Last page of chapter one. ;) Remember kind readers, no stealing. Ideas by [KS]. Written by [MR].
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    For the rest of the day, Mark resumed his immature, puppy like attitude, leaving [?] with yet another noisy day on his noisy island. The girls continued to swarm like a mob, well cult, or estrogen high bees. He was once again surrounded by too many people too many times at too many places. One thought did give a little more meaning to his forced smiles and straining kind voice.
    That hacker is going down…

 
 

Page 4! Whee!
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    “You’re back at square one!” Rosella giggled, floating in her own little spot.
    [?] blinked, letting the area focus. “I guess I am,” he said as he looked around at the familiar squares and clear-as-glass blocks in the walls.
    “I got all the information saved. It’s ready to be accessed at any time.”
    “Then load it up,” [?] commanded eagerly.
    “If you haven’t noticed though, you’re not Dech’e at the moment.”
    [?] looked down only to find the slacks to his school uniform. His beat up shoes were leering back at him against the glassy floor.
    “It doesn’t matter right now. I’m curious about the files, not how I look” [?] replied without a second look as he pulled up the display and shifted through the newly acquired files.
    “But you’re so cute. You should care,” Rose smiled as she began retrieving the files.
    “Whatever,” was his reply as the information filled the screen.
    “You know,” Rose said as the information began to gather, “this person seems a bit…different from the other hackers.”
    “How so?”
    “It seems that he or she uses a lot of text and number coding…”
    “I don’t see how that’s any different,” [?] replied confused, looking at his strange friend with an expression to match.
    “I don’t know,” Rose twirled a strand of hair with her finger, “it’s like they’re only using their keyboard or something. No VirtuTru or anything. There are missed typed coding here and there.”
    [?] stifled a little laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous Rosella. Hacking without a VirtuTru? I’ve done it before and it’s almost impossible.”
    “Almost,” Rose emphasized. “Meaning it’s possible.”
    “I don’t see where you’re going with this,” [?] looked at her. “Does it matter? No matter what they use, a hacker is a hacker. I don’t care if it took them a minute to get into my system, or a year.”
    “I was just saying,” Rose pouted. “Little details can be important.”
    “Again, it-“
    There was a loud ringing that bounced off the sterile looking walls. The display suddenly shattered and the walls condensed into nothing.
    “It’s the bell,” Rose smiled. “I guess I’ll see you later!”
    “But I wasn’t done!”
    “You can look at them later. You wouldn’t want to be caught would you? Really, you’re becoming a bit obsessive over this person aren’t you?”
    “Not obsessive,” [?] told the shrinking figure outlined with nothingness.
    Rosella giggled and waved as she digitized into a little pixel of nothing.
    The blackness of the formerly loaded SquareOne was now only a blurred image of the classroom. Quickly slipping out his drive and stuffing it into his pocket, [?] removed the head set and placed it back in its spot. Looking up, he saw Mark, arms crossed, glaring at him.
    “What?” he asked calmly.
    “You know what,” Mark snapped about as menacingly as a drenched kitten.
    “Look, I’m sorry. But I’m really busy tonight,” [?] replied with a sigh, throwing his bag over his shoulders and getting up. “Maybe next time man,” he offered, trying to get Mark to move away from him.
    “Fine,” Mark huffed. “But next time for sure!”

 
 

Page 3! Enjoy.
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    “Not here…”
    “Found it!” The pillars of binary shattered into shimmering green light. Rose’s eyes resumed their normal, almost slow, flashing of numbers. She floated over to Dech’e display and placed a palm over it.

Processing request. Searching for profile G308087KL under search ‘Dirieam Arena One’.

    “Good work Rosella,” Dech’e smirked, watching the data carefully.
    “Two,” was announced from behind. The two were too busy to notice.

Request has been processed. Pulling up profile.

    “Let’s see…” Rose said to herself.

Access denied. Profile breech – Fail Safe Mode Activated. The program will now terminated. Any unsaved data will be lost.

    Dech’e and Rose’s eyes widened. Below the standard you-screwed-up sort of message, was a personal one.

Remember, do not hack into private profiles. Have a nice day. ;)

    “The he-” Dech’e started.
    Rose had bumped Dech’e out of the way as she furiously moved her fingers across the screen. The arena was crumbling now. The glassy looking ceiling evaporated into the shining black above. The walls crumbled into glassy data blocks, letting more black leak in, reminding Dech’e of his friend’s expression. Rows of seats that had been programmed in faded away like mist.
    “I got into the profile. It’s all saved!” Rose waved at Dech’e, smiling as she digitized out of the arena.
    “Let’s hope this person was worth all the trouble to reprogram this place,” Dech’e said to nothing in particular.
    The rims of the floor fell in like dust. A shaking static covered Dech’e as he observed his hard work flying away. If only people would fly away from him. If only the people he knew would jump on their planes and leave his island.
    “Whoever you are little hacker, you’ll regret hacking my system. I don’t need problems here. Problems are for real life, not this.”
    “You’re just jealous there’s someone better than you,” Rose’s voice chimed from nowhere in particular.
    “Either way,” Dech’e shrugged humorously. Then, like the arena, Dech’e shattered into the DataScar, looking forward to the night all the while.

 
 

And now...drum roll...page 2. Happy readings. :)
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    The boy was testy. Agitated. Annoyed, to say the least. Maybe it was the hard look he gave the flashing display perched over the walled arena that gave it away. Maybe it was the way his mouth was twisted into a crooked frown. Maybe it was how his brow was furrowed in agitation, with his arms crossed menacingly. Or maybe it was the fact that the agitated physical positions were matched with commentary.
    “Five minutes,” Dech’e said, eyes still sending invisible rays of hatred at the display. “Too long.”
    "Come on Dech’e. It was an awfully good time,” Rose chirped happily. She floated over to him happily, quite the opposite of Dech’e’s current disposition. Her almost silver threads of hair hung over the pale dress and the small set of fairy like wings. Her face gave off an innocent, but very playful look. “You complain too much.”
    Dech’e raised an agitated eyebrow and added an agitated frown. His agitated arms uncrossed and his agitated eyes gave her a look. “What ever you say,” came his reply with an agitated eye roll.
    “You’re too nit-picky.”
    “It took five minutes to shove his face into the dirt. Four minutes too long. That could have been four more wins for me.”
    “Always the perfectionist,” Rose giggled with a wink.
    The mechanical voice interrupted them as it began spitting out data and results into the glassy blocked walls. “Battle ID. A5198OPJ. Time taken. 00:04:57. Reward. 2938 gold. Dirieam Arena rank. Two.”
    “Two?” he said thoroughly surprised. He turned his no longer quite as agitated head to his chipper friend.
    Rose tilted her head, letting the thin strings of hair flutter over her dress. “That would be the data.” She looked at him blankly as the shifting numbers in her eyes flashed about.
    Dech’e pulled out his display as the voice droned and his friend shifted through her own files. His personal display spilled out from the digital blocks of the unruly unreality. Cluttered with thin floating files, Dech’e sorted through his extensive archive.
    “Battle ID. A5198OPJ,” the announcing program repeated.
    "Dech’e,” Rose said coming out of her trance, “it seems like someone entered the arena and managed to change the stats.” She smiled almost innocently. “Whoever it is deserves the number one rank if they got by your security. I want to meet this person myself!” She chuckled happily, completely oblivious to Dech’e disgusted look.
    “Time taken. 00:04:57,” the background continued.
    “Quit laughing and help me find out who this person is. I want their profile pulled up.”
    “Jealous someone got through?” Rose chimed as she reentered her trance. The numbers not only flashed through her eyes but also through her cupped palms.
    “Reward. 2938 gold.”
    Dech’e snorted at the remark. Indeed, he was jealous. Annoyed possibly. Most likely a combination of the two. Not many people could get through his security walls. He would have to see to them himself. He shifted through the numbers as they blinked through his floating display. Profile after profile appeared, only to disappear and be replaced with another.
    “No one in this sector of files,” he told himself. The mechanical voice chimed in again.
    “Dirieam Arena rank…”
    “File sector F879. Cleared,” Rose said in a detached tone.

 
 

Sorry for the wait, but here's CONNECT's first page. Names are tentative...or non-existence. So for the time being, the main male character's name is [?].
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    He was on his own little island. Yes, a not so lonely island in a not so far off place called school, crowded with a never ending stream of tourists. It was a bit like a moving mob. Well, not quite a mob, but something like it. Maybe a cult would be a better term for it…
    Either way, what else could he expect? He was [insert main protagonists’ name here]. The [?]. The new kid that suddenly became the talk of the class, the star quarterback without actually becoming the quarterback or any form of a jock what so ever. Mature, sensible, and all that other good stuff that the girls threw themselves at him for.
    [?] peered over the crowded shoulders as the teacher strolled in. Shoulders back, head high in a gray cocoon, she shot an almost disgusted glare through her speck-less too-bright chrome glasses at the little island.
    “I’d like to begin class,” she snapped. The kids turned their heads and most began to drag their feet to their not so inviting desks.
    “Kill joy,” his friend Mark breathed. “Anyway, tonight at me house, okay? I even invited that hot blond in our math class. I know how you like blonds,” he nudged [?], practically drooling at the thought.
    “You are referring to yourself aren’t you?” he raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m not the one drooling on the floor. Don’t you ever think of anything else?”
    “What else is there to think of? Hot girls man. Hot girls. That’s good enough for me. What else is there? That nerdy VirtuLife crap?”
    “They’re VirtuViewers moron.”
    “Like you really-”
    “Mr. Anderson! Sit down or leave my class!” the teacher practically yelled.
    Mark shot a look at [?] but pulled his feet to his desk.
    “Now that you all are done, lets begin at section two in book three. They’ll be in the community files on server E.”
    [?] grabbed the headgear hanging from the side of his desk and slid it over his dark, messy hair. As the play jumped against the pane and the teacher began to drone like a robot, [?] slid his key into the Jump Slot. The flashing data ran across the system instead, and for the rest of the period, the dear adventurer sailed to his secret island, away for the tourists and crazy fan girls.



Player 2 defeated. Player 1 wins.
    “Good game man. You’re pretty good at these PVPs. I’m surprised you haven’t entered any tournaments.” The taller, more muscular, and certainly more friendlier player offered a hand to the younger man.
    “Yeah,” he said deafly, shaking his defeated opponent’s hand with about as much enthusiasm as someone watching paint dry.
    “Hey, you should join our guild. We need players like you!” the bear man beamed.
    “I’ll pass,” Dech’e’s monotone voice replied, laced with hinting agitation.
    The man must have caught the hint for he handed the pouch of gold over and digitized out of the arena.