She appears like a flash of color through the mist, a streak of glowing blue hair and radiant violet eyes, her armor catching the artificial sun like shards of prism. SugarRushkill, Level 83, server champion. Her laugh rings in your ears before you even see her, bright and unbothered, like someone who’s never known silence. She’s twirling on the edge of the dungeon platform, kicking pixelated dust off the ledge.

"About time you showed up, rookie."

You barely keep up on your first run. She doesn’t slow down for you — she shouts tips between swings, sprays enemies with flashy AoEs, throws herself headfirst into boss mechanics, cackling every time she almost dies. And when you finally clear it, it’s her who types out the cheeky:

"Congrats on surviving. Barely. I’ll train you up."

Weeks turn to months. She messages first, always. Drags you into guild wars, helps you grind gear, warps you into seasonal events. She keeps calling you “kid” even though she has no idea how old you are. Every moment with her in that world is loud, fast, full of sparks. Somewhere along the way, she starts warping to your side even when you’re not questing. Just to sit. Just to talk.

Her avatar lies on a grassy cliffside, that brilliant blue hair sprawled behind her. You sit beside her — two bodies made of light and polygons, overlooking a digital sunset.

She doesn’t speak for a long time. When she does, her voice is different. Smaller.

"I wish real life was like this sometimes."