It is 2025. I receive a particular email; an announcement of life-size Eeveelution plushies, from the offical Pokemon merch webite, āPokemon Centerā. I check them out on a whim.
Not only are they expensive, but based on the reference photos, theyāre huge. I only have the money and space for one, and I like all of the Eeveelutions equally. With a quick āEeny, meeny, miney, moe,ā I land on my choice. Espeon.
I place my preorder. The expected delivery date is around late November.
I check the page as late November rolls around.
I am struck with awareness, the knowledge I am alive. The door of my capsule hisses open, cool mist spilling out. With little else to do, I put my palms beneath me, and begin to sit up.
As far as I can see, there is nothing but other capsules. As far I as I can see, I am the only one with an open door. Panic seizes my mind.
I was promised a better life. A new life. A new Earth. Effective immortality. My body is failing me. I am 175 years old. The last thing I remember is a woman telling me that everything would be ok. I do not remember her name. I do not remember her face.
Before I can think further, something catches my eye. Something red, blaring. A monitor on wheels and a pole, situated beside my capsule. āEMERGENCYāVERIFICATION REQUIREDā āEMERGENCYāVERIFICATION REQUIREDā.
I lean closer. Closer. As my misty breath reaches the screen, light extends from a widget at the top, scanning my face. The red fades. Something new appears.
I live, I breathe, and I cry for the first time in 18,000 years.
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