Chapter One:

A Decade of Memories

November, 2022

In the wires of Wilberforce, Kansas, it crept forward cautiously.

It knew it was far too small to be seen. It would arrive at its destination with ease. But still, it wanted to be careful. It had chosen an unusual destination, one that its master hadn't necessarily had in mind. It knew that he would be pleasantly surprised if it went there and all the more so if it succeeded. Even so, it was a risk.

It was a risk worth taking, though. As the saying went, "nothing ventured, nothing gained."

In Ralph's dreams, he was falling again.

He knew how it would end. It would end as it had that night, when Vanellope had driven Crumbelina's kart into Diet Cola Mountain, saving him from the fiery fate to which he had resigned himself. It was not that which occupied his subconscious, however, that night. It was the cookie medal that hung about his chest.

If that little kid likes me, how bad can I be?

Ralph's eyes snapped open. He sat up, remembering his words from the Bad-Anon meeting.

"Ten years," he said to himself.

Slowly, he clambered out of bed and headed towards the opposite wall. Several items were hanging there. Mostly, they were odds and ends. A few were pictures drawn by Vanellope von Schweetz. They were terrible -the kid had never been a good sketcher- but he treasured them regardless because of who had made them.

The cookie medal rested on a peg in the center of it all. Ralph gazed at it with no small measure of tenderness.

I've had a good decade. Made good friends, had a bunch of adventures- yeah, a good decade.

It hadn't been without its ups and downs, of course. There had been trials, tribulations, tragedies. From the tangle with Dr. Despair, to the invasion of SANG, to the harrowing trip to the internet and beyond, Ralph and his friends had faced multiple threats. Always, they had come out on top, but sometimes, it was a narrow thing.

It was Vanellope who had truly been tested by fire, however. From gamer hate to a series of increasingly deadly and despicable characters, the universe had seemingly tried its hardest to break the little kid's spirit. Ralph had done what he could for her at every step of the way, from being her emotional support to literally fighting for her life. In the process, their relationship had deepened, perhaps shifted. In a way, he now felt almost as much her father as her friend.

Yet for all that, the hard choices had been hers to make. It wasn't Ralph who had wrestled with all those demons- it was Vanellope. At the cost of her many scars, mental and physical, she had worked hard to better herself, to nurture the kindness and empathy that had kept her from the depths of nihilism in the fifteen years of lonely misery before they had met. Now, gentler and wiser, if no less winsome and excitable, Vanellope's heart glowed more brightly than ever. And Ralph was proud of her for it.

Turning away from the wall of memorabilia, Ralph glanced out at his window. The arcade was still dark. It would be another hour before opening time.

She'll still be asleep right now. Bless her, she wore herself out today. Again. What a kid. Ralph smiled softly. What a decade.

In Vanellope's dreams, she was safe and warm.

She rarely had nightmares anymore. She had memories, both dark and light, interweaving in a melody- sometimes discordant, but always ending softly. She knew how the pain had ended, that her friends had helped her to endure. To be sure, a part of her still longed for more adventure and excitement. But that longing was very much tempered by the comfort her life in the arcade provided- a comfort borne of bitter experience. If she had ever been tempted to take her friendships for granted, she couldn't imagine doing so now. Not after nearly losing everything.

Vanellope's eyelids fluttered open. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and glanced about.

It was still dark outside her window. Another hour at least until the arcade would open. She hadn't expected to wake up for another half an hour at least; the preceding day had been particularly active, with Sugar Rush getting more traffic than it had in over a year- and with her on the roster. Chosen at least fifteen times that day, she had won some races and lost others. The tracks were familiar by now, but she didn't mind. It was the sheer joy of racing itself, together with the happiness of the gamers, that made her gun the engine every time. Vanellope loved her game.

Even more than racing, however, Vanellope loved her friends. And while playing favorites gave her the tiniest twinge of guilt, she had to admit it- she loved Ralph most of all.

Looking back over the past decade, she was more grateful than ever for his selflessness. Once upon a time, he had been a self-centered character. But not anymore- not with her. He'd saved her life more than once, given of his time, his experience, all without prompting. True, he had a temper sometimes. But with her, it never lasted long.

He gave me everything- a home, a future, friendship. He knew when to push, and when to give me space. Without Ralph, I would never have made it this far.

Vanellope pushed the covers aside and slid out of her bed. She gazed about the bedroom, taking in the shelves, the mirror, the displays, the cabinet of memorabilia. All of it so comforting, so familiar.

I have a good life. I hope it never changes.

It reached a turn in the wire, headed around the curve, and stopped. Ahead was its destination. It knew better than to go in now. Better to wait until twelve hours later, when everyone would be milling about, and the watchful guardian would be too distracted to detect it. Then it could observe carefully and decide whom to enter.

After all, it paid to be careful when venturing into Litwak's Arcade.