Another Life, Different Eyes.

For a moment, I stood on the threshold of the Harmony Clan. The digital sky of Altverse was a canvas of electric violets and blues, dotted with crystalline islands.

Simply a wonderful sight. The lights of the citadel, golden globes suspended in the air like giant fireflies, emitted a warmth I would never find in the dim spotlights of my room or the bare bulbs in the kitchen, illuminating only screams and chaos.

Breathe deeply that virtual air. It wasn't real, but... it felt so alive and clean.

And I smiled.

It wasn't a tense smile, nor was it fake. It came from the depths of my being. It was authentic. It felt as if an atrophied muscle had finally remembered its function.
It was the smile of someone who had taken off their armor after several centuries.

—!Look at those deals! —I said, my voice ringing clear and strong in the air filled with murmurs and laughter, as I passed by the stalls of the virtual market. A holographic elf offered potions that glowed like liquid emeralds, while an orc in brass armor touted swords that left trails of light.

I continued walking through the market stalls, realizing something.
My tone sounded like me... but it didn't feel like the me on the sidewalk or in the empty room. 

He was stronger.

Lighter.

Happier.

Here, the words “offers” meant nothing compared to real life. They didn't smell like fights over money at home; they smelled like new adventures, tools beyond imagination to explore this infinite world.

It was clearly me, but not the same me.

It was the version she chose to be, the one that real life had buried under layers of silence.

I joined the Harmony Clan. The dark wooden castle with intertwined beams and blue neon lights was more than just a building; it was a beating heart.

I decided to enter the castle, and inside the bustle was a welcoming symphony:

Voices discussing raid strategies, intense laughter after an inside joke, the metallic clinking of virtual glasses colliding. It was like a large medieval tavern straight out of a fantasy book, but with holograms of statistics floating above the tables and anime-style avatars with impossible hair and disproportionate eyes.

The smell of virtual wood, sweet data beer, and digital stress dust flooded my senses.

This is where I belong.

Among the crowd of people, I saw Sacres, a great friend, my rock in this ocean of bits. Sometimes, more than a friend, I considered him my true father.
He was sitting at his usual table near the holographic fireplace. He was drinking from a clay jug that bubbled with a golden liquid and emitted a bluish vapor.

— ¡Ey, Asimil! — he called out in his deep voice.
His avatar, a man with ebony skin, powerful but serene muscles, and a completely shaved head that glistened under the light of the virtual home, radiated an unwavering calm. His gaze, stormy gray but calm, greeted me.
He commanded respect by his mere presence, but he also exuded a solid confidence, like a hundred-year-old tree.

I approached and sat down in front of him. Automatically, a cup identical to his appeared before me, filled with the same golden, steaming liquid.

— How did it go at school? —he asked, his voice a low purr that cut through the surrounding hubbub. The question was direct, to the point. Sacres always got straight to the point. It was one of the things she appreciated... and that sometimes hurt more than it should have.

He took a virtual sip, and I... just stared at my glass.

The happiness of the digital world faded a little, as if a cloud had passed in front of the inner sun of Altverse.

— It's crap, —I replied with complete sincerity, without holding back.
Here, with him, I could let go of the weight. I didn't need to pretend to be strong. —Just for carrying this damn keychain... again. —I grabbed the small glass portal hanging from my virtual backpack, displaying a dynamic scene from my favorite anime.

Sacres followed my gaze to the key ring. His expression, always serene, showed a flash of deep understanding.

—Listen, Asimil, the place where these stories were born, where these worlds were forged... — he said, his deep voice resonating with a calmness that invited listening, "an object like that would not be a target. It would be a passport. A source of pride, even. A way to find your tribe without hiding.

He took another slow sip. — It's funny, isn't it? What in one corner of the world is a source of ridicule and exclusion, in another is the key to being part of something bigger. 

He chuckled, a harsh but warm sound. His shoulder, broad as an anvil, shook slightly. — You haven't changed, eh. — His gray gaze fell on me again, not with judgment, but with a heavy knowledge.  —But the world around you... that really should change.

I looked at the golden liquid in my glass. Had I changed? In the real world, no. I was still the ghost, the one who swallowed insults. But here... here it was different. Or was it? Sacres was right. Somewhere else, maybe I wouldn't even need this virtual refuge to feel... normal. The question echoed inside me, sharper now.

— No. I don't, — I finally said. I could hear the bitterness in my virtual voice. Perhaps the essence of pain was the same on both sides, but the rules of the game... those were cruel and different depending on where you happened to be born.

At that point, Sacres remained silent for a few seconds, although to me they seemed like an eternity.

— Listen, Asimil, I know life is hard, especially considering the circumstances we've had to deal with, but it's not what defines you; it's what's inside you.

Sacres seemed serious, but even so, I could sense some warmth in his words. It was what I always wanted to hear. He was always like a father to me...

— Remember this: let your smile change the world, not the world change your smile...

Heh... when I heard that, I wanted to cry, but my pride wouldn't let me.

But that magical bubble of paternal calm suddenly vanished when a crescendo of voices rose from the back of the large main hall. A murmur of interest, then giggles, then somewhat forced exclamations of welcome. The energy of the place changed, becoming electric, charged with curiosity.

— Who arrived? — I asked, leaning forward slightly. My curiosity, always dormant in the real world, was alive here.

Sacres peered over my shoulder, his gray eyes scanning the crowd that was beginning to gather near the main entrance.

— A new girl... it seems, — he said, his tone neutral, analytical. But I noticed a slight arch in his eyebrow. Unusual for him.

I turned my head. And I saw her.
She was surrounded by a semicircle of avatars, from warriors in gleaming armor to magicians in ethereal robes.

Everyone was curious, some with broad, almost unsettling smiles, but others scanned her figure with an intensity that bordered on rudeness. She was the center of attention, but she didn't seem overwhelmed.

She had reddish hair, but not just any red, an intense red cut into a bob that reached her neck, simply impeccable.
Four deliberate strands, longer than the rest, fell across her forehead.
Her eyes were green, but not just any green. They were intense, liquid emerald green, capturing the light of the room and reflecting it back with an almost hypnotic glow.

They contrasted sharply with her skin, which was as pale as porcelain, almost translucent. Her figure was slim and agile, dressed not in epic armor, but in urban, slightly retro elegance: a short cream-colored jacket, a warm brown pleated knee-length skirt, black fishnet stockings, and a virtual silk blouse in a soft pink that accentuated the delicacy of her neck and the curve of her shoulders. 

And she smiled. Not a shy or nervous smile. It was a broad, confident smile that lit up her face and showed off her perfect teeth. She smiled as if the world was still worth living in, as if the darkness I carried with me didn't exist in her universe.

It was disconcerting.

Attractive.

Dangerous.

—Who is she?— I asked, unable to take my eyes off her.
There was something... magnetic about her. An energy that attracted attention and, at the same time, sent out a “do not touch” signal.

Sacres leaned back in his chair, crossing his powerful arms. His gaze remained fixed on the scene.

— What do you think? I insisted, needing his judgment, his experience. Sacres saw beyond appearances.

He took a moment to respond, his gray eyes fixed on Noelia, changing slightly in tone, a slight iridescence that I recognized. He was using that nameless spell, the one I called the Eye of Clairvoyance. Meanwhile, Noelia chatted animatedly with a sorceress, her laughter clear as bells floating over to our table.

—I haven't decided yet,— he finally murmured, his tone cautious and reserved. That, more than any words, put me on alert. If Sacres still didn't trust me...
A wave of feelings —curiosity? —Defiance? —Attraction? —pushed me to get up before I could process it. Those feelings gave me the push I needed to get up from my seat and leave Sacres for a moment.

Noelia was just a few steps away, surrounded, shining. As I passed by the edge of the crowd, looking for a way out to the virtual study area, our eyes met.

Her emerald eyes locked onto mine for a fleeting, intense moment. I desperately searched for something in them: a hint of recognition, a spark of curiosity, even the disdain I was used to. But nothing... There was only a quick flash, a neutral and cold assessment, as if she were scanning an object of no interest, and then she looked away to the next person speaking to her, her smile intact.

—Heh, pretty and cold too, — I thought, the impression striking me like a dart. A contrast that was both fascinating and repellent at the same time.

That was when a player, an orc warrior with programmed or feigned clumsiness, stumbled ostentatiously toward her as he tried to make his way through the crowd. It wasn't a simple brush. It was a deliberate collision, his shoulder hitting Noelia's with enough force to make her stagger. The orc let out a laugh, but not one of embarrassment or concern; it just seemed... fake.

— Oops, sorry, little princess! These hallways are too crowded for someone so... delicate!

The crowd fell silent for a second, expectant. I stopped, tense.

What happened next was not what he expected.

Noelia didn't blush.

She didn't apologize.

She didn't even feign a forced smile.

Instead of apologizing, she frowned. The corners of her mouth, previously raised in that sunny smile, flattened into a hard line. Her emerald eyes, previously warm, grew cold until they became icy. She looked at the clumsy orc not with fear or discomfort, but with a firmness that cut through the air.

—Next time, watch where you're going, — he said, his voice clear, crisp, projecting effortlessly. There was no shouting, nothing to disturb the atmosphere, but each word cut through the air with the cold edge of a steel blade. — Or learn to control your avatar. Clumsiness is no excuse for bad manners.

The orc stood open-mouthed, laughter frozen on his grotesque face. A murmur of surprise rippled through the group. No one scolded Gromm like that, known for his “accidents” with new female players.

—What's wrong with him?— I muttered as I turned back toward Sacres. The reaction had been disproportionate by any standard; it was too intense for a simple virtual stumble. 

— Maybe she's just direct,— whispered Sacres, although his tone suggested he didn't entirely believe it. His gray eyes followed Noelia, who had already turned away, completely ignoring the stunned orc, her smile reappearing instantly as she resumed her conversation with the sorceress as if nothing had happened. — Or... — he added, lowering his voice even further to a whisper that only I could hear, — she's hiding something. Maybe she doesn't want to be touched, not even here.

A strange chill that I shouldn't have felt in Altverse ran through my body.
Sacres was right. That girl, Noelia, with her dazzling smile and icy stare, combining her elegance and fierce reaction, something didn't fit...

She was an enigma wrapped in red pixels.

I simply didn't respond. All I did was nod my head as I felt the air, once clean, take on a metallic taste of caution.
That could only mean one thing: there were duties to be done, but... Not here, but in the real world.

And yet, the image of those green eyes, first warm and then icy, and Sacres' words—“She's hiding something”—stayed with me, floating in my mind.

The other world was calling me, but for the first time, the shadow of reality seemed to seep in even here, in my refuge. And she had red hair and her name was Noelia.