A green light flashed in Avery’s head-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, glitching 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, and today, there was mortal stress etched into his avatar’s brow.

Triggered by Ferrox’s voice, the synth music dipped. “Good afternoon. We have suffered a loss this afternoon, 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 his hands, clenching them slightly inside 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.” He shifted in his seat. “Raven won’t join us. She’s being treated for shock. I’ll speak with her when she’s ready.” Ferrox’s voice softened. “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.” Avery’s voice steadied. “She was excited about finishing the NPC module upgrades. Pumped, even.”

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

“Not Pyra,” Avery said firmly. “If she wasn’t happy, she’d let everyone know.”
Ferrox raised both palms. “Okay, she was pumped. But excitement can be a fragile mask, Avery. Even you might’ve missed something.”

Avery stifled a grimace.

Ferrox leaned forward. “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, his voice sharp. “They’d bicker one minute, then laugh like best friends over coffee the next.”

Ferrox studied him, eyes narrowing. “Some of the team see it differently.”

Avery’s jaw clenched, but he resisted the urge to shake his head. Ferrox studied him for a moment. “You were at the Mexican food stall near the gate. What did you see?”

Avery’s eyes dropped to look at his hands again. “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 frowned. “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 insisted.  “She was making hand motions, like she was navigating menus. We screamed her name; she didn’t flinch. She didn’t look depressed, either.”

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

Avery shrugged, frustration simmering. “All I know is she wasn’t reacting to the real world.”

Ferrox’s expression hardened. “Your concern is noted. Let’s move on.”
Avery’s jaw dropped, disbelief surging. His Bioflux band chirped, flashing as his heart rate spiked.

Ferrox’s own band chimed, and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. “This is stressful for everyone, Avery.  Let’s mute our 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 exceptions.”

He turned to Garry. “Did you notice anything unusual with Pyra before the accident?”

Garry glanced at Steve, who shrugged. “We were handling a delivery,” Garry said. “I didn’t see her pass the gate, not until we checked the 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 exhaled heavily. “Send me the CCTV files. Every angle you have.”

“It’s not very clear,” Steve said, “but I’ll send what we have.”

“Thanks,” Ferrox said. “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.”

Avery’s eyebrows shot up. “I was hoping for a couple of days. I need time to process this.”

“I know it’s a lot,” Ferrox snapped at Avery. “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 looked thoughtful for a moment. “I tell you what. Take tomorrow off. Fish at the pier, clear your head. You can make up the time next week.”

Avery shrugged. “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 firmly. “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 dropped into a crouch, clenching his fists. 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 crushing him.

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

He swore under his breath. Guards like Garry and Steve could log out and walk away. Developers? They were chained to the VR world 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 pushed him toward compliance. But something was wrong. He knew it. He wouldn’t stop until he had proof.