“Well,” Jackson said, standing up from his chair. “I gotta go. Project due tomorrow.”

“Yeah, me too,” Gabby agreed. She stood as well. “See you guys here on Friday. Same time?”

Bryson pushed his chair back, looking genuinely sad that the party was over for now. “Same time. And I know this is blasphemy, but next go-round, let’s get something that isn’t bleu chips? Please? For the love of God?”

Gabby laughed an evil laugh as she and Jackson walked away. Michael watched them go, wondering if people would believe their story once a few years went by. It was nuts.

Bryson smacked him on the shoulder, then gave him a rough handshake. “Games are opening back up in two weeks,” he said. His voice was solemn, as if he’d announced a peace treaty. “I say we skip school—sniffle, sniffle—and go twenty-four hours straight. Hit ’em all.” He slapped Michael on the shoulder again, then turned to go. He flashed two thumbs-up. “What say you?” he shouted.

“Sounds good!” Michael yelled back, flashing the same sign.

Man, did it ever sound good.

EPILOGUE

Michael sat in the completely repaired tree house on the outskirts of Lifeblood, exhausted. Darkness had fallen hours before, and it was well past his bedtime. Helga didn’t mind, though. She knew exactly what he’d been working on the last few weeks. And she knew he was close. She’d probably gone to bed by now anyway.

Even though he was skilled enough to access the code of his surrounding world within the Deep, he’d made a promise to himself—and Helga—that he wouldn’t do it while in that world. They both needed to adopt some semblance of a real life, to keep things steady and stable—and Lifeblood Deep had become that place for him. He could dink around on a NetScreen or WallScreen anytime he wanted, but to truly immerse himself, he had to Lift up a level, to the Sleep that the vast majority of citizens experienced when they Sank.

What an odd life he lived.

He settled himself in Bryson’s beanbag chair, its worn and cracked surface feeling like an old friend. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. His eyes hurt from working so much. Working and searching and analyzing. It’d taken every last ounce of his skill and strength, but he’d done an excellent job. If I do say so myself, he thought.

Sitting there in the quiet, which was broken every now and then by a branch scraping against the outside wall, he thought about it all. About the insane turn his life had taken. Finding out he was a string of code. Traveling the world, both real and virtual. Fighting enemies that the biggest and baddest armies in the world couldn’t stop. Watching Sarah die. Horribly. Twice. If that didn’t scar a kid for life, what would?