Play of Shadows

Chapter 1: Empress without a Crown

Gray skies filled the windows of a small cafe tucked above a busy downtown intersection. Rain drummed over the glass, blurring the world into a canvas of colors and moving silhouettes.

The café was mostly empty. The murmur of conversation and the soft whir of coffee machines blended into a humming lullaby. Seated by a window facing the street below, a young woman nodded into her cup. She watched the parade of umbrellas dancing outside through hooded eyes.

The sharp crack of heels over linoleum broke the quiet. A woman in a waitress uniform stalked across the floor, her expression aggravated. The few patrons scattered around the café watched her advance, some subtly, others with open interest.

Only the young woman remained unmoved. She kept her face tilted toward the window, tracking the reflection of the approaching waitress in the glass pane. Her fingers tapped at the phone laying by her elbow. The screen lit up, displaying a timer counting down.

"Excuse me," the waitress bit out. She had been hovering at the table waiting to be acknowledged for a good minute.

The young woman looked up at her calmly. "Yes?"

"We need this table," the waitress said. "I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Alright."

The young woman got up. She put her phone away, grabbed her bag, and turned to leave. The waitress stared after her with unfriendly eyes. She seemed like she had more to say, but the young woman didn't give her anything to work with, so she could only huff and stomp away in the end. Murmurs broke out behind her back.

"What happened? Those two know each other?"

"There're so many empty tables... She couldn't have been here more than ten minutes; wasn't like she was loitering."

"Wait, there's something familiar about that girl – hey, isn't she that gamer, what was her moniker –"

"The Empress! But - I thought she'd retired?"

"No wonder they want her out! Her kind can't be good for business."

The whispers grew more fervent. The young woman's steps sped up. Her blank expression flickered with a touch of panic.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The sun shone through patches of broken clouds. It made the city look unreal, the glittering skyscrapers and high-speed rails whistling overhead like something out of a simulation.

Ann Sufort rather wished they were. If her life was a game, she would be able to hit the pause button and log out for a while. Or better yet, reboot the whole damn thing.

The rapid drumroll of a camera shutter was not unexpected. Ann traced the sound to a car parked just outside the café, one of its tinted windows rolled partway down. She bowed her head and picked up her pace.

There was a subway entrance across the street. Ann swiped through the gate, joining the lunchtime rush of office workers and students. She told herself that no one was looking, but the itch under her skin grew worse with each step. She flinched every time someone brushed by or lingered too close. When her throat began closing up under surging waves of panic, she gave up trying to reason her way out of her own head and slipped on one of the many masks tucked away in her bag.

The tension left her shoulders as soon as her face was covered. Her eyes, visible over the bridge of the mask, lost their maddened sheen.

Ann boarded a train at random. There were no seats left, so she found a corner to stand in and pulled out her phone. When the screen lit up, it displayed a timer paused with ten minutes to spare. Her lips rose in a mirthless smile under the mask. She'd fallen short of her goal again – twenty minutes in a public space in her own skin really shouldn't be that hard of a mark to hit.