Nico woke up. He felt an unreal calmness, his body numb, light, almost separate from himself. Then his senses returned one by one: his mouth felt bitter, his throat dry. In the place where he was, he could hear only his own breathing, rhythmic and regular, then he felt his body. He was lying down, feeling the cool linen blankets caressing his skin. He tried to open his eyes but struggled to keep them open, overwhelmed by a deep fatigue. When he finally managed to focus, he saw a whitewashed ceiling. He tried to get up, but a sudden pain pierced his temple. He put his hand to his head, gritting his teeth in pain.

  The blanket slipped off him and he noticed his bare chest; lifting it, he realized he was completely naked. He looked around, trying to observe the room immersed in darkness. It wasn't his bedroom; in one corner there was a small table with a chair, both made of wood, a chest in front of the bed, and a hook near the door.

  But if this wasn't his room, then he was still in the game.

  He got up, wrapping the blanket around his waist. He couldn't remember where he was or what had happened to him. He felt strange, as if he had been emptied out.

  He approached the chest and rummaged inside: he found his clothes, which smelled of fresh laundry, but there was no sign of his bow and sword.

  He got dressed, continuing to look around and racking his brains to remember how he had ended up there. He didn't think it was possible, but he could remember almost nothing of what had happened to him recently. His last memories were perhaps from when he had been on Captain Fill's ship with Leo and Kiah. He remembered training with Gareth and Nadia and crying because he had had to leave Taynor's palace, which had been attacked by the Nothing.

  Then, as if slowly pulling on an invisible string in his mind, something else surfaced. He remembered something Nadia had said, broken and incomplete.

  She spoke of the Void as something that went beyond the game. She mentioned Erebos, a computer virus that had affected him. She said that Erebos wanted to infect the real world and that by connecting to the game, they had triggered that infection outside the game as well.

  Nico shook his head, frowning; remembering was an effort, as if every thought had to force its way through. As Nadia's voice continued to echo in his mind, images from the news flashed before his eyes: hospitals in chaos, traffic jams in big cities, power shortages. As if his brain had finally made the connection, those disasters seen on television seemed to make sense.

  It was Erebos infecting the real world.

  Another sharp pain struck his temple, like a knife. He remembered Kiah's voice telling him not to overexert himself, otherwise the Erebos infection nesting inside him would continue to spread. With that fragmented memory, a snapshot in an otherwise almost empty album, he remembered a wound in his side; he quickly pulled up his jacket and shirt, but in the dim light he couldn't see if there was anything there anymore. He remembered dark branches, needles stuck in his skin, then little else: vague, broken memories, as if some fragments had been cut from his memory, but he didn't know how much time had passed since those last memories he had.

  He approached the window, which was closed with wooden shields that kept out the light, unlocked the bolt, and bright sunlight flooded into the room. He squinted, his eyes sore after being in the dark for so long. When his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was perhaps on the third or fourth floor of a building that extended in several directions, forming a large square. Inside that square was a courtyard: he could see other windows on the sides and, in the center, a wonderful garden full of colorful flowers, trees, and small vegetable gardens with a pond in the middle. Some people were walking on the cobblestone paths.

  He took a deep breath as the wind caressed his dark hair, his eyes closed, then suddenly pulled up his jacket and shirt. He looked down, searching for the branches, the wound, the infection, but there was no trace of them.

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  He opened his eyes wide, feeling and pressing the skin around where the wound should have been, but there was nothing. He sniffed, puzzled, as a slight smile tugged at one side of his face.

  His stomach growled. Since there was nothing to eat in the room, he decided to go out. A fragmented memory from another time, a closed door, the feeling of being a prisoner in a tower, tightened his throat. He rushed to the door and tried to open it: the knob turned.

  He found himself in a whitewashed stone corridor with several tapestries hanging on the walls. There were numerous doors along both sides: some open, others ajar, and others closed. The corridor was quite long, and Nico decided to move in the direction from which indistinct voices were coming. He proceeded slowly and cautiously, peeking into each open or half-open room to check that no one was lurking inside.

  He entered one room, then another: they were arranged more or less like his own, with a bed, a chest, a table with a chair, and a hook on the door. All were completely empty, with no sign that anyone had been there. The closed rooms were probably inhabited. He continued forward as the murmur of voices grew louder; he was troubled to hear laughter.

  The corridor opened onto a large, brightly lit hall. Nico peeked out, staying behind the corner but trying to see who was inside. He heard an unmistakable exclamation:

  “Holy salami...” Leo exploded, staring at him with eyes as big as saucers and his mouth full of food. He jumped to his feet, knocking the chair behind him over with a thud.

  Everyone else turned around.

  Nico exposed himself, uncertain, coming out into the open. The room was lit by large windows that let in daylight. There were several tables: some set, others empty, with the wood of the structure clearly visible. At one of the tables laden with food and drink sat Leo, Kiah, Nadia, Gareth, and a blond boy with a sharp face and an upturned nose, whom Nico had never seen before. They all looked at him with expressions somewhere between happiness and concern. He smiled.

  Kiah said, her voice breaking and her eyes brimming with tears, " Nico... are you okay?!" The tone sounded like both a statement and a question.

  Nadia jumped to her feet and moved toward him; Gareth followed her, his face tense. Nico noticed that, strangely, he was unarmed.

  Nadia approached him, shaking her head, her eyes wide. “You shouldn't be standing,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. Nico felt his face flush as she continued, growing more and more anxious: “You haven't been examined yet.”

  “Examined?” asked Nico, frowning, looking at her as the others gathered around him.

  “What's your last memory?” asked the blond boy with a crooked smile and eyes sparkling with feverish excitement.

  A sharp pain shot through his temple and Nico doubled over in agony. As he bent over, he saw Nadia glare at the boy; he shrugged.

  Nico straightened up, feeling better. “What happened? Where are we?”

  Nadia shifted her gaze from him to a point behind him and took a step back. Gareth and the others joined her, staring at the same spot.

  Nico felt a hand on his shoulder: it was large, warm, and light to the touch. He turned around. Behind him stood a tall, thin man with a sharp face and a hooked nose. His skin was white, albino, hairless: no eyebrows, no beard, completely bald. He wore a long white tunic, left loose without a belt, which floated around him, making him look like a ghost.

  Nico's eyes widened at the sight of that milky-eyed face. The man was blind, yet Nico could distinctly feel his gaze on him.

  In a low, calm voice, the man murmured, “I see you're awake, subject N_01.”

  Nico stared at him, not knowing what to say. The man continued, “I stopped by your room.”

  Nico nodded, uncertain. “Um... I woke up a little while ago and...”

  “You don't remember where you are,” the man interrupted him.

  Nico nodded again, then turned, exchanging troubled glances with each of his companions. His eyes rested on Nadia, then on Kiah. He saw Leo with his eyes wide and his lips trembling, murmuring something in a faint voice, his face contorted with anguish. Nico read the words forming on Leo's mouth, then turned abruptly to stare at the man who was still holding his shoulder.

  “The Archivist.”