The thunderous cacophony of the torrential storm outside echoed the long, arduous day Ilya had endured. From the very beginning of the day, it felt as though life itself was plotting her downfall— her bicycle’s chain snapped on the way to work, her manager had been in a bad mood and dropped a ton of administrative tasks on her desk, and she’d been caught in the thunderstorm on the way home. She felt a weariness for the world that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Being both physically and emotionally depleted, she shrugged off her coat, slipped out of her boots, and took in a deep breath. Her studio, her outlook on which was marred by the tumultuous day she’d had, felt like a mundane, colourless void bereft of any semblance of life. Grey curtains framed small windows on one side, overlooking a messy desk with several unwashed bowls and glasses. Up above, a lightbulb, the sole source of light illuminating the space, shone dimly, bathing the entirety of the room in a somber, almost melancholic glow. If a room were to be decorated to mirror how Ilya felt tonight, it’d be precisely this — maybe without any light at all.
Drawing in another deep breath, Ilya strode across to her PC and flipped the switch. Just as she’d done nearly every day for the last two years, she hurriedly typed her password and sat herself down. No sooner had the wondrous login screen transitioned into the orchestral music of the city, than her guild chat began to light up with a flurry of messages:
Guildie #1 [guild]: “Hey Ilya!!”
Guildie #2 [guild]: “Thought you weren’t coming so I put some dinner on. I’ll be back in 5. Good to see you btw.”
Rob [guild]: “I told y’all we could trust Ilya to degen with us. You damn naysayers!”
Guildie #3 [guild]: “Hey, omg, do you wanna do some raids tonight? No worries if you’re not up to it (but I really wanna beat the kobold loser so pls say yes)”
Then, the signature jingle of a private message sounded — one she’d specifically chosen for her first friend in the entire game, Yara.
Yara [private]: “Hey!!! We were all super worried you weren’t logging in tonight, since you usually log in way earlier.”
Ilya [private]: “Yeah, sorry… I’ve had a really long day…”
Yara [private]: “I’m super sorry to hear that — want to talk about it after raid?”
Ilya [private]: “Omg, raid’s tonight, isn’t it? Shit, I forgot to practise my rotation after the new patch…”
Yara: [private]: “No worries, you’ve had two years of practice on the old rotation, and the new one’s not too different. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get in the instance before Rob falls asleep.”
Though the day had been trying, the weariness of it all was slowly but surely washed away the longer she settled into the game. The barrage of messages felt overwhelming at first, but soon a soft smile — one that echoed true belonging — found its perch on Ilya’s lips. She had never met any of them in real life, but she knew just how valuable each and every moment that they spent on the game was to them. In a world of infinite possibilities, this small community she’d helped build over the years chose to log in daily to spend time with each other simply for the sake of enjoying one another’s company. They could choose to spend their time travelling the world, learning new languages, they could be doing absolutely anything — but instead, each day, they chose to be here. They chose to spend unconditional (that is, aside from equally distributing loot during raid nights) time with one another simply because they enjoyed one another’s company.
Ilya had reflected on this often. The messages she received were not predicated on something material she could offer them; there was no lucrative gain to be had by befriending Ilya. Rather, they were born out of a pure, unadulterated bond that only those belonging to a tight-knit community could ever know. Her guild members were well and truly looking forward to her presence, which warmed Ilya’s heart beyond words. Gone were the awkward days, early in the game’s history, when Ilya and Yara first exchanged tentative messages. They’d now built a community together, sown seeds of trust among the dozen odd people in their guild, and this was part of everyone’s daily routine. Ilya couldn’t imagine a day going by where she wasn’t looking forward to logging into the game at night and spending time with the people that she loved — yes, she loved them. Yara, Rob, and everyone else.
Ilya [guild]: “Hey, everyone. Sorry to be late. I just wanted to say… trigger warning — you can turn gchat off now if you’re allergic to cringe lol.”
Ilya [guild]: “I’ve had a terrible day, like…a really bad day. I wanted to cry for most of it. I feel emotionally exhausted and physically ready to collapse. But seeing all of your messages as soon as I log in, I honestly want to cry. Thank you all so much for being a part of my life. I couldn’t ask for better friends than all of you. Thank you so much for being part of our community, thank you for being there to pick me up when things are shit. I may not always be the best at showing it, but I really can’t imagine you guys not being in my life. I can’t imagine not playing this game with you all every day. So, thank you…”
llya [guild]: “I’m ready for raid btw <3”
Rob & Yara [guild]: “We got you <3”
Yara [private]: “That was really brave and vulnerable. Proud of you ♥ Always here if you wanna chat about RL or whatever.”
As the party invite pop-up appeared on Ilya’s screen, she cast aside the stray (happy) tears that were threatening to cloud her vision, reached for her headphones, and prepared herself for a night of difficult encounters alongside her friends — no, her family.
***
The clock had struck midnight but a few moments prior, and yet the Royal Oak inn was anything but quiet or empty. Quite conversely, nearly every corner of the city’s most popular social venue was filled with members of the Order of the Blue Phoenix who were celebrating their hard-fought victory in the raid encounter through the night. Some used a particular glitch in the physics engine to execute their dance emotes mid air, whilst others played celebratory (potentially copyrighted, don’t tell the devs) music on their in-game instruments. Confetti filled the air and bottles of proverbial champagne were uncorked, filling the space with an almost comical cacophony of stock sound effects.
The bar was rarely astir this late, and yet tonight it quaked with this palpable and profound energy. One that resonated deeply with those who celebrated the victory tonight. Never before had Ilya seen anything like it. Certainly not in the real world. But, it made complete sense. After all, what they’d just achieved was nearly inconceivable to the group only a few short weeks ago.
The Kobold king, Arkvay, was an exceptionally difficult raid which required very precise teamwork to coordinate resolving the mechanics the developers had given him — some of which were controversial. One in particular required the DPS members of the group to execute their rotation frame perfectly and achieve a combined DPS of 3,000. Aside from the elite raid groups that spent their entire lives practising their rotations until they had perfected them, very few players could ever hope to meet that lofty threshold. Tonight, though it was an unlikely feat, the Order of the Blue Phoenix, joined the hallowed ranks of the 3000 DPSers. Actually, they totalled 3015. This was mostly thanks to Ilya’s efforts. Together, Ilya’s guild members harmoniously showered her with praise:
Yara [guild]: “Omg I can’t believe how good your DPS was tonight, Ilya! Seriously who are you???”
Rob [guild]: “That was INSANE! SERIOUSLY Ilya you are a BEAST. You and Yara both built this guild from nothing, and now look where we are. I hope you are really damn proud of yourselves. I can’t imagine being anywhere else rn.”
Guildie #4 [guild]: “Ok guys I’m retiring from this game because Ilya literally out dps’d all of us when she doesn’t even have BIS yet.”
Ilya [guild]: “It’s all in the axe 🤭”
Ilya replied, feeling a euphoric wave of accomplishment wash over her as she received the praise and adulation of her peers humbly. There were very few moments in Ilya’s ordinary life where she could feel as though she was genuinely amazing at something — but online, she felt as though she really was special. One of a kind. And there was always something so unique, so authentic about gamers in the way that they praised one another. Whilst a colleague at work might give you a thumbs-up or a smile, gamers were rarely afraid to let you really know what they thought. This usually came in the form of screams over voice chat or their unbridled use of the caps lock key. And that is precisely what Ilya had happily endured. If only my boss knew just how good I really was…
Despite the late hour, Yara, Ilya’s co-founder, ushered the guild chat’s spam to a halt. She had an especially important message to share; one that demanded everyone’s attention.
Yara [guild]: “Hey, everyone, I just received a letter in the mail and I need you all to pay attention.”
The guild’s chat slowed from its incessant and endless scroll to but a few caps-laden messages, paving the way for Yara to share this important message. Ilya held her breath and arched a brow. What could it possibly be?
Yara [guild]: “So, the devs acknowledge that this raid is incredibly hard. In fact, only fifteen groups (we’re sixteenth) have ever cleared it. So, uh, we’re each getting a ticket to exchange for a rare, custom weapon with our characters’ names engraved on them… I’m distributing them right now. We can redeem them from Azkar. Before I distribute them, can I get everyone to send Ilya a thank you for getting us here?”
Ilya’s quivering hands reached for her headphones, slowly lifting them and, with an exceptionally slow and almost exaggerated delay, she set them on her desk beside her keyboard. She soon placed her hands on her cheeks and stared almost incredulously at the message Yara had just relayed to them. The message itself was soon lost to the hungry chasm that was the once-again caps-filled scrolling chat log praising her, but Ilya still continued to stare — once at the message, now at nothing. This didn’t feel real. It felt surreal. No one in her life would ever understand the true weight of this moment. Not her parents, nor her friends, nor her boss. She was truly amazing, and no one would ever understand.
She smiled.