(Written by: Aaron, Edited by Zenith, Art by Adalia)
The crowds of pedestrians seem to follow your slow trek through the city. Tall, grey buildings ascend left and right into the artificial sky, birdcalls chiming chime from black glass walls. There are no birds in the sky, though—they have all died off over the last century. You can choose another way to maneuver through the dark buildings and hide from the blinding white light of the sun—but many have chosen not to, including you. Crowds bustle along on the ground, their march an implicit protest to the cars that zoom past in the sky. This does not mean that you are able to overcome the smog that covers every street, alley, and building with a thick layer of black particles. But no one has made the effort to clear it off; instead, the government distributes standard gas masks, one of which covers your own face. You can see the bubble-like structures as far as your vision extends, fitted around the heads of people walking by.
As you make your way towards your destination, a dark spear towering higher than all the other sky scrapers that have been built over the past few decades, your eyes cannot help but wander. Still, all that greets them are fake white clouds against a projected blue sky, and a perpetual chemical cloud that you wade slowly through, the grime sticking to your clothes and dying your clothes a damp, light gray. Now, how can this be the ‘real life’, you ask, especially with the advancement of technology and the rising importance of games within our world? It is a fair question that many have been asking as more and more people have succumbed to the lure of games. A more novel representation of this shift was set with the newest Guinness Record for Longest Stay in Games: five full years.
As technology advanced and games grew gradually more realistic, people have been immersing themselves into their computers and fictional worlds. The surge paralleled the age-old conquest of America, the sudden spread of people into games with a zeal that was never seen before. And you are a part of this movement, though probably not as prominent or probably leading the movement. No matter.
High-definition television displays cover the entire building. Upon them, pixies and elves dance among whizzing fireballs, their chants blasting from the screens. Your eyes grow wide and you take another step forward, only to stumble into a pot of hyper realistic holographic flowers. As you are regaining your balance, the images on the screens fade away, only to be replaced with the words Divine Reach. Gold, radiant, dazzling—each letter is carefully underlined and bordered with thin strokes of black.
Divine Realm. The windows of the buildings that surround the gaming center reflect these words, but they are but dimmer, weaker, muddier. The holographic flowers flicker around your feet, and so you step back and turn your eyes away from the large screen as it flickers back to the same images of fighting sprites and magic spells. Your eyes once again focus on the large black doors that stay open as figures stream in one by one, each with a curious gaze mirroring your own. The words from the e-mail that you received yesterday flashes across your mind again: You have been selected to be one of the first to enter the world of ‘Divine Realm’! The holographic confetti that had fallen from nowhere seems brushing against your skin.
“Welcome!” The large lobby beckons you—and you follow inside, along with many other people of various age, race and affluence. Your ticket and invitation is shown with a quick beep, followed by a quick verification scan—it hurts your eyes and parches your mouth—and soon enough, you are forced into the large crowd in the lobby. A man passes you in a fully gold vest, his moustache lined with gold and diamonds. To your other side, a little girl rushes past in the most standard, cheap form of clothes provided in the modern world you live in, a paper invitation clutched tightly in her hands. Many others like them crowd around in the lobby; your eyes catch familiar gamers that you have met in many other game launches and in-game battles.
But before anyone can really start mingling, holographic butlers and waitresses show up in long rows along the two sides of the lobby. The large black doors slam shut as the lights dim. The shadows of the columns that line the lobby cast twisted shadows on the walls. The silhouettes of the other invitees dance around the room as they shuffle here and there, their hands outstretched as their eyes slowly adjust to the darkness. The shadows of the beverages and food are like mountains and forests on the walls, beckoning all to the world of the unknown.
Walking forward, the holographic humanoid A.I.s guide people one by one out of the room through different small corridors. Like everyone else, you stand separated from the other people, scared of committing some sort of sacrilege against the set social system within the modern world—especially between the gamers and the ‘others’. You are a gamer, someone who takes games to the next level compared to real life interactions. Your name on a board in a game—your name as a fable within a game—is the most important thing to you, and the most important thing to most of the others whom slowly filter out of the lobby. Like sheep behind individual shining holographic figures, you think.
Finally, it is your turn to leave.
“Please, follow me.” The holographic woman in front of you bows, her bunny ears passing through your chest, and although you cannot touch them, you can almost feel them piercing you, right above your heart.
“Please, follow me.” The ear-daggers slip out of your chest as the woman turns around and disappears into a dark corridor. You can see no end to the hall, but you still feel excitement coursing through you.
This is Divine Reach!
You follow.
The process is arduous. You look left and right, expecting to see a corridor branching off—but only uniform white greets your eyes. The holographic woman continues to walk smoothly in front of you, her bunny ears bouncing up and down in the air. (Though, really, you aren’t very interested in that sort of dress up, are you?) But the walk continues on. You have nothing to stare at but the bouncing motion of the A.I’s ears.
Your impatience grows; the whiteness of the walls are growing into your eyes, bleaching it of all color that it once held, of all the humanity that resided in you and whatever humanity you have obtained from the games you played in the past, because you cannot think of any other color since white, white, white flows into your mind with a never-ceasing stream consciousness—before it suddenly stops.
Another white room.
It didn’t have a long corridor, but a chair instead.
“Please, follow me.” It would seem as if the huge corporation that allowed for the development of Divine Reach had run out of money for the game’s grand launch. But it doesn’t matter; you sit down on the plush, soft white chair as the holograph walks towards you with a very real needle in her hands.
“To ensure that you have the best experience in ‘Divine Reach’ with your friends and strangers, our corporation has developed a new formula that allows the better connection of your nerves to our gaming system!” A male voice booms from up above as if someone divine were talking down at you. But rather than religious doctrine, the voice talks about the psychological make up of a human’s mind, the abilities you would be able to do if you allowed the holograph to insert the serum needle into your arm. Of course, you accept immediately, despite the sickly yellow fluid in the syringe, and the holograph takes no time to press the needle harshly down into your arm.
Pain.
But the pain is only temporary as the fluid rushes into your body. Euphoria comes next, as if your body is trying to accommodate the yellow syrup. Then, it is gone as well.
You sit in the chair alone, the serum and the lady gone. Slowly, light metal claw-like structures grasp at your ankles, wrist and neck.
“To ensure that you do not harm yourself or other equipment, our corporation has made sure to include bondages that will keep you safe!”
You do not feel much panic towards this. There has been news in the past depicting game systems going utterly wrong, causing in-game movements to transfer to out-of-game movements.
“Sit back and relax. Your journey to ‘Divine Reach’ shall begin in a few more seconds!”
Silence once more, except for a small whirring noise that passes through the walls. You seem to feel the room move slightly as the whirring noise increases—but then seems to stop, though you cannot be sure. The corridor is still there, but it is hard to tell. Unable to move much, you lay your head back down and stare at the white ceiling as best as you can. When your eyes protest, you close them. Red veins traverse across your eyelids against the bright white light, as if a reminder that you are actually alive—that blood still flows in your veins.
But the red suddenly goes away.
An amalgam of colors fills your vision, a rainbow melting behind your eyelids. You open your eyes but still you can only see the colors: melding together, before pulling apart once more. Wind rushes past your body, chills run down your back. You can no longer feel the chair behind you as you fall—through pails upon pails of paint, until they start to subtract from one another, taking pigment away from pigment, shade away from shade until there is nothing left.
Nothing left but darkness.