Craven glared over at his younger sister, eyes cold enough to kill. Effectively silenced, she glanced down at her lips as though they’d betrayed her, one hand reaching up to cup her mouth.

Discomfort sat like a boulder in my gut. Partially because she’d compared me to my parents, whom I wasn’t even sure were good people anymore. The jury was still out on where they stood in my brain. Before, I’d thought it impossible that the woman who bought me everything I ever desired and the father who kept my luxurious lifestyle afloat could be bad people, though with each passing moment, it became more and more plausible. But then, they’d done so much to protect me and give me a life of comfort…but was it all worth it if so many other people were ruined in the process? Ugh, there was too much to think about! My brain wasn’t big enough to comprehend it all. 

The other half of my discomfort came from the fact that she wasn’t entirely wrong. When you come from two people who are, according to these people, big-time liars, you must be one yourself. It’s similar to how, when both of your parents have blue eyes, you’re guaranteed to have them too. Did that mean my lying abilities were double those of my parents’? Perhaps my name really was Rash, and I’d been lying to myself for years that it was something a bit more dignified. If I were innately that good of a liar, then I could certainly fool myself, too, no? Did that mean that I’d lied to myself about other things? My likes? My dislikes? My personality? What was I? Who was I?

I’d need to check my birth certificate. 

“Have I taught you nothing?” Even by the time I managed to dispel my doubts, Craven was still scolding his sister. “You’re supposed to be a respectable young woman, and insulting someone, even as dumb as him, like that is not the attribute of a respectable girl! Apologize immediately.”

“But I didn-”

“Apologize.”

Fickle grumbled something unintelligible beneath her breath before turning to me with a half-hearted, weak apology, “Sorry for insulting you. I didn’t mean it. My tongue was working on its own.” 

“It’s okay.” I wasn’t entirely sure if it was. Way to cause an existential crisis in a man. “Apology accepted.”

“Good, we’ve made up.” Craven reached for an invisible object between his lips before, with a slightly startled look, tucking his hand in his pocket. No one else seemed to notice. “Have we all said our piece so I can finally get to my rules?”

“Should you really be talking about your whole system in a public building? Won’t someone hear you and, like, turn you in or something?” 

He looked at me like I was dumb.

“No one at this school cares enough to snitch for side-talk. Besides, even if we were turned in, it’s as simple as convincing the principal you were talking about a video game. The higher-ups don’t care what a few poor high schoolers say. They have little faith in the idea of our revolts.”

“Oh, alright. Well, go on then.”

“Rule One: You will not speak of our cause to anyone outside of the people who are already in it. You don’t know who you can and can’t trust, especially not with your social standing. Those around you might be sent to pry from your parents. Unless you know for certain that someone isn’t a spy, or we have approved them, you may not mention anything regarding our cause, understood?”

Seemed simple enough.

“Yeah, I gotcha.”

“Rule Two: You’ll do exactly what Alden tells you, exactly how he tells you. He makes the plans and runs this operation. The rest of us are just his worker bees.”

I had to conceal the scowl forming on my face. A worker bee? Was I going against everything I’d ever known just to be this guy’s dog? Would my days consist of fetching him food, running his errands, and doing his dirty work? It seemed unlikely, but Alden remained a mystery to me. Though he may come off as a nice guy, he could be a brutal authoritarian dictator when you’re under his control. 

“Don’t word it like that,” Alden spoke up from his seat, averting his gaze awkwardly. “You’re making me sound like some tyrant. I’m not making you guys do anything, you know.”

“We do what you want because we’re dedicated to the cause. If he is too, then he’ll agree.” Craven fixed me with a hard glare, as if challenging me to oppose the idea. 

Groaning internally, I half-heartedly agreed. The idea of being anyone’s dog was less than appealing, but I suppose if it came to that or letting my parents ruin dozens of lives, I’d choose the latter, even if a bit angrily. 

“Rule Three: You’ll support your fellow rebels. As you’ll see here soon, numerous people are supporting our cause, each with their own quirks and talents. They’ve built a system at our base that works not only to support us but also to support them. The rule is that you back your buddy before you back big business. If you need something, see if a lad around you is selling it first. If not, pay to get it delivered and suffer the import fees.”

“Import fees?”

“Ugh, import fees!” Link groaned miserably. “They’re so high anymore! Why am I paying the price of two chip boxes when I’m only getting one? That’s why we gotta get yar parents outta power.”

“So you can pay less for your chips?” I asked quizzically. Were chips making that much damage on the economy? 

“No, for an infinite amount of other reasons, though the high import fees are certainly included,” Craven butted back in. “With the emphasis on virtual living, prices have skyrocketed for anything physical to try to keep people online. It’s much better to live through your headset if you’re only worried about finances. Most people either end up caving and going online, or dying without a penny in their pocket.”

“So it’s either submit or…die?” 

“Either way, you lose your life. Just depends on which way you wanna lose it, I suppose.”