Sunlight flashed across the surface of the polished dagger as it flew into the air. It cast a shadow on the cobblestones as rising turned to falling. Lyra caught it by the blade – which dealt her no damage, as she sat in the middle of the city of Genesis – and ran her fingers along its length. The metal was warm. The world of Talrae was almost too perfect. So many details were wonderfully replicated. If circumstances had been different, it might have become a second home to Lyra.

	Instead, all the others were calling it a prison. Some scurried through the city on what appeared to be urgent business; others wailed, and some stared blankly at their surroundings, as if shocked. Only a few minutes had passed since the demon king had made his surreal announcement. Death in Talrae was death in real life. And he had killed a girl to prove it.

	Of course, there was still a chance that the whole affair was some misguided stunt. That girl might have awoken in the place from which she’d dived, unharmed. The news articles the demon king had shown off might have been fabricated. That seemed like the most likely possibility. If it were the truth, Lyra expected the disconnections would begin soon. A few people would risk calling the demon king’s bluff, and if it paid off, word would spread. So, she sat on the side of a decorated fountain not far from the scene of the demon king’s theatrics, tossing her dagger up and down, waiting for the disappearances she did not really believe would occur. 

	The girl’s brutal death had been painful to watch. But, for some reason, Lyra was not afraid. In fact, another emotion was welling up inside her. One she could scarcely remember feeling. Excitement.

	Lyra was not oblivious to the looks she was getting from the other players. She appeared too calm. They were freaking out, and she was just sitting there. She imagined they thought she was bored; she was not. In fact, she had to fight to keep the smile from her face. Not only did she not expect her fellow ‘prisoners’ to disappear, but she didn’t want them to. Because she didn’t feel like a prisoner. She might not be able to log out, but for the first time in years, she was free.

	Her attention was drawn by a soft splash. She turned and blinked as a coin descended to the bottom of the fountain, then vanished in a spark of light. It didn’t take long for Lyra to realize why that coin had been thrown. A plaque not far from where she was sitting declared the fountain to be a wishing well. Apparently, some players felt so helpless that they were surrendering their valuable property in the hopes of gaining the blessing of ‘luck.’ 

	If they had really been lucky, they wouldn’t be here. It was too bad the dropped coins disappeared; otherwise, she would have been happy to take them.

	Instead, she watched as the surface of the water steadied. She was then staring at her own reflection. Of course, the avatar she had created was gone, and what she was looking at was her ‘true’ self. Yet, at the same time, it was not.

	The eyes she met were the same brown as she’d encountered every other day, but this time, there was life in them. Her skin remained pale, but yet looked healthy. Everything was as it always should have been. Lyra smiled, then shifted her eyes to the name and health bar hovering over her head.

	[i]Fyaira.[/i]

	That was the name that she had chosen when logging in, and, though her face had been revealed, it was the name she still had even now. She ran her fingers through her dark hair. Fyaira. That name fit the person she now saw. Going forward, she would keep it. Although the girl she had been that morning looked like her twin, she was not Lyra any longer. Not here.

	She sheathed her daggers and sat with her hands folded atop her lap. No one was vanishing. The demon king’s words had been no lie.

	“So,” she said, talking to no one in particular. “I wonder where we go from here.”