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No footsteps half a step behind me, covering my back.
As I clear the first objective, a completion chime sounds. I move to the designated polygon on the floor and wait for the second level to load.
The facility’s lower level opens into a wider space with catwalks and multiple entry points. Three guards patrol in formation. I pick them off one by one, each shot perfect.
Headshot.
Headshot.
Headshot.
Too easy.
When Kain plays, he ups the difficulty. He calls out the order of the targets, tells me the body part to aim for, or sets timers.
Thirty seconds to clear this room.
Without him, the challenge exists, but my body refuses to meet it. My heart rate never climbs. My breathing stays even and slow. The game has become a series of inputs with no charge.
This won’t count toward my health tracker. Which is fine. I hate the health tracker. Except that Kain likes the proof that I’m taking care of myself.
I reach the extraction point, and the final sequence loads, a sprint through a gauntlet of automated turrets that demands I time my movement between their firing cycles. I’ve done this so many times I could map the turrets’ rotation patterns in my sleep.
I clear it without taking a hit and step into the extraction vehicle.
Mission complete.
The score screen pops up.
Perfect accuracy.
No deaths.
No alarms triggered.
The perfect score brings no satisfaction.
The numbers on the screen mean nothing.
The next level loads, a nighttime urban environment taking shape around me with pointed rooftops and narrow alleys.
I move through the first section on autopilot. Two guards on a rooftop.
Headshot.
Headshot.
A drone patrols the street below.
I wait for its scan cycle to complete, then drop it with a single shot.
Halfway through navigating a narrow ledge, I stop moving.
My gun hangs at my side as I stand surrounded by a city rendered in blues and grays stretching to the horizon, digital dust motes blowing across the scene. An enemy patrol moves through the street below, ripe to be taken out.
I don’t take the shot.
The game runs on, a silent city around me, but my feet are planted firmly in the gym. Here, there’s no one to tell me to drink. No one to tell me what to do next.
