Thane Ashford resisted the urge to scratch unhealing lesions on his neck. Today was ninety-two days after the outbreak, eleven days since he had tested positive for FORTIS-33. During a morning workout in his coffin apartment, he had started coughing blood, and the worst pain he had ever felt tore through his chest. Within minutes he had lost consciousness, then he had woken up in a semi-opaque plastic cube with tubes in his mouth and a needle in his arm.

How he had contracted the disease was a mystery. No one else from his apartment block was here suffering. He had followed lockdown protocols and curfews, stayed far away from any crowd, stayed indoors keeping preoccupied with videos games all of things. Yet it hadn’t been enough.

Now he was waiting for them to administer a lethal shot.

He was a twenty-four-year-old actor with a stern face fit for a wide range of lead roles. But he especially favored villains whether it be the unhinged maniac or the quick-talking mastermind. Something about these personas resonated with him. Maybe it was the thrill of pulling off a truly sinister act. His agent, Fred Zimmer, had said Thane was right guy to play any bad guy—if he were a decade older.

So for years he had slogged through unsuccessful auditions and taken minor roles in low-budget productions while living off plain salads and cheap protein powder, building a resume, waiting for his prime decades. And it all had been for naught. A wasted life. Not wasted. Just disappointing. He had no regrets. Unfulfilled aspirations, sure. But regrets? None. He had lived his time on this filthy planet to the fullest. The only bitterness he held was against the government for downplaying the initial outbreak.

He was ready for the shot.

He wheezed, “What are you waiting for?”

Doctor Ellis’s holographic head and shoulders fuzzed to clarity. Wrinkled bags hung under his eyes. “You still have time, Thane.”

“Time for what? I’ve already—” he coughed, tasting salty iron. “I’ve taken care of my affairs.”

He had said final goodbyes to his friends and family last night. And his will was settled; he was leaving his pitiful savings to his parents and older sister Ericka. His vast anime and movie collections were going to his younger brother Cade (who was more than financially stable as a junior hardware engineer). Thane’s suits and designer clothing, however, had been understandably taken by the authorities, likely to be burned, much to his best friends’ dismay. None of his physical possessions were his property anymore after the whole apartment complex had been evacuated, its residents taken to a separate quarantine facility.

Doctor Ellis finally said, “There could be a breakthrough cure any moment. A fit young man like you shouldn’t give up.”

Thane nipped laughter in the bud, because laughter only meant pain stabbing his throat. “Wouldn’t that be a miracle.”

“Science is built upon miracle discoveries. Have you heard of penicillin’s discovery?”

“I think so.” His high school memories were foggy. He couldn’t remember the names of his science teachers. “Wasn’t that hundreds of years ago? When science was not as…” He couldn’t find the right word. Toxins building up in his system were killing his brain.

“Well, there are always more mysteries of the universe to be—” Doctor Ellis’s head turned, and for a minute and a half, Thane stared at a wicked cut scar on the back of his neck before he turned back around with brighter eyes. “Your brother wants to see you. He’s excited.”

Curiosity stirred. “Excited?”

“Very.”

Abruptly Cade’s chubby features and adult acne replaced Doctor Ellis’s face. He was indeed beaming excitement, his puppy eyes gleaming through his glasses. “Hey bro. I’ve got great news.”

“Hey nerd. I knew you would be the one to find the cure.”

Cade’s eyes fell for a moment. “Not exactly that, but it’s just as good. Doctor Roth at work let me in on a top-secret black budget project—”

“Where do you work?”

“I told you—” He blinked. “Actually, I didn’t tell you. You were busy on set. I work at Synaptic Entertainment.”

Thane’s eyes widened. Synaptic was the greatest developer of best-selling virtual reality games ever since the first pods had hit the market. When it came to genres, Synaptic was a jack of trades, master of all. Their lineup included role-playing games, real-time strategies, various simulations, and even trading card games. Thane had been quite addicted to Starbattles (an RTS) during his teenage years, to the point that he had skipped acting classes to compete in a local tournament. He had dreamed of being a professional gamer. Maybe this was his only regret.

Thane whistled and ignored the pain. “Nice. You got a promotion?”

“Yeap, right after I mentioned you.” Cade smiled, although slight nervousness tensed his facial muscles.

“Wait, what?” Thane chuckled.

“So I was saying about the black budget project… How do I say this?” He scratched his head, looking around. “There’s going to be a mass rollout of a new VR tech to people dying of FORTIS-33. Basically, your mind will be transfered to a secure server where you will live inside a virtual Earth under development by us. So don’t get the lethal injection, got it?”

Thane frowned. “Wait, wait wait, what do you mean by transfered? How do you transfer neurons into ones and zeros?”

“Eh…” Cade’s mouth slanted. He adjusted his glasses. “It’s hard to explain, but basically you’ll be first given an initial deep brain implant to a region that’s like a master neural junction for consciousness to bridge you over to the server. Your memories and personality are copied, and then your brain is slowly cut away piece by tiny piece. Naturally, your consciousness transfers over to the server as that’s the only place it can go.”

The part about cutting away a brain piece by piece was shiver-inducing. Thane swallowed. “But are you sure my mind is transfered?”

Cade nodded. “One hundred percent. Trust me. This is the culmination of centuries of research. The server has special Quantum processors that mimics neurons down to the microtubules. It’s literally an artificial brain.”

“That I’ll be sharing with millions?”

“Pretty much, but you’ll have your sense of individuality.” He was adamant. “You might even get an android body down the line so you can visit this world.”

This was too strange and incredible to believe, something out of a science fiction movie. Curing the disease surely had to be easier… but what did Thane know? The only research papers he had read were on techniques to invoke genuine emotional physiology such as crying in grief. This was far outside his expertise. He trusted his brother: “Okay. I hope you’re right. So when is this getting rolled out?”

“Maybe in two weeks if things go smoothly.” Cade’s eyes wandered. “And not to everyone. There’s an upfront price tag of a million credits, and then yearly payments to cover server maintenance and other costs.”

“Shit,” Thane hissed, his stomach painfully clenching. “So I’m doubly fucked? Or are you going to sneak me into new eden early?”

Cade’s eyes flicked back to him with renewed excitement. “Doctor Roth talked to upper management, and long story short, after I gave them your resume, they want you to be the first test subject for the rollout. Free of charge. What do you say? By the way, this is recorded and I’m acting as an official representative.”

Thane felt his heart stutter in relief. “Of course I say yes. Why didn’t you say that quicker?”

Cade snorted. “My bad. I’m a bit stressed out here.”

“Thanks for going to the trouble. I mean it, you dork.” Eyes dramatically rolling, Thane exhaled. “But what about my resume—”

“Right.” Cade pushed up his glasses. "The virtual Earth is still under development, so you will have to live in an RPG game world, specifically Eventide Online. You said you play, right?”

Eventide was an open-world MMORPG with a flavor of RTS, emphasis on town-building, resource management, and production chains. Thane’s eyebrows shrugged. “Max level Orcish Spellblade.”

“Nice,” he said dismissively as though he already knew, “but you have to start a new account. You’re under strict NDA, and we don’t want anyone asking questions on why you never log out, so you have to pretend to be an NPC. You’re going to be an Undead Vampire World Elite with a high sentience rating as your cover.”

Thane couldn’t help but squint. On one hand, this was a perfect chance to play as the bad guy—as an Elite in a dark fantasy world. On the other, he would be an Undead Vampire, not exactly his favorite roleplaying fantasy. “Can I be anything else?”

Cade’s head shook. “Sorry, but this the only high-sentience Elite we have ready for release. You’re basically a prelude boss for the upcoming Vampire expansion, which you also can’t mention to anyone.”

“Does it have to be Eventide? What about a singleplayer RPG?”

Another head shake. “We need to stress-test. Eventide is the best because it has a large playerbase and high interactions between entities. Don’t worry, if you’re squeamish about drinking blood—”

“It’s not the blood. It’s the undead part. They smell like shit.” He swallowed a gag reflex, remembering the last disastrous raid on Blackridge Necropolis.

“Then don’t worry. You won’t have any rotting, exposed flesh. You’re more Vampire than Undead. You’re only classified as Undead because that’s the lore. And for balance reasons. We can also implement some special sensory adjustments for you as well.”

Thane tentatively said, “Okay, I trust you. When do I start?”

“Oh.” Cade glanced away for a second. “They already sent a helicopter. My job was to convince you to go willingly. You don’t have much of a choice. A lot of powerful people are pulling strings.”

First the million credit price tag. Now forced lab-ratting. As expected from rich snobs. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Eh…” Cade’s jaw shifted left and right. “The code for you playing as a player-NPC was really ad hoc. We’re spawning you into low-level wilderness, and you have to start out as a level one like any other player. If you die and have no respawn point, it’s basically game over and you’ll be uselessly stuck in limbo until we manually intervene. The higher-ups really won’t like that after how much I boasted about your gaming skills. They kind of hinted that I’ll be demoted to a menial role if you mess up.” Cade winced.

“Wow,” Thane breathed.

“Yeah, it’s a tough corporate culture.” His expression hardened. “But I get where they’re coming from. A lot is riding on this. A lot of dying people will need to be transfered. So don’t mess up, got it? Make sure you have a backup spawnpoint in case your base gets wiped.”

“Bro, you’re talking to a level ninety-nine Orcish Spellblade. I know how to play this game. It’s all I played during lock—” He coughed in a spike of pain at the base of his throat. Blood drops flew threw Cade’s hologram. “During lockdown. I’ve got this. Trust me.”

Cade’s posture straightened. “Good. I’ll see you at the lab.”

“Seeya.”

Waiting for Doctor Ellis to check in, Thane swished bloody saliva under his tongue. The smooth, salty taste was one which he could grow on while playing as a vampire, spreading the disease of vampirism, assuming that’s how the mechanics functioned. The game designers at Synaptic had to be real deviants to be working on this expansion during these times.