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They had been walking long enough that the campus thinned into storefronts, traffic, and pedestrians drifting home for the evening. The late afternoon had softened. The harshness of the sun gave way to a warmer light that stretched shadows across the pavement.

Zack was in the middle of an argument.

"I’m telling you, the gun feels illegal," he said.

Zoey glanced at him. "It’s a gun in a video game."

"That doesn’t change the feeling."

"You’ve never even used it."

"I’ve watched three videos."

"That’s not using it."

"It is research."

"It is YouTube."

"Research happens on YouTube."

Camilla walked between them, listening without much interest as Zack continued, undeterred.

"And if they haven’t nerfed the recoil, you build around it. High mobility, fast ADS, decent armor, then you just—"

Zoey stopped so abruptly that Camilla nearly walked into her.

"What?" Zoey asked, though nobody had said anything.

Zack had already seen it.

Across the street, tucked between a phone-repair shop and a small café with drinks displayed in colors that looked chemically irresponsible, was a game shop. The front window was crowded with posters and promotional displays. A large screen mounted behind the glass played a looping trailer filled with explosions, gunfire, and soldiers sprinting through smoke.

Two boys were visible inside, hunched over a console. One suddenly threw his hands into the air.

"You had one job!"

His friend laughed. "I did my job. You died."

"You left me!"

"You were already dead."

"I was down!"

"You were dead emotionally."

Zack’s grin appeared instantly. "Oh yes."

Zoey’s expression fell. "Oh no."

"Oh, absolutely yes." Zack was already crossing the street. "We’re going in."

"We are not."

"We are."

"We’re going to be late."

"For what?"

Zoey opened her mouth, paused, then looked at Stan. Stan smiled.

She pointed at him. "Don’t encourage him."

"I didn’t say anything."

"You smiled."

"That’s not encouragement."

"With Zack, it is."

Camilla’s attention had already shifted toward the shop. The door was open, and cool air drifted onto the sidewalk, carrying the faint sounds of gunfire and music. She looked through the glass.

Ever since Uno, games had occupied a quiet corner of her attention. Stan had introduced her to cards and chess as though they were artifacts from a smaller war. She had initially considered them childish distractions. Then she had discovered that they required prediction, observation, deception, patience. There was something satisfying about that.

This looked different. Louder. Faster. Instead of pieces sitting patiently on a board, figures sprinted through explosions while bullets crossed the screen.

Camilla watched one of the players lean forward in concentration. Then she looked at Stan.

"We should go in."

Zoey sighed. "You too?"

Camilla gave a small nod. "If I have to listen to Zack discuss this game for another week, I would prefer to understand what he is talking about."

Zack pointed at her. "Exactly."

Zoey stared at him. "That wasn’t support."

"I’ll take it."

They crossed the street.

The moment they stepped inside, a cool draft brushed over them. The shop was deeper than it looked from outside. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with game cases and accessories. Controllers hung from hooks behind the counter. Several gaming stations occupied the center of the room, while a row of free-play setups sat against the far wall.

Every few seconds, one of the screens flashed with some variation of violence. An explosion. A race. A sword through something that probably had an unnecessarily complicated name. A fighting-game character launched another character through a wall.

Zoey looked around. "Okay."

Zack looked at her. "Okay what?"

"I understand why you like this place."

Zack smiled. "Thank you."

"I didn’t say it was healthy."

The attendant behind the counter looked up. He was young, probably only a few years older than them, wearing a black gaming shirt with a lanyard around his neck. A headset rested around his shoulders. He took one look at the four of them.

"You four look like trouble."

Zack stepped forward. "We’re actually very responsible."

The attendant glanced at the game playing on the nearest screen, then back at Zack. "You walked in here with the confidence of someone who has never read a terms-of-service agreement."

Zoey laughed.

Zack put a hand against his chest. "That was personal."

"I’ve been working here since noon. I’ve had three people rage-quit, one kid cry because his controller wasn’t connected, and a grown man threaten to sue us because he lost at FIFA." He gestured toward the shop. "You’re already an improvement."

Zoey leaned against the counter. "What do you recommend for people who have absolutely no idea what they’re doing?"

The attendant pointed around the store. "Depends. Racing if you want something simple. Fighting games if you enjoy discovering how little patience you have. Co-op if you actually like your friends." He looked at Zack. "And shooters if you don’t."

Zack nodded thoughtfully. "Warzone."

The attendant didn’t even blink. "Of course."

Zack pointed toward one of the screens. "That’s what I’m talking about."

Zoey folded her arms. "You didn’t even let him finish."

"He didn’t need to."

The attendant shrugged. "Fair enough. Warzone is over there."

Zack was already moving. "Drop, loot, third-party, cry, queue again."

The attendant followed. "You’ve played before?"

"Obviously."

"Good."

"I’m practically a professional."

Zoey called from behind him. "He has watched professionals."

The attendant stopped. "Oh."

Zack turned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means I suddenly feel responsible for the other three."

Zoey laughed.

The attendant continued toward the stations. "Warzone is simple enough. Big map. You drop in, find equipment, survive, and shoot anyone who gets in your way."

Camilla listened. "And if you die?"

"You start again."

She frowned slightly. "That seems inefficient."

The attendant looked at her. "That’s the entire business model."

Stan chuckled.

The attendant noticed. "You’re not playing?"

"I might."

Zack looked offended. "Might?"

Stan shrugged. "I have somewhere to be."

Zack pointed at him. "Coward."

"I’ll leave you to your war." Stan smiled as he said this softly..

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