REAL WORLD – Tokyo, Japan
Launch Day: December 1st, 2025 – 6:15 PM JST
The smell of miso soup and grilled fish drifted through the small apartment as Max sat at the kitchen table, absently scrolling through his phone. His mother, Yuki, moved around the compact kitchen, preparing for the dinner.
At 52, she still had the energy of someone a decade younger—her black hair only lightly touched with gray at the temples, tied back in a ponytail.
"You're not even looking at your food," she said without turning around, that uncanny mom-sense detecting his distraction.
Max glanced down at his untouched dinner. "Sorry, Mom. Just... checking something."
"Checking something," Yuki repeated, bringing her own plate to the table and sitting across from him. Her dark eyes studied him with that mix of amusement and concern only mothers could master. "Let me guess. That game."
"Aetheria Online," Max corrected automatically, then winced. He sounded like a kid defending his hobby.
Yuki took a bite of fish, chewing slowly. "The one they're calling a national holiday for. I saw the news. Two billion people, they said?"
"Two point three billion estimated," Max said, his enthusiasm breaking through. "Mom, this isn't just another game. The neural immersion tech alone—"
"Will it pay your rent?" she interrupted gently.
The question hung in the air. Max set his phone down. "I've got three months saved up. And I'm still doing freelance work."
"Freelance web design," Yuki said. "Which you do at three in the morning between gaming sessions."
"It pays well—"
"Max." She reached across the table, placing her hand over his. Her fingers were warm, slightly rough from years of work as a hospital nurse. "I'm not trying to be the villain here. I just worry."
Max squeezed her hand. "I know."
"You're twenty-six. When your father was your age—" She stopped herself, a familiar pain flickering across her features. Max's father had died eight years ago. Cancer. The medical bills had nearly destroyed them.
"When Dad was my age, he was working himself to death at a job he hated," Max said quietly. "I remember, Mom. I remember how tired he always was. How he would come home and just... sit there. Empty."
Yuki's jaw tightened. "He provided for us."
"I know. And I'm not saying he was wrong. But..." Max struggled for the words. "This thing I'm good at—gaming, strategy, understanding systems—it's not just wasting time anymore. People make careers out of this now. Streamers, pro players, content creators. Real money."
"And you think you can do that?" There was no mockery in her voice, just genuine curiosity.
"I don't know," Max admitted. "But I want to try. I've been theorycrafting this game for months. I've got a Discord community of ten thousand people waiting to see what I do. If I can get ahead of the curve, document strategies, build a following..." He trailed off, seeing the skepticism in her eyes.
Yuki was quiet for a long moment, then sighed. "You're so much like him, you know. Your father. That stubborn determination." She smiled sadly. "He wanted to be a musician. Did I ever tell you that?"
Max blinked. "What?"
"Before we married. He played guitar, wrote songs. He was actually quite good." She stared at her plate. "But his parents convinced him to be 'practical.' Get a stable job. Provide security."
She looked up at Max. "He did provide security. But I watched the music die in him, little by little. And I've always wondered... if I had encouraged him to try, even if it meant struggling more, would he have been happier?"
Max felt his throat tighten.
"So here's what I'll say," Yuki continued, her voice firm. "You have three months saved. That's your runway. Try this. Really try. Put everything into it. But if it doesn't work—if you're not making enough to sustain yourself—you promise me you'll look for stable work. Deal?"
"Deal," Max said immediately.
"And eat your dinner before it gets cold," she added, the moment of vulnerability passing as quickly as it came. "What time does this game start?"
"Midnight. Five and a half hours."
Yuki shook her head. "Of course it's midnight. And you'll be up all night."
"Probably."
"I'm working the morning shift tomorrow, so I won't be here to judge your terrible sleep schedule," she said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "But Max? Promise me one more thing."
"What?"
"Don't forget to live in the real world too. This game, this virtual thing—it's exciting, I can see that. But don't get so lost in it that you forget what actually matters."
Max nodded seriously. "I promise."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Then Yuki asked, "So what kind of character are you going to play? One of those warrior types that just hits things?"
Max laughed. "No. I'm going for something called a Soulbinder. It's a unique class that—" He stopped, seeing her tired expression. "It's complicated."
"I'm sure it is," she said warmly. "Just... be careful, okay? I read that these VR things can be very intense. If you feel sick or dizzy—"
"I'll log out immediately," Max finished. "The NeuroSync has safety protocols. I'll be fine."
Yuki stood, collecting their plates. "I know you will. You're smart. Stubborn, but smart." She paused, then leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Good luck tonight. I hope your... soul-binding goes well."
"Thanks, Mom."
As she headed to her room to prepare for her early shift, she called back, "And Max? If you do become some famous gaming person, remember who fed you all those years."
"I'll buy you a house!" he called after her.
"I'll settle for you doing your own laundry!"
Max grinned, returning to his phone. A message from his Discord server:
Velara:5 hours 23 minutes. WHO'S READY TO MAKE HISTORY?>
He typed back: Born ready. See you all in Aetheria.