couldn’t even type.

  Vessa: “This room is where Another Life’s power players meet. They negotiate deals, argue over land rights, recruit top-tier developers, and secure sponsorships. It’s all about influence.”

  Hexa: “And Mack hosts this?”

  Vessa: “Every year. He’s been climbing for years, and he’s finally got a seat at the big table.”

  Dani’s stomach flipped. Mackiaveli wasn’t just some high-level player. He was ingrained in the foundation of Another Life itself.

  And I had no idea.

  Byte: “So, uh… what do you want to show us?”

  Vessa grinned.

  Vessa: “Follow me.”

  As they walked deeper into the VIP section, Dani’s mind kept circling back to Mackiaveli. Hexa, Byte, and Shiro were still talking, but their words blurred into background noise. Instead, Dani’s thoughts spiraled.

  Why is Mack hosting this?

  Why was he so calm?

  And why the hell does it feel like Zeus is pulling me in one direction… and Mack is pulling me in another?

  She stole one last glance over her shoulder. Mack was still talking to another group, expression composed. For the first time, she found herself comparing him. The smooth confidence, the easy authority. He seemed so in control. And yet…

  He wasn’t Zeus. Zeus had made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years. An energy, a force she couldn’t explain. And Mack? He was starting to seem smaller in comparison.

  Dani clenched her fists.

  Something’s not right.

  The morning sunlight was too bright, the crisp air too sharp against Sarah’s skin. As she walked across campus, her thoughts were a tangled mess, a swirling storm of emotions she couldn't control.

  Zeus. Mackiaveli. Steve. The competition. The fire burning inside her ever since Olympus. Everything had been moving too fast. And now, this.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her from her spiraling thoughts. She sighed and pulled it out, half-expecting another cryptic message from Mackiaveli—or worse, a follow-up from Vessa about whatever deeper mess she’d uncovered. Instead, it was Financial Aid.

  She hesitated before answering, gripping the phone tight as she stepped toward a quieter part of the sidewalk.

  “Hello?”

  A pause. Then a polite, practiced voice.

  “Miss Daniger? This is Susan Bedlow from the Financial Aid Office. I’m calling regarding your application for aid to cover your current course enrollment.”

  A pit started to form in Sarah’s stomach.

  “We regret to inform you that your application was not approved.”

  Her pulse spiked. “Wait. What? I—There has to be some mistake.”

  “We ran your application again this morning, and after reviewing your financial aid status, it appears your eligibility is impacted by your parents’ income. Since you’re listed as a dependent on their tax returns, you do not qualify for aid.”

  Sarah’s world tilted beneath her feet.

  “But I won’t get help from them for this extra class,” she said, her voice shaking. “They won’t pay for any more classes. They won’t—”

  “I understand this can be frustrating,” the woman interrupted, her tone neutral. “However, based on federal guidelines, we are unable to override dependency status unless there is an official emancipation or extenuating circumstances.”

  Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “What does this mean for my class?”

  “Unfortunately, without the necessary payment, you will be unenrolled from the course by the end of the week. You may reach out to the Bursar’s Office to discuss alternative payment options.”

  The end of the week?

  The competition was next week. Her fingers tightened around her phone. The woman was still talking, but Sarah wasn’t listening anymore.

  Her dream and everything she had worked for, every late night coding, every moment she had struggled just to prove she belonged in this field—was slipping through her fingers like sand in a storm.

  “Miss Daniger?”

  Sarah inhaled sharply. “Thank you for calling,” she muttered before hanging up.

  She stood frozen, staring at the sidewalk, her breath coming in uneven gasps.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  Her eyes burned, but she blinked fast, refusing to let it spill over. Then, without thinking, she started walking toward class. Every step felt heavier. Harder. Like she was walking against an invisible current trying to drag her down.

  Her hands trembled, and she clenched them into fists, trying to keep it together.

  Keep moving. Don’t break. Don’t—

  The tears came anyway. Silent at first, hot against her cold cheeks, slipping past her defenses no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay. She turned toward the side of the building, hugging herself, staring at nothing as the tears fell.

  Everything was too much. Too many emotions. Too many lies. Too many pieces of a puzzle she couldn’t figure out. She had just wanted a chance. A shot at proving herself. Now, that was gone. And then—

  “Sarah?”

  Her body tensed.

  She turned her head just slightly, blinking against her blurry vision, and saw him.

  Oh no. It’s Steve. Not right now.

  He was standing there, watching her, his brow furrowed in concern. His messy brown hair, his usual hoodie, and jeans. She gathered her strength to tell him anyway. As they approached each other, they both spoke at the same time.

  “There’s something I need to tell you—”

  “There’s something I need to tell you—”

  She let out a shaky, almost breathless laugh, wiping at her eyes. “Oh my god.”

  Steve smiled softly, hands in his pockets, but then his expression shifted when he saw her face.

  “You okay?”

  She opened her mouth, ready to say yes, ready to lie, but instead—Everything crashed down at once. She broke. The words tumbled out, raw and painful.

  “No, Steve. I’m not okay.” She took a sharp breath. “I just lost my Financial Aid. They won’t cover my class. Because my parents make too much money on paper, but they don’t—” she choked on the words. “They don’t help me. At all.”

  Steve’s face darkened. “They’re dropping you?”

  “By the end of the week.”

  His jaw tightened. “That’s bullshit.”

  Sarah let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “What am I supposed to do, Steve? The competition is next week. What if I can’t even compete?”

  Steve stared at her, shoulders tense, like he was fighting himself. Then, finally, he let out a breath.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said.

  Sarah frowned. “Why?”

  “Cause your already in the competition. At least according to the rules you’re an official contestant. However. . . There is one problem.”

  Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost nervous.

  “Because…” He hesitated, then met her gaze, his voice lower, more serious than she’d ever heard it before.

  “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  Something about his tone sent a jolt of unease through her. She watched him, waiting. And then— Steve exhaled, his shoulders dropping, like he had finally accepted something inevitable.

  “I’m Mackiaveli.”

  The words hit her like a freight train. For a second, her brain short-circuited. The air between them went still. Sarah blinked. She actually felt her stomach drop, as if the universe itself had just yanked the ground out from under her.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Steve held her gaze, his face open, honest.

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.”

  She shook her head violently, stepping back. “No, no, you’re lying. You’re messing with me.”

  Steve didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.

  “I’m not.”

  Her entire body felt numb. Mackiaveli… Steve… Steve… Mackiaveli. Every conversation. Every moment. Every stupid coincidence that wasn’t a coincidence at all.

  The way he spoke.

  The way he typed.

  The way Mackiaveli always seemed to know too much.

  The way Steve always seemed to be one step ahead.

  Oh my god. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t—She needed air. Sarah took another step back. Steve stayed where he was, watching her, waiting. But she couldn’t process it. She turned. And began to walk away.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her vision blurred. Her inner flame began to glow brighter. Her thoughts twisted into static noise as she became angry. She didn’t know, what she was doing, or where she was going.

  She just knew she had to get away from him. Because if she stayed—She might get too upset. And then—

  "Sarah," Steve called after her. His voice was steady, but there was something raw underneath it.

  She didn’t stop.

  “Sarah, wait.”

  Her fists clenched.

  Don’t turn around.

  “Look at me,” he said, firmer now. “Please.”

  Something in his tone made her falter. Her breathing was uneven, her pulse too fast. But she turned. Slowly. Steve stood there, hands at his sides, looking at her like he was trying to hold everything together. Like she was already slipping away.

  “You’re mad,” he said, voice low.

  “No shit,” she snapped before she could stop herself.

  He inhaled sharply, nodding once like he’d expected that.

  “I should have told you sooner,” he admitted.

  Her chest tightened.

  “You think?” she bit out.

  A pause. Then—

  “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d look at me exactly like you’re looking at me right now.”

  Sarah froze. Her stomach dropped. Her anger clashed with something deeper, something messier. And for a split second—She didn’t know what to say. But Steve did. And his next words shattered everything.

  “I didn’t want to lose you before I even had you.”

  This is part of a series of stories that have lived solely in my head for many years, and I’ve finally started writing them as serialized fiction books. If you think the story sucks, feel free to tell me—it’s all part of the process. That said, I’m also looking for constructive criticism, so any suggestions are welcome and will be considered as I work to improve the series.