Disconnected

The metal armor reflected the sunlight, breaking it into its prismatic components and cascading it across the landscape. A huge sword was strapped to the back of this terrifying warrior, as he sat atop a wolf as tall as a horse. Together, the rider and his bestial mount raced across the desert known as the Sands of Embers. Here, deep beneath the dunes and the roads only travelled by the nomads of King Dhalazaar, was the Tomb of Darkness. In it, unknown dangers awaited adventurers. Creatures older than time itself guarded treasures worth more than the Thousand Kingdoms. Whoever was strong, intelligent and enduring enough to survive whatever lurked there would be hailed as the saviour of the world itself. No one was more suited to this task than the warrior Redfist and his loyal wolf Snarltooth, as the two pressed on underneath the burning sun. Tonight, Redfist and the companions that would already await him at the entrance of the dungeon would be showered with glory once they would emerge victorious from the depths. This would be the greatest day in—

"Red, did you bring the flasks of endurance I asked you for?" The voice came entirely unexpected from the headphones, and Marek pulled down the microphone attached to it.
"Yeah sure, you owe me five-hundred gold" Marek rubbed his eyes after replying and stared back at the three screens in front of him. On the middle screen, Marek saw how Redfist rode through the desert on Snarltooth. An assortment of buttons and windows surrounded the gigantic, ironclad warrior. The left screen showed an Internet browser and multiple instant messengers, while in the background a music player randomly picked songs from a collection of more than ten-thousand tracks. Finally, the right screen was a touchscreen, showing the status of every room in the house: temperature, air humidity, lighting and electrical appliances. The room Marek was in was only illuminated by the light of coming from these displays, mixing with the dim ice-blue lighting emitted by the keyboard, over which Marek's fingers raced. He pressed a few buttons to organize the belongings of his digital alter ego, when suddenly a high-pitched sound came from the right screen. Marek looked at it and saw the written notification: excessive untidiness in the living room. Marek barely looked at the screen but just touched it a few times. He was so used to doing this it had become second nature to him. He just had to tell Sam about the mess, and all would be cleaned in a few minutes. Sam had more time for this kind of nonsense anyway. Right now, Marek and Redfist had to raid a lost tomb in a far more important world than this one.

Hours passed as the brave group of adventurers made their way through the Tomb of Darkness. They had survived the Hall of Mirrors, vanquished the Keeper of Insanity and were now approaching the fabled Bridge of Everfrost, the only cool place underneath the Sands of Embers. The party had already used all of their potions, and with this many severely wounded companions they were close to using their last scroll of teleportation to get reserves from their banks and the auction house.
"We should call it a day and continue tomorrow. This ain't gonna work out" one of the members said on the voice-over-IP server. Many who listened agreed quickly, making up reasons to stop the expedition for now. Marek would have none of it.
"Like you guys have anything to do in the morning. Quit your whining and get moving. That bridge ain't gonna cross itself" he spat out and commanded Redfist to lead the way. He would lead this band to the end of this dungeon, even if he had to drag them there. As they approached their next challenge, the right screen called for attention again. On the map of the house, the bathroom was highlighted, and bright red letters spelled the words "unclean situation". Someone must have been careless in the bathroom, Marek thought. While keeping his eyes on the center screen, his right hand touched the right screen a few times before his full, undivided attention belonged once more to Redfist. Again, Marek trusted Sam enough to take care of this.

In this windowless room, the passage of time could only be tracked by the clocks on the screens. Like always, Marek ignored them as he opened up another can of energy drink and saw more and more players leave his group. Some claimed they had business to take care of in the morning. Marek knew they lied; in these times, no one had to take care of something. At least, he did not have to take care of anything anymore since Sam had come into his life. As more and more people left the adventuring party, Marek's frustration kept growing. Just when he took a sip of the energy drink, he heard the sliding door behind him opening. A bright beam of light fell through the crack, illuminating the utter chaos in the room. Every corner of it was filled with already rotting pizza boxes and empty cans that gave flies shelter. In the opening, a little girl stood, dressed in a white sleeping gown and holding a teddy bear in her right hand. Sleep was in her eyes, and her voice was soft and gentle as she called out for Marek.
"Daddy, there's a monster underneath my bed. Can I come and sit with you for a while?" Marek almost could not hear his own daughter of the noise that came from his headphone. The sudden flash of light that now covered his desk was what drew his attention. However, he did not reply to the question posed by the little girl, who by now was sucking her left thumb. He did not even move his head to look over his shoulder. Instead, he tapped the right screen two times, and moments later a figure appeared behind the girl. Metallic skin covered its entire, androgynous body, and thousands of little facial plates made it possible for the machine to simulate human mimic and articulation. It laid a cold, iron hand on the girl's shoulder and whispered in a female, yet unearthly voice.
"There there now, young lady Tanya, your father is very busy. I will make sure that no dangerous entities are underneath your bed." The robot urged the girl to follow, but young Tanya just stood there for a moment, looking at the back of her dad. A single tear finally rolled over her left cheek, as she turned around and grabbed the robot's hand. She looked up the machine's shoulder, and saw the so familiar initials printed there: Sam, synthetic assistance module. She was more used to articulating those words than something as simple as "dad".

As the sliding door closed again behind him, Marek looked at his screen in shock. The central screen had gone black, with just a single pop-up in the center of it: disconnected from server. It seemed that the game services had crashed, removing Redfist and his remaining followers forcefully from the Tomb of Darkness. Blankly, Marek just stared at the screen. Disconnected.

Yes, he was truly…disconnected.