I stood up and back, letting my wife Harley take center stage as we faced down the enemy of a lifetime: a flaming Monster Yule Log. Harley had her battle, and I had mine: the Fraction Fever video game we were trapped in.

  I had the perfect vantage point to plan my strategy as I watched the fight unfold in front of me. Harley sped towards the fevered foe, and I saw fraction after fraction in the floor beneath us. I solved them on automatic: seventy-one, ninety-eight, four, eleven.

  Harley’s suit crackled with green lightning, and she sped forward, Turbo Mode engaged. It was a thing of pure beauty to watch, and I swear, the game soundtrack, which had been heretofore silent, played “Unchained Melody.” And I wanted to watch the fight in slow mo.

  My wife stopped short of the burning creature, pinged from the corner of the left wall at an angle to the ceiling, then down to the corner of the right wall and the floor, then back up to the ceiling as the beast raged, “I need your love!”

  Harley kept bouncing, moving at angles around the Monster Yule, and the tenor of the music rose, the scorching brute grunting, whirling, trying to follow her movements.

  I caught flashes of silver as I tried to trace Harley’s movement, but she was on task, keeping the monster’s attention.

  It was time for me to make a move. Harley vaulted to the left, floor to ceiling, left to diagonal, a continuous flow of movement, and I engaged.

  Mission Accomplished: Devour 1/3 Blue Candy Cane

  Skill Rebooted: Will-Based Bubble Control

  I wanted to whoop for joy, but stealth was what was called for in that moment. I activated my foaming power and let it rise from my scalp. I focused my attention on a single bubble, expanding it around me so I was encased within it, then directed my intention into its outer surface.

  When the foam held the exact external structure of the air around it, the match was so complete that anything inside the bubble was not visible to those outside of it.

  Yes, Harley and I had practiced so thoroughly with my suds that I’d developed invisibility. My next obstacle was that Harley, the monster, and the web my wife was weaving around it were between me and my destination.

  I crept towards them slowly, aware that Harley wouldn’t see me since that was the point of my bubble cloak of invisibility.

  My beloved was still a silver and green streak bouncing off the walls, but I could see what she had done, and the Murder Yule was nearly finished, trapped within a field of silver that was nothing like the tinsel of the real world, for everywhere the flaming beast spewed its fire, the web around it only boomeranged the inferno back at its purveyor.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Bouncy-House Invento-Weapon Tinsel with literal fire-repelling powers. The whole place stank of burning popcorn, but the Christmas star surrounding the Murder Yule held it in a fire-proof field of containment.

  Harley was an expert gamer, and though math evaded her, puzzles were something we both loved. So I knew she would’ve accounted for every variable. Within that Christmas star of a monster trap, there had to be a pathway forward.

  Righteous Brothers crooning “And time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much,” I found it! There was a gap in the star between the left wall and the raging log, and that was our target. I paused, waiting for my wife to stop bouncing off the walls so we could finish the game and go home.

  I wasn’t entirely sure how the floor of this fraction game worked, but I had a theory. The Murder Yule had thonked its way down the corridor in a timed rhythm that I heard all around me in song right now, and that was a clue.

  As I considered the path forward, Harley came to a stop feet from me, glancing around the hallway.

  “Red?” she asked softly, and I let my invisibility bubble drop, popping into existence, but not startling her. Harley threw back her head and laughed as the Righteous Brothers crescendoed, declaring, “I-I-I-I ne-ee-eed your love! I-I-I-I-I need your love. . . .”

  Harley grabbed me by the shoulders, exclaiming, “You got them back! Your bubbles, my hand-soap princess!"

  “That’s right, Har, and now it’s time we went home, don’t you think?”

  Mission Accomplished: Save The Damsel

  Skill Activated: Power Accelerator x 1

  “What’s the plan, Red? It appears I have a boosting power of some sort.”

  “First, we need to get past this hell spawn, and I see you left us the perfect corridor, so let’s get to it!”

  We threaded our way through the tinsel star as its occupant continued raging. Once we were on the other side, Harley looked back, regret filling her face.

  “I wish I didn’t have to leave that popcorn whip; it was damned handy!”

  I threaded my arm through hers, engaging my Vigor as her Turbo Mode activated. As we zoomed forward towards the target floor tile, I reassured Harley, “You still have the Invento-Weapon Skill, so maybe any popcorn string will do?”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, nodding. “What’s the next step, Red? I don’t know how long the tinsel star will contain that thing!”

  “Not far now, Har! Get that Power Accelerator ready!”

  I saw what we needed ahead: the floor tile 1,078/11. The only question was: how did I tell the game I knew the right answer? Every step mattered, I could tell.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. The Righteous Brothers crooned as boots slammed flooring.

  Each pattern of our footsteps made the lights in the floor increase in time with the music, and we were so close to the target. Eighty-seven. Harley’s feet pattered against the floor in sync with mine, each step one, not two.

  Two feet, one being.

  Eigty-eight. Eighty-nine. Almost there.

  “Get ready, Harley!” I warned. Just a few steps more. Right, left. Right, left.

  Power Accelerator Engaged.

  It was time.

  Ninety-eight!

  As one, our right feet hit the floor tile, Harley ignited with green fire, and the floor burst with purple light, entire tile gleaming violet then exploding upwards, propelling us towards a ceiling that was no longer there.

  Everything was furious light, shredding all that was.

  Gone was the song my wife loved, and the sounds of Seattle replaced it. Barking dogs, sirens, raised voices of holiday revelers, and co-mingled with them, the sound of Harley’s distress.

  “Yaaaaaaack!” she howled, and I couldn’t blame her for the stench was beyond bad.

  Seconds later, the manhole cover above the sewer we were in burst upwards, and first Harley, then I, was forced through the opening and spat out onto the quiet street above.

  A familiar street. Only three doors down from the best sight in the world:

  Home.