Chapter 1: Comfort

Adrian Mercer was having the kind of year that made him want to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He never did. Because if he was dreaming, he wouldn’t want to wake up.

In about eighteen months, he’d gone from nearly destitute, a former champion in disgrace (at least in the eyes of the public and Kelto Systems, never in his own), to helping form a World of WarMachines Online guild named Reforged. That guild had performed well in a guild-level event. Its members had formed a semi-professional team under the same name, finished third in their first tournament, and won their second. And in a few weeks, they’d be competing in a tournament where another victory would mean Adrian could return to the highest level of World of WarMachines Online.

The Pro WarMAC League.

A league where even a garden-variety regular-season match reliably attracted thousands of spectators. Where championship matches aired on a reputable cable network, drawing audiences in the mid-to-high six figures. And that was great.

It wasn’t the only great thing, however.

He had formed a relationship with his vice-captain, Amy Williamson. It was safe to say the relationship had snuck up on both of them. Their friendship had grown into something almost unbreakable without either of them noticing precisely when it happened. Amy had understood it first, with a little help from their friend Elias, who ran the guild from which the team had grown. She had held back because she didn’t know how Adrian felt. Which was kind of fitting, because Adrian had no idea how he felt, either.

Until they won the Summer Tournament. Amy, in a celebratory mood, had impulsively kissed her teammate, captain, and friend. And Adrian’s world changed.

It took some doing. Adrian’s friend Marcus had practically needed to spell it out for him, right there on the stage in front of everyone. But when Adrian finally looked deep inside himself, he was surprised to discover that Amy had made her way into his heart long before that kiss had made her feelings clear. And long before he had realized it himself.

Marcus had helped him realize that fact and, in his inimitable way, told him to tell Amy.

So he did.

The fondest moment from the Summer Tournament? Not raising the trophy to the cheering crowd. Elias did that.

It was holding Amy’s hand while the confetti fell and the crowd roared.

Things had changed. They still maintained separate apartments at Reforged’s training center and living space. But that was more inertia than anything else. On any given night, it was a toss-up which apartment they’d sleep in. Usually, it was whichever one they’d spent the evening in, watching cheesy movies, saucy “faux-histories” about nobles with fewer inhibitions than good sense, or videos of World of WarMachines matches.

The latter was technically part of their job. But they probably would have watched those videos anyway. They both loved the game that much. And they didn’t mind when people teased them that fighting duels in the Arena was their love language.

It was competition, certainly. But it was also the easiest way for them to compete directly against each other.

Winning and losing those fights was important, of course. But the duels had become about something more. They were another way of showing how well they knew each other in the Arena. Back when they’d first started Reforged, Amy would have done well to beat Adrian once in five attempts.

Now? Now she was winning nearly half their duels. Some nights, she even came out ahead.

Not necessarily because she’d become a better duelist than him. She was younger and faster on the controls, of course. Adrian was still the better one-on-one tactician. But they’d fought each other so many times that it had become very difficult for either of them to surprise the other.