Chapter Text
We live in a world created by our dreams.
Gaston Bachelard
****
Escapism, as Lorelai's mother loved to repeat, was merely a useful psychological defense mechanism — a temporary refuge from harsh reality.
"Escaping reality can be therapeutic, sweetheart," Caroline would say in her professional family therapist tone, adjusting her glasses. "The key is knowing your limits."
But what counted as limits when the other side offered the brightest colors and sweet promises of happiness in the arms of the most beautiful man in the entire world — even if he was made of nothing but empty lines of code?
Lori sighed, squirming on the uncomfortable chair in the tiny staff room of the cheap restaurant where she worked after school. Her caramel eyes practically glued to her phone screen as the loading screen finally disappeared and the familiar interior of Destiny Café appeared.
Caleb.
Just thinking his name was enough to make her flush with inexplicable embarrassment, as if she'd caught the eye of a real guy instead of a character.
But how could it be otherwise? Love and Deepspace had become more than just some game to her — it was an entire universe. Hours turned into days, days into weeks spent memorizing every feature of his face, every inflection of his voice, every casual gesture.
Caleb's smile was sunshine breaking through the clouds of her loneliness, his protective instincts a fortress where she could hide from the world — a world where her parents' divorce meant her father's disappearance and her poor mother's workaholism.
At first, she'd invested more in Zayne, of course. The cold, distant cardiac surgeon seemed like an unreachable challenge, a puzzle she desperately wanted to solve and reach whatever lay hidden beneath that impenetrable shell.
Lorelai spent days raising his affection, dropping countless dollars on gacha pulls for the most romantic cards. But soon his icy politeness and rehearsed tone began to weigh on her soul, reminding her of her mother's detachment.
Zayne was beautiful and perfect, but his perfection lacked human warmth.
And then he appeared in the storyline.
Caleb.
With his radiant smile like a thousand sunbeams and his willingness to break himself into pieces for the protagonist. With his habit of calling MC "meimei" in the Chinese voiceover — a voice that made her heart skip a traitorous beat. With his yandere traits that should have been frightening but instead seemed like the embodiment of true devotion.
Yes, it was unhealthy from a relationship standpoint, but had her own childhood been an example of a healthy family? The idea that someone would be so devoted to her that he could never leave felt more like a wonderful dream than a glaring red flag.
"You're glued to that game again?" Martin asked — the only cook at the modest restaurant. "Lori, seriously, they're just pictures on a screen. I'll never understand how people can dump so much money into this stuff..."
Avery immediately locked her phone and shoved it into her apron pocket.
Explaining to Martin that these so-called "pictures" meant more to her than any real relationship would be a lost cause. How could she possibly tell him that a virtual boyfriend understood her better than her own mother? That his digital embraces brought more comfort than all of Caroline's therapy sessions?
He'd think she was a crazy hysteric. And maybe he'd be right.
"It's... complicated," she said, looking away bashfully. "You wouldn't understand."
And truly, how could he? Martin grew up in an intact family where his father never dreamed of destroying it with an affair with a young mistress and a "surprise attachment," and his mother took interest in his life not as a professional psychologist but simply because she loved him.
He had no need to seek comfort in the arms of a nonexistent character.
****
When she got home after her shift, Lori found the usual sticky note on the fridge from her mother:
"Running late with a client session. Heat up dinner. Love, Mom."
The disappointment that spread through her mouth with a bitter taste was almost routine, though still painfully unpleasant. She quickly reheated the lasagna from the fridge and ate alone at the round table before loading the dishes into the dishwasher and heading to her room.
The next two hours flew by unnoticed.
Yawning into her palm, Lori worked through the remaining story chapters as usual, completed daily quests clearing dungeons, and admired animations from recently acquired cards. She was especially moved by the newly released myth that finally revealed his dark past as test subject "Object 002." The story of how he tried to protect MC made Lorelai cry crocodile tears.
It was in moments like these — revelations about their shared past with the protagonist — that she found herself tormented by a painful question: what if Caleb saw her, the real Lorelai Avery, instead of the perfectly crafted MC?
Would he look at her with the same tender gaze he gave the protagonist? Would he laugh with the same warmth and softness if she touched his face? Could he feel even the beginnings of affection... or would he not even notice her?
After all, she wasn't the center of the universe like MC.
Lori's heart was perfectly ordinary — made of flesh, blood, and boring vessels, not some mystical Aether Core. She had no supernatural abilities, no mysterious past, no fateful mission to save the world. She was the most ordinary girl with the most ordinary problems. Divorced parents with a scandal, lonely childhood, nonexistent love life — the story of thousands of other teenagers.
And she didn't work as a fearless Deepspace Hunter risking her life to save innocent citizens and maybe the whole world — she was just an ordinary waitress at a family restaurant after school.
"Idiot," Avery snorted at this self-flagellation without malice. "Jealous of your own character... Now that's unhealthy escapism."
But even understanding the absurdity of it all, she couldn't stop.
Right now, Caleb on the other side of the screen was smiling at her, and in these precious minutes, the whole world beyond the game simply ceased to exist, narrowing down to this slyly grinning beauty.
There was no lonely house, no perpetually busy mother, no indifferent father with his new family. There was only this smile, those violet eyes, and a voice repeating system phrases she desperately lacked in reality.
"You know, even though we never got to see that other world," he suddenly said, turning toward the camera as if looking directly at her. "One thing's for certain — no matter what world we're in, we'll always be together."
The words shot straight to her heart.
"Liar," she whispered with painful tenderness, carefully stroking the image of his face with her thumb and watching him squint with laughter. "Beautiful, charming liar. You don't even know I exist..."
She knew it was just a programmed phrase, one of countless dialogues the developers had recorded into his code. But on oppressive evenings like this, wrapped in the soft glow of her phone screen, it was surprisingly easy to believe miracles were real.
Almost.
Locking her phone and plugging it into the charger on her nightstand, Lori turned on her side to face the window. The night sky over their small Oregon town was surprisingly clear — one of the few advantages of living far from big cities.
Stars twinkled like a thousand glittering jewels on black velvet, letting her become for a moment that dreamy naive girl she'd been in childhood, before her parents' divorce and the understanding that the world wasn't always fair and kind.
And then Lori saw it.
A shooting star, streaking a bright white line across the impenetrable dark velvet. And though her mind insistently whispered that it was just a meteorite burning up in the atmosphere, that a star's "fall" was merely an optical illusion, that what she was seeing now might have happened thousands of years ago, her heart still shot through with tiny hope.
Pressing her clammy palms together, Lori brought them to her lips and closed her eyes.
Please, she mentally addressed the star. I know this sounds insane, but... give me a chance. Any chance to reach my star. Let me just once be near someone who... who makes me feel alive.
Sentimental and stupid.
Lorelai understood the futility of such an attempt herself.
An eighteen-year-old girl making wishes on shooting stars as if she'd regressed to age seven. But the game itself had taught her to dream, had instilled belief in miracles, had made her believe in love that could overcome absolutely any obstacle.
And right now...
Lori wished for one thing.
****
Morning came not with the usual alarm howl but with a stream of blinding sunlight that unpleasantly struck her directly in the face. Lorelai groaned something unintelligible, covering her eyes with her palm and sleepily rolling onto her side, belatedly realizing how strange that maneuver was.
Something was definitely wrong.
Her window faced north and the sun never shone through it so brightly in the mornings.
With a sleepy grunt, she slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes with her fist before looking out the window.
Instead of the familiar landscape — low houses with small lawns and a sleepy street — beyond the window stretched a genuine futuristic metropolis.
High-rises soared skyward in glass needles, their facades reflecting sunlight directly into her window. Silent cars with strange streamlined shapes glided along wide highways.
But most stunning wasn't even that — it was the holograms. Huge, bright projections advertising various goods right in the air. Information boards showing time, weather, and news in a language she recognized with a sinking heart as... Chinese? And to her relief, English too.
Unable to resist, Lori crawled on her knees closer to the window, nearly pressing her nose against the cool glass. Her heart pounded as if she'd run a marathon, refusing to believe what she saw along with its owner.
Because it was simply... impossible.
You couldn't build such a wonder overnight!
Even the most globally advanced cities like Tokyo, Seoul, and New York probably had nothing like this.
Slapping both palms against her cheeks hoping to wake up, Lori quickly looked around the room, frantically searching for confirmation that at least here everything remained the same. Fortunately, overly obvious changes hadn't touched her bedroom: the same bed with pink bedding, the same dresser with her rare collection of anime guy figurines, the same posters on the walls...
Though something had touched even her dear fortress.
The old, bulky desktop computer with separate monitor, keyboard, and system unit had vanished. In its place sat an elegant, ultra-thin screen more reminiscent of an oversized tablet and probably worth serious money.
"Did Mom buy a new computer?" she suggested aloud uncertainly, approaching closer and cautiously touching the smooth screen surface with her finger. "When? And with what money?"
Questions accumulated inside her like a snowball threatening to become an avalanche.
"Mom?" she called out to the only close person in this suddenly frightening and unfamiliar world in a trembling voice, unable to remain alone with her fears any longer. "Mom, are you home?"
"In the kitchen, sweetheart!" Caroline's familiar voice responded, making her relax involuntarily.
At least her mother was here.
So not everything was terrible.
So there was someone who could explain what was happening.
Hastily shoving her feet into cozy slippers with snorting panda faces, Lori hurried toward the door.
Surprisingly, Caroline was indeed in the kitchen. Usually by this time she was already rushing to work or at best hastily downing coffee on the go while pulling on heels.
"Mom, what's going on?!" she burst out in one breath, clutching the doorframe.
The woman looked up from the pan where eggs sizzled appetizingly and gave her daughter a restrained, puzzled look. Her face expressed the patient curiosity she usually demonstrated toward particularly emotionally unstable clients.
"Good morning to you too, Lori," she said dryly, covering the pan with a lid. "What exactly is bothering you?"
"What's bothering me?!" Lori nearly choked with indignation. "Mom, don't tell me you haven't seen what's happening outside! There are skyscrapers everywhere! And — and cars! Not to mention holograms! When did all this appear? How is this even possible?"
Caroline's dark eyebrows rose slightly, but she maintained her eternal composure.
"First, please sit down, dear," she indicated a chair at the kitchen table. "And tell me in detail what you're seeing and feeling. Any headache? Nausea? Dizziness?"
"I feel perfectly fine!" But she plopped down on the chair anyway. "And Mom, I'm serious. Go outside and see for yourself. Or at least come to the window. Our town turned into... into... I don't even know what — some mix of technologically advanced super-progressive utopia!"
At that moment, an even more unreal character rolled onto the scene: a small, gentle pink domestic robot on wheels, waist-high, with a rounded harmless head and a square screen instead of a face.
"Your morning coffee, Lori!" it chirped cheerfully. "Added cream and two spoons of sugar, just how you like it!"
"Thanks," Lori answered automatically.
A cute blush immediately appeared on the robot's screen, and its eyes turned into pleased crescents.
"You're welcome! Have a good day!" it squeaked contentedly and rolled back to the kitchen counter.
Lori took a sip of perfectly brewed coffee and opened her mouth again, trying to convey to her mother at least part of her concerns and worries, when after several fatal seconds it suddenly hit her that she'd just said "thanks" to a robot.
A real, living (as much as that was possible), talking robot.
Right in their house.
During the most ordinary breakfast.
"What... who... when..." The poor girl's caramel eyes nearly popped from their sockets as she whirled toward the object of all her thoughts, which immediately buzzed with concern. "Oh my God! What is that?!"
"Lori, calm down," Caroline hurried to take away the trembling mug. "That's Chappie, our home assistant. Did you forget?"
"'Forgot'?!" Lori's voice shot up an octave. "Mom, I'd definitely remember if we had a real ROBOT at home!"
She leaned over the confused Chappie, who fearfully backed away on his wheels, making anxious mechanical sounds. His screen face now expressed concern — bigger eyes and a thin worried line for a mouth.
To the touch, his body felt warm and gave off a slight vibration.
Really real.
Actual.
"Lori?" Chappie said questioningly.
"Um," she ran her hand over the body again, feeling for seams, panels, buttons. "Where did you come from?"
"I am manufactured by EverTech, model HomeEvo-3000," the not-quite-Pinky briskly reported. "My serial number is HE-2048-5688. My primary function is to help my owners and be a good companion. I was activated in this house two years, three months, and fourteen days ago."
Caroline observed her daughter's interaction with their home robot with growing concern.
"Lori, sweetheart," she sat across from her daughter, businesslike folding her hands on the table. "Tell me please — what do you remember from last night? Maybe you were doing something before bed?"
"The last thing I remember..." the younger Avery finally tore herself away from studying the poor assistant, frowning as she tried to sort everything chronologically. "I came home from work. Had dinner. Played LADS. Saw a shooting star and..." She hesitated, not daring to mention the wish. "...fell asleep. In my bed, in my room, in our house in Oregon!"
"Played what?" Caroline frowned in confusion.
Lori stared at her mother open-mouthed.
How could she not remember? Considering how many times Lori had gone on about Caleb, shared particularly soul-touching art, and excitedly discussed her thoughts on this or that plot twist, Caroline should know the game at a pro level if not expert!
Even if she wasn't interested in her daughter's strange hobbies, she should definitely remember the name.
"Love and Deepspace!" she repeated desperately. "Mom, it's my favorite game! I told you about it hundreds of times! About Caleb, Zayne, about..."
But Caroline just shook her head, continuing to frown with concern.
"I've never heard you mention it. And who are these... Caleb and Zayne?"
At that moment, when Lori was one step from an existential crisis, a muffled television voice suddenly reached her ears from the living room.
"...weather forecast for this week in Linkon City: expect variable cloudiness with clearing, air temperature will rise to twenty-three degrees Celsius..."
She froze in place, trying to put two and two together.
Linkon City.
The announcer had just said "Linkon City."
Not Portland, not Salem, not some other Oregon town, but Linkon. That same fictional city from the game where Deepspace Hunters lived, where space-time anomalies occurred, where...
"Linkon City," she repeated aloud.
"What?" Caroline asked.
"On TV... they said Linkon City. That's the name of o-our city?"
"Of course, dear. We moved here because of your father's work," the woman leaned closer across the table again and touched her forehead. "You don't have a fever, but perhaps we should see a doctor. Such memory lapses..."
"No," Lori said quickly. "No, I'm fine. Just... tired, probably. Yes, definitely tired!"
She couldn't tell her mother the truth.
Caroline would think she'd lost her mind and justifiably send her to a psychiatrist. And Lori urgently needed to understand what was happening. She needed to figure out if she'd really ended up in the world of Love and Deepspace — and if so, how was that even possible?
Starting from the beginning: last night, as she'd told her mother, she'd made a wish on a falling asteroid. Asked for a chance to reach her personal star — Caleb. And now Lori had woken up in a world where he existed.
Isekai.
That's what they called the anime and manga genre where heroes could move to alternative worlds and parallel realities in common literature. Usually this happened after death or an accident, but sometimes — just by fate's will or some magic.
Was it possible? Was it possible that some higher powers had decided to grant the plea of a lonely girl who so desperately wanted to find her love, and her wish had been heard?
Lorelai slowly finished her coffee, feeling a hundred chills run down her spine at just the thought of... of this.
If this was true — if she'd really ended up in the world of Love and Deepspace — then somewhere in this city lived Caleb.
Real, living Caleb with his incredible indigo eyes and equally charming smile.
It was madness.
Absolute madness, but...
What if her most impossible dream was about to become reality?