The Quantum Games

Chapter One

"When the world changes, you can either stay who you are or become who you were meant to be."

System Headquarters

“In three days, the System will spring to life within the Galaxy known as the Milky Way. Reports suggest that the management is nearly if not entirely, assembled, guaranteeing the strategic positioning of the tournament’s most promising contenders,” Shukar conveyed to Viggo Platard, the Head Director of this cycle’s Quantum Games.

“Good,” the director replied. “I am glad we finally stabilized after a few early mishaps. Do we suspect those will affect the contestants this year?”

“No, Sir. Blips were managed effectively. While we did have a few more powerful ones this year compared to previous years, these are always expected. The barriers across the civilized planets are designed to shut down in waves until the go-live date.”

“Shukar, thank you for your steadfast support over the past half-century. Let’s ensure our fans experience a tournament they’ll never forget.”

***

Earth

Emy & James

The athletic director was livid. “She’s done! She’s off the team. That was unacceptable,” he exclaimed.

Coach Williams defended Emy, “She went for the ball, Steve. It was a clean play.”

“That’s not what the referee said or, mind you, the other teams’ parents. This can’t keep happening. I’ve had more calls about your girls’ club this year than all my other programs combined. Make this right, or I will.”

Emy replayed the conversation she had overheard while sitting outside the athletic director’s office the previous day. She knew she had made a clean play. Could they kick her off the team for that?

Anxious, nervous, and distraught, she rapidly tapped her #2 pencil on her desk. It wasn’t until she felt the stares of her classmates that she looked up and saw the entire class, plus a glaring teacher, looking back at her. Her vibrant red hair had often drawn attention, but this felt unusually intense. Then, she became aware of the disruptive noise her pencil was creating.

“Sorry,” Emy sighed as the class turned back around, and James nudged her slightly.

“You good?”

Emy nodded, took another deep breath, and forced herself to focus on the things she could control. Regardless of the outcome, she might as well not flunk this mid-term chemistry exam.

When solid sodium metal reacts with chlorine gas, what compound is produced? Write the balanced chemical equation for this combination reaction.

Smiling to herself, Emy immersed herself in the question. She envisioned Sodium (Na) and Chlorine (Cl₂) melding together. It wasn’t a conscious effort; she enjoyed it, and the answer materialized as the elements fused in her mind. Her teachers had always emphasized the Lewis Dot structure of molecules, but her brain had its way of visualizing it even before those lessons. After years of studying chemistry, her mind adopted this traditional view.

Refocusing on the test at hand, Emy confidently wrote the equation and answer of NaCl, commonly known as Sodium Chloride or table salt.

Emy walked to the front of the class as she finished the test, passing other students still engrossed in their questions.

“See you at practice today,” Professor “Coach” Williams gestured with a smirk as Emy set down her test. Filled with newfound hope, she slung her backpack over her shoulder. The white letters spelling “Mighty Eagles” were embroidered across the back of her bag. She then stepped into the hallway of the education building’s second floor. Leaning over the railing, she watched the students in the foyer below while waiting for James.

Quill Creek College wasn’t her first choice for soccer programs, but it wasn’t her last. Nestled in the charming town of Quincy, California, it quietly existed along State Highway 70, a local community college with minimal fanfare—except for a few discreet signs scattered around the town.

Emy had found solace while at the Junior College, but an insistent feeling tugged at her—a yearning for something more. She was a standout athlete in high school, earning the prestigious 5A State first-team all-league title as a soccer goalkeeper. Soccer became her refuge when she first laced her cleats and slipped on her gloves during a local Reno AYSO program. On the field, the chaos of life settled, and Emy could immerse herself in the game—protecting the goal, leading her defense, and supporting her teammates with unwavering focus.

When the referee's whistle blew, the world shifted once more. Doctors, teachers, and even her parents attributed it to ADHD and various other diagnoses, but Emy felt there was more to it. She could concentrate when needed and even achieve hyper-focus when she chose. However, when her mind wandered, reality would blur, shapes would dance, and people seemed less tangible. Imagine English and Math, where words and numbers perpetually swirl around you. In response, Emy devised a short-term plan for after high school: start at a junior college, improve her grades, and then move on to a more extensive four-year program, all while in search of herself. Soccer was her passion, enriching her life, but it wasn't her entire existence. Now, a nagging question haunted her: What would she become without soccer?

“Dude, what’s up with you today?” James’s sudden appearance made Emy jump, the classroom door closing behind him.

“What? Bitter about being the runner-up once more?” she teased, making light of the situation that James had just been bumped from his starting position on the football team.

“Too soon,” James murmured. “No, seriously, you’ve been in a different world lately. Even for you, this is strange.”

“I’m sorry. My head is just… I don’t know,” Emy hesitated.

“I’m still waiting for the Athletic Director’s verdict on my future as a Mighty Eagle,” she replied, attempting to shift the conversation with a touch of sarcasm. "You’re good at everything—even if you’re now the backup quarterback. I can’t imagine a future where you’re not successful.

“You know that wound is still fresh, right?” James protested with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I was just demoted last practice. I’m still attempting to accept that I am a second-choice junior college athlete.”

Emy responded bluntly, “You could fail and drop out tomorrow, and nothing would change. Your parents can send you to any four-year school nationwide, give you the choice of any degree, and help you move on with your life. I should start calling you Dr. Gray now.”

James’s frustration bubbled over. “Why is that always everyone’s argument? You think I can just get out and move on?”

“Ahh, let’s just go,” he added, exasperated.

Each Tuesday, Emy and James adhered to their unwritten rule: grab lunch after Chemistry. It was the only class they shared this semester. After a 90-minute lecture, they would head to Norma’s Thunder Café, nestled near downtown Quincy. The cozy spot was just a beat away from campus.

Emy and James, friends since elementary school, had jointly chosen to enroll at Quill Creek. Growing up, Emy often visited James’s house after school, drawn by the perks of a big house with a pool and a distinct lack of adults. Friends came and went, but their bond remained strong. Since middle school, they’d had an unspoken pact: stick together whenever possible. This led many to speculate about James, the handsome, toned star athlete with striking silver hair, and Emy, the equally captivating high school soccer standout. Despite the rumors, their friendship remained constant throughout the years.

“What are you going to do?” James asked Emy, grabbing the fresh sandwiches from Norma, the owner, and settling into a seat.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do now. I just have to go and face the music. You saw the play. What did you think?”

“Yeah, me and everyone else in the stands. That play was nuts. It looked like a fifty-fifty ball in the box, but when you two collided, the girl went flying. Shoot, Emy. After that play, all the football players stood and roared at the sudden action. You were a hero.”

James’s recollection triggered her memory to come back.

It was a Sunday afternoon in the fall, the sixth soccer game of the year. Her team was playing against the Lassen “Mighty” Cougars. James and Emy joked that 50% of the Junior Colleges had a “Mighty” mascot. Fast forward to the game's final ten minutes: Emy was pitching a shutout as the goalie, and the score was 1-0. The game had been close, with only a few shots on goal. But a lucky steal and a long strike by a midfielder sent the soccer ball over her defense’s head, landing just short of the box. Courtney Weaver, Lassen’s star striker, lunged for the ball, ready to take her shot. Unbeknownst to her, Emy surged forward, intercepting the ball precisely when Courtney did. It felt as if the world had shifted off balance in that fleeting moment. The next thing Emy became aware of was the unified stare of everyone around her, and their attention riveted on Courtney. She was now lying flat on her back, blood tracing a network of lines down her face along with her hair marred with grass stains.

Emy stepped back, bewildered by the feeling that just came over her and the abrupt hush that enveloped the crowd. She gazed at Courtney sprawled before her on the turf, a mix of concern and confusion in her eyes. The referee’s whistle pierced the air, and he sprinted toward the scene, brandishing a red card. Emy stood frozen, too stunned to react, while the stands erupted in a cacophony of cheers and gasps from the football athletes.

"Fury, Fury, Fury, Fury."

As for the cheer squad, their relentless “Fury” chants didn’t exactly enhance Emy’s image during that memorable soccer match. She glanced at James across the table.

“I appreciate the support, but could you ask the guys to ease up on the ‘Fury’ chants? Courtney’s mom didn’t seem thrilled with the yelling for the rest of the match in those tiny stands,” Emy requested, feeling a bit embarrassed.

James chuckled. “Sure, Fury. But getting Will to listen? Now that’s a challenge. Will must have been having a party after the game, as he even managed to stir up excitement in Tuck about the game. The three-hundred-pounder practically ripped his shirt in two, screaming for you.”

Emy laughed, picturing the scene. “Maybe he was just excited to divert attention from himself. I hear Tuck’s been racking up penalties on the football field. Is he suspended for this weekend’s game?”

"Yeah, he’s a gentle giant but channels his anger on the field. Two personal fouls in the last game got him ejected, earning him a one-game suspension. At least he has a good story for not playing this weekend."

"That reminds me, who’s this new guy that stole my best friend's starting spot?" Emy returned with a question.

James let out a weary breath. “His name’s Trent,” he said, “and he turned up this weekend. He was at Will’s usual weekend bash, but I can’t fault the coach. Our team is on fire, and this impressive start has caught some attention. He was at USC last year and got into some undisclosed trouble. The guy’s got an arm like a cannon and might be the fastest player on the team.”

James didn’t voice it, but the team was more than good. Their 4-0 start was the best in the school’s history. James was no stranger to winning; having led his high school team to a state title, winning was his norm. However, junior college football presented a different dynamic. Here, individual numbers and statistical success often outshone team achievements. The more talent a school had, the better the scouts it attracted. After just two years, this led to a higher turnover to more extensive four-year programs. This turnover rate, in turn, attracted more talent, perpetuating the cycle.

“I haven’t met a player on the team who doesn’t love you, James. Those guys would force the coach to take a different path if you weren’t so damn noble in your actions. You and I know they are better off with you, even if you don’t have a great nickname to back you up.” Emy smiled, attempting to take some pressure off the conversation.

“Let’s get going; I still have some homework to do before practice,” Emy said as she got up, pausing and blinking. Something wasn’t right.

The room vibrated as a short burst of energy washed into the café. Objects shook, and the table Emy held felt like it sank into itself as if its density suddenly changed. Before she knew it, the room stabilized, and the energy seemed to fade.