Nico, his stomach knotted with rage, descended the stairs with the forced calm imposed by his stiff leg, one step at a time. He heard Bruno whistling, calling him like a dog. He clenched his teeth, put on a tough face, and opened the door of the building where he lived on the first floor, the same building where his cousin Bruno also lived.

  He stepped out into the early afternoon light, his muscles and brain tense at the thought of the hidden viewer: the box was tucked away at the back of the closet, inside a sweatshirt. The door slammed behind him with a dull thud, creaking on its hinges like the bars of a cell, making him feel strangely imprisoned.

  He saw his cousin say goodbye to his father, Diego, who was devotedly polishing his beloved sedan. Then his uncle took his wallet and handed Bruno a banknote. Bruno, better known in the family as “Bu Bu,” was an only child, loved and wanted. He had everything.

  Nico gritted his teeth and nervously rolled the bundle of papers in his hands, feeling his nervousness grow. He saw Bruno approaching with his henchmen, limply holding a radio-controlled helicopter that was banging against his plump thigh. Nico noticed his cousin's piggy eyes, narrowed into two slits as they scrutinized him from afar.

  Bruno turned to his two henchmen: Peppe, tall and flabby, swayed like a drunkard, with a shifty look in his eyes; Giorgio, short and stocky, almost ape-like, hopped slightly to keep up. Bruno said something that Nico couldn't hear, and after another glance, the three burst out laughing.

  “So? All done?” Bruno asked, stopping in front of him, his voice boastful and guttural.

  Nico nodded and handed him the bundle of papers. “Yes, it's all here.”

  Bruno snatched the bundle from Nico's hands without saying thank you. Nico pointed to the small helicopter and said, “You had fun tormenting the little ones in the park, huh?”

  Bruno looked him up and down, then gave a half smile. “Mind your own business, bastard.”

  Nico gripped his cane so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Bruno loved those insults, loved reminding Nico that he had no mother and that his father had abandoned him.

  “At least your mother had an excuse,” Bruno continued in a low, disgusted voice. “She crashed. But your father? Never seen him, huh?”

  Peppe and Giorgio chuckled like excited monkeys. Bruno continued dramatically, spreading his arms wide. “You know what?” he said to Peppe and Giorgio. “I heard my mother talking to a friend. She said that this idiot here, his mother left him nothing but her name.”

  Nico felt something growing inside him: anger and emptiness. His throat tightened, his temples throbbed. He clenched his teeth and hissed, “You'd better read that stuff,” his voice scratching his throat, “just to avoid looking like a fool tomorrow.”

  Bruno stared at him, his face red with anger, it didn't take much to set him off.

  “Mind your own business, microbe,” he growled.

  Peppe and Giorgio burst out laughing, always ready to back up their leader. Bruno puffed out his chest: “I'm going to a private school anyway. The best high school in town.”

  Nico said sarcastically, “It may be the best high school in town, but if you don't know your ABCs... they're not going to magically promote you.”

  Bruno's eyes narrowed to slits. Nico had touched a raw nerve.

  “What did you say, microbe?” he growled, raising his fist.

  Nico prepared to dodge, but his leg gave way at the wrong moment and he hit the floor with a thud. Cruel laughter exploded above him.

  “Well done, Captain Lame Leg!” Bruno grunted, laughing like a wild boar. “You're a lot of fun, you do everything yourself!”

  Nico gritted his teeth, his hands on the ground and his heart in his throat, not from pain, but from anger.

  Bruno, with a mocking half-smile, bent down just enough to be heard: “Have fun getting up off the ground.” Then he turned his back and walked away.

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  Left alone, Nico listened to the sound of laughter slowly fading down the street. He clung to a pole near the building and felt a sharp pain in his left arm. He clenched his trembling fingers and forced himself to get up, but his left leg slipped out from under him. A shrill cry escaped his throat, more anger than pain, while his face burned with shame.

  When he got home, he met his own angry gray eyes in the full-length mirror his grandmother had in the hallway. The mirror always reflected the same boy: dirty pants, cane at his side, eyes hungry for justice. He shook his head and sniffed, hardening his face. From the kitchen came the voice of his Aunt Flora, talking to his grandmother. He wouldn't show himself like this, not in front of that woman.

  His arm hurt terribly, but he gritted his teeth and advanced down the hallway, each step as heavy as a boulder.

  “Lucky Bruno got into that nice private school...” squeaked his aunt, “I'm sure he'll do great things there.” Nico walked past the kitchen, limiting himself to a quick greeting, and rushed to the bathroom. But the voice kept hitting him:

  "My goodness, that boy is really a lost cause... Have you seen that messy dark hair? And with that cane... I'm glad he's going to another school; I think it really affects Bruno's social life... Poor Bubu of mine."

  He slammed the bathroom door behind him and turned the key. He heard a chair scraping across the floor and footsteps coming down the hallway, then Aunt Flora, lighting a cigarette, yelled: “You're rude, you should be ashamed instead of grateful for what you have in this house.” Then, turning to her grandmother, she said, “I don't know how you put up with him. If I were you, I would have sent him to an orphanage already.”

  Nico shook his head again and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection was a mixture of tiredness and restrained anger: red eyes, unruly hair cut strangely by his grandmother. He lifted his half-sleeve and noticed a cut under his shoulder, sniffed, and took the disinfectant and sprayed it on the cut.

  He jumped in the shower with the cut still stinging from the disinfectant. The cold water ran over his face and body, but it couldn't wash away his anger or sense of helplessness. Yet, thinking about the visor and what awaited him, a faint smile touched his lips: maybe there he could regain control.

  When he came out of the bathroom, the warm late afternoon sun had given way to evening. He poked his head into the kitchen and murmured to his grandmother that he wasn't hungry.

  He closed his bedroom door, picked up the headset, sat down, and put it on.

  Darkness.

  Then a jolt at the base of his neck, violent but not painful.

  A woman's voice murmured:

  ? Entering system

  Nico smiled, his stomach tangled with emotions.

  ? Player logged in

  A flash.

  Then, like grains of sand blown by the wind, another world formed. A lush green clearing opened up around him, alive and pulsating. The trees bent in the wind, their leaves illuminated by the sunlight, shining with a vivid and intense green. Nico stood motionless, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, unable to look away.

  A flutter of wings made him jump: it wasn't a bird, but a creature made of petals and light, which vanished before he could focus on it. Further ahead, a giant tree slowly moved its gnarled arms, creaking as if stretching after a century-long sleep. Nico had the feeling that they were watching him and felt a mixture of amazement and unease.

  He took a deep breath as the wind caressed his face, bringing the warmth of the sun: the air was thick with the smell of grass and moisture.

  He shook his head and brought his hands to his face: it was all so real, so alive.

  That ethereal voice spoke again in his mind:

  ? Welcome, traveler. Your body has been scanned

  A screen appeared to the right of his field of vision and the voice read:

  ? Height: 5'8"

  ? Weight: 59 kg

  ? Body mass: normal

  ? Hair: black

  ? Eyes: gray

  ? Distinguishing features: Motor disability detected

  ? Do you want to keep or change any of these characteristics?

  Nico remained silent. He had always dreamed of this: not just walking effortlessly, but running, jumping, flying.

  He made his choice, and his disability vanished.

  A new screen appeared:

  ? Choose your class

  The options multiplied before his eyes: warrior, wizard, thief, cleric... Then he saw it: Ranger. Bow, nature, freedom, and with a smile, he selected it. Not with a mouse or joystick, but simply by thinking it, and everything came to fruition.

  One last choice awaited him: his mount.

  And there, as if the game had grasped his irony, a giant ostrich appeared with bright eyes and fluttering feathers.

  ? Mount selected: Ostrich

  So, with his heart beating faster than he could remember, Nico, the lame, orphaned, housebound boy, took his first step, perfectly straight, into a new world.

  [LOG_A.02-END]: Synchronization complete.

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