My life sucks.

They say if you think you’re crazy, then you’re not really crazy. I wish that worked with being poor.

I live in a place called The Boxes. What it really is is a city of small, metal, living quarters stacked God only knows how high atop other metal boxes. A small window allows me to look out into the world. There’s not much to look at, really. I watch the drones as they fly by, delivering food which will be dropped, sterilized, and then transported in an air tight shoot to others just like me living in their own boxes. I can see hundreds of other boxes across the alley, but that’s about it. I don’t know how many of us live here.

They say The Boxes used to be a part of a country called the United States. That was back before nuclear war wiped out a large portion of the population and forced those who survived to live locked away from the toxins and radiations it left behind. I hear there are parts of the world where people can still go outside without masks. This isn’t one of them. I haven’t been outside in close to a year. Not since I moved from the orphanage to my very own box.

Once I graduated, the orphanage didn’t want me anymore and sent me out on my own. They don’t receive gold anymore after I turn eighteen, so I don’t really blame them. It’s been so long since I’ve been outside that I’ve forgotten what fresh air smells like. My box smells like sweat and staleness. The sad thing is I don’t even know what it smells like in the game. You see, I’m a data miner. Now that I have graduated my basic studies, I’ve been working eight hours a day swinging a pickaxe in the game, watching trails of data spring from the rocks and drift pass me into the air. Data mining is a good profession for someone like me. It at least pays the bills and gives me something to do.

The mines I work in are designed after coal mines. Coal hasn’t been used in centuries, but I guess the designers thought they were being cute. They love being cute. I’ve never actually been able to explore what the game truly has to offer. It takes money to do that. I can’t afford even the most basic Worldpass, so the only places I can go are the mines and my home portal, which is basically just as drab and boring as my box. But I do have free access to the web and am able to read about what others are able to do. I love watching streams of people as they go to the fantasy worlds and level up their avatars.

Data mining doesn’t pay very well. It gets me three meals a day and this small metal box. That’s about it. Oh, and I have my haptic suit. The designers send everyone a basic version the day they graduate. It’s nothing fancy, but it gives me the in-game experience as if I was actually there. There are sensors and microscopic needles that feed right into my body, stimulating my muscles as if I were actually there. Everything feels real, minus pain. They tone it down a notch, but it still hurts. I’ve never died in the game, but they say that pain registers about a tenth of what it would be in real life.

The light flickers overhead and I know it’s time to power up my room. A stationary bicycle sits in the corner with a few wires that connect to a plug in the wall. I ride the bike for two hours a day and it powers my room for twenty-four hours.

Most of us in The Boxes don’t have enough money to pay for power. I guess the game designers realized this, so they started installing self-sustaining power sources in each box. The developers would never let my power go completely out. That would kill me. There is a grid that keeps the air purifier working, but for anything else, I have to power it myself. They do provide free internet, though. They make so much money from the game that they can afford to give it out for free. It makes people think they owe something to the game designers and therefore, when they have extra money, it all goes back into the game.

The game is called Pangea Online. Named after the super-continent that existed before it all broke apart and gave us the world as we know it. I think it was their vision of bringing the world together under one game that sprouted the name. Before Pangea came along, everything people wanted to do on the web was segmented in different places. Now, it’s all together. And it’s all interactive. Humanity lives over two-thirds of their lives plugged into Pangea. Unless you’re the uber-rich, most people no longer buy things for the real world. They spend their money on nice homes, clothes, and skills. All in the game. All virtual reality. None of it is real. And still I have nothing. Yes, my life sucks.

***

After I charge up my room for the day, I strap myself into my haptic suit. I split my charging into two sessions, one before work and one after. It’s less boring that way. The suit fits snugly around my body, capable of dispatching pressure at any moment so that I feel whatever is happening to my body in Pangea. I feel a slight discomfort as the needles find their way into my body. The suit can even warm and cool as I walk through different climates, not that everything in the mines isn’t hotter than the bowels of hell. I put on my VR headset and it takes up the entirety of my vision, allowing me to experience the game as if I were literally transplanted there. The only senses I can’t experience are taste and smell. If I had a top of the line unit, it could mimic the smells of my surroundings. Considering where I work, I count it as a blessing. There is nothing worse than a hot fart in an enclosed space. I’ve experienced enough of those in my box.

I press my fingertips together and the blackness of my headset morphs into a three dimensional world. The words ‘Welcome to Pangea Online’ appear over a blue swirling portal. If I were rich, I might see hundreds of portals in front of me, but since I am not, there is only the mines. I jump through the portal and dozens of worlds spin by me, offering glimpses of what else Pangea has to offer. Too bad I’ll never see any of it.

The entrance to the mines greets me when the spinning stops. Tiny icons dot the edge of my vision detailing my health, stats, items, messages and a translucent map of my surroundings. There are hundreds of mines. I can see my destination as a flickering orange dot on the map. My inventory is scarce. All I have are my pick and my hard hat. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to hold a sword or cast magic, but I doubt that will ever happen. I focus on the pickaxe and it suddenly appears in my hand. I check the stats on it.

Item: Basic Pickaxe. +2 attac. A pickaxe is a miner’s best friend.

I check my avatar’s stats while I march to the mine I am scheduled to work in for the day. The only ability I have learned is mining. My stamina has recovered overnight and I’ll be ready to start swinging the pickaxe soon enough.

The thing about Pangea Online being a worldwide game is that all of the users are bound by the same constraints. Sure, money can buy you items to help your avatar seem more powerful than they actually are, but everyone is bound by two solid principles, stats and experience. Even mining grants experience. As you level up, each level grants a certain number of stat points to be allocated towards various skills. There is Strength, Agility, Vitality, Intellect, Dexterity and Stamina. Over the past year of mining, I’ve put all the stat points I have accumulated into strength. My avatar is far stronger than I could ever hope to be, but it allows me to gain more experience with each swing of my pickaxe.

More or less, my character is modeled after me. Dark hair, pale features and tall. I was a scrawny and weak a year ago when I first started, but since the haptic suit feeds right into my body, my muscles are as ripped and as strong as my character.

My message icon blinks at me. I focus on the message and my inbox pops into view. It is a translucent gray and I can still see the world as I walk. The message is from Buzz. He works in the mines with me and is probably my best friend. His message reads:

Yo Esil,

Did you hear about the new tournament happening all over Pangea? A hundred thousand gold to the winner. Gah, I wish I could compete, but you know, work. See you in the mine.

-Buzz

Buzz loves watching people play games during his time away from the mines. It’s practically all he does. He’s never competed a day in his life, though. In fact, he’s just as poor as me. He always talks about how good he could be if he took time off from work. He lives with his mom in a box not much bigger than mine. I only know because he let it slip one day that his mother had been sick. I haven’t told him much about myself. I prefer not to talk about the orphanage.

I send him a quick message. The game automatically translates my voice to text and sends it to Buzz. I tell him I haven’t heard about the tournament and I can’t wait to hear more.

He’s waiting for me at the entrance to mine one hundred and twenty four. His avatar is not as big as mine. For whatever reason, Buzz elected to put all of his stat points into intellect. In the rest of Pangea, it might be useful. He could equip magic items and cast spells, but there is no benefit to it here. Because of his buffoonery, Buzz is still level two after a year. On the other hand, with the additional experience my strength has garnered me, I am level four.

He wears a stained shirt and jeans, the same as me. In one hand, he holds his pickaxe, in the other, his yellow helmet with a light attached to the front. A huge smile beams across his face.

“Another day in paradise,” he jokes.

We walk into the mine and immediately I feel warmer. Green ones and zeros flutter past me as they exit the tunnel. Data. Someone has already started working. The mine is dimly lit by dangling light bulbs with glowing filament. A single pair of tracks leads us down the cavern. Walls as black as night surround us on all sides. This place would be hell for someone afraid of enclosed spaces.

At the end of the tunnel, Grayson, one of the longest tenured mine workers is already sweating as he swings his axe. He enters in the morning with a gray beard, and by the end of his shift he looks twenty years younger. No one knows how long he has been working in the mines, but everyone I’ve met says the same thing. He was here when they started.

“About time you boys showed up,” he says. His voice is as gruff as the cavern, but there is a twinkle in his eye. When I focus on Grayson, his stats pop up to the side of my vision. He is level twenty-five, practically unheard of in the mines. His individual stats are not displayed, which is common in higher level players to keep opponents from sizing them up before a battle. Over the years, he must have been able to save some gold, because he has a diamond-tipped pickaxe. What I would do for one of those.

“Good to see you, Grayson,” I say. “How was your night?”

“It was good, I spent the evening on a beach listening to mermaids sing,” he says between swinging the pick. Grayson is the only miner I know who has a pass to go to other worlds. I wonder if I work hard enough, will I be able to buy one someday?

“Why would you go to a beach when you could go into a gameworld?” asks Buzz.

He and I both begin working. Each swing of my pick sends bright green data fluttering through the air. It flows down the cavern, casting an eerie glow in the darkness. I have no idea what kind of data we are mining or where it goes. All I know is that this is my life. My dull, monotonous life.

Buzz keeps talking. “So Esil, the tournament. How did you not read about it? It’s the largest payout in game history. One. Hundred. Thousand. Gold.” He enunciates every word for effect.

“I guess I missed it.” Truth be told, I had spent the previous evening watching a stream following an elvin princess and her band of dwarven followers as they traveled through a mountainous pass overtaken by orcs. It had been an exciting three hours before I fell asleep. I much prefer watching people quest and explore in the gameworlds. I guess because in my own life, everything is planned out and routine, I like the freedom and adventure that RPGs bring. Buzz loves PvP games, where its player versus player. I think those are boring, it’s the same goal every time.

“I thought it would have been your kind of thing. It’s a quest this time. They say three ancient relics have been hidden across the gameworlds. They haven’t announced all the details yet, but I hear it is taking place over all of Pangea. Nobody know where the relics will be. Once you find them, they open a portal to a new world no one has ever played. It’s going to be epic! If I wasn’t working, you know. I mean, just think of what we could do with that money. We’d be set for life.”

“Pipe dreams,” says Grayson. He wipes sweat from his brow and leaves a black streak on his forehead.

“You’re such a downer,” says Buzz.

“I’m a realist.”

“This coming from a man who listens to mermaids singing on a beach in his free time,” I say and they both laugh.

The day passes slowly, but Buzz fills us in on all the details of the upcoming tournament. I almost feel sorry for him, but then I realize that it gives him hope. The mines would be a terrible place for him if he didn’t have hope of someday leaving them.

When a small ding alerts me that our shift is over, I notice my XP bar is only a few points away from hitting level five. I would love to be able to allocate my points before the next shift, so I tell Buzz to go ahead and that I’ll catch up with him later tonight after I power up my room.

I’ve heard that at level five, you gain a few extra item slots in your inventory. Not that it would help me much with my two items, but it’d be cool nonetheless. I’m four XP away from leveling up so I swing faster. My stamina bar shrinks with each hit, but I’ll have the whole night to recharge. Data trails past me in a stream. I’m focused. The only thing that matters is hearing the chime telling me I’ve leveled up.

I’m one XP away when my stamina drops to zero. My swings are slower than they have ever been. My arms feel heavy with each movement and I know my haptic suit is making me feel fatigued. With great effort, I take one final swing and watch my experience bar fill completely before resetting to zero.

A loud chime rings in my ear and a bright silver five sweeps across my vision. My inbox fills with notifications. I’ll check them later when I get home. The last bit of data streams out of the tunnel and I am left in the dimly lit cavern once more. Out of the edge of my vision I see something shiny where I had just been digging.

I bend down to examine it and see a small handle protruding beneath the coal. I give it a hard pull but it doesn’t move. I begin swinging the pick again and the green glow returns as data flies past. Piece by piece, I uncover what is hidden beneath the coal. As I expose more and more, I realize it’s a chest. Each swing becomes harder. In my year in the mines, I’ve never heard of someone finding an item while digging. I can feel my heart racing in anticipation of what could be inside.

I give the chest another tug and it comes free. The chest is heavy. For a moment I imagine gold beyond my wildest dreams inside. I place it on the floor of the tunnel. There are runes carved on the top of it in a language I can’t read. I look behind me, making certain no one is watching. Then I flip the latch and open the lid.