Arron’s world bled into an unending plane of white light. He couldn’t see his body. In fact, only a vague understanding of the ground existed in this unearthly place, let alone physical form.

“Umm, hello?” he called out.

“Hello, Player.” The soft female voice echoed across as a mere whisper, simultaneously emanating from everywhere and nowhere. “Welcome to your birth.”

“My birth… Seriously?” Arron asked.

This was such a joke. The irony of Bella’s best chance of being saved from her own mind with a game left a bad taste in his mouth. Arron had never been much of a gamer. All that wizard and dragon nonsense was just so… nerdy. From what he could tell, most people who played these types of games only did so because they wanted to be someone else. Someone stronger or more capable. Someone the whole world, even a fake one, could recognize as important. He could understand the allure in some cases, but when it came down to it, he was perfectly happy as himself.

This role play… thing, was going to get old.

“Correct, Player. This is the light from which all must come and where all must return. What should I call you, Player?”

“Arron. My name is Arron.”

“Nice to meet you, Arron. This is the Plane of Creation. This is where you will decide how you will live in Interius.”

“How I’ll live?” Arron rolled his eyes. “I’m here to find my wife. That’s it.”

“A noble mission. Seeking true love, fighting the forces of darkness, rescuing those in distress. Noble quests like this are common among humans, dwarves, elves, and other creatures of the light.”

Representations of various light-aligned races began appearing in front of him. Like wisps of smoke, iridescent tendrils of colored light coalesced into a tall man with shoulder length hair, a chiseled jaw, and wide powerful shoulders. Another plume of smoke solidified into a squat, powerful dwarf, followed by an elf with gentle, noble features.

“There are many races in the world of Interius, Arron. Would you like to see more? Perhaps races of fire or darkness? Beastkin or Vampyr—”

“Human is fine, thanks,” Arron snipped.

“Very well, Arron.”

The elf and dwarf transformed back into smoke, dispersing as if on a breeze. The human figure remained, looking off into an unseen distance before turning his attention solely on Arron.

“Everyone in Interius is governed by a system of points. The most basic of which are known as your STAT points. These are the foundational elements of your life. From how much you can carry, to how much people will like you. You have multiple options in allocating your beginning STAT points. You can allocate them yourself, allocate them randomly, or they can be allocated based upon your gameplay. Which would you prefer?”

“I really don’t care. Just make me like me,” Arron said.

He understood this was part of getting into the game, but seriously, how many steps did they need to put in his way? Now that he was logged in, the longer they forced him to go through nonsense in this edgeless room, the more his anxiousness to get started boiled.

“Very well, Arron. STAT points will be allocated based on early gameplay. Would you like to review the initial allocation?”

“No! Can I just log in already?”

“There are several additional factors that require your attention, Arron. Appearance, starting location, as well as the tutorial. If you like, we can allocate the remaining features as well, but that would be an uncommon route to take.”

“Do it. I didn’t sign up for this to waste time playing make believe.”

“I must warn you, once your character has been created, it cannot be changed except through the standard means of leveling, certain rare items, or unique world events.”

“Just do it already, computer! Plug me in, boot me up, kick the tires and light the fires. Let’s get this show on the road!”

“Very well, Arron.”

The human representation in front of him stepped forward, his unblinking gaze squarely on Arron. Small, little—seizures?—fired rapidly across his cheeks, eyes and forehead like isolated twitches that didn’t relax or return to their original state. The representation’s shoulders spasmed, and his biceps flexed as the shoulders widened and its height increased. Aaron watched in horror, as piece by piece, the man’s face, body, and visage was reconstructed to mimic his own. A mirror image now looked back at him, and a chill ran up his spine.

The human character representation began to walk toward him, the whole of its body breaking down into far too bright motes of light, until his eyes were the only thing Arron could see. And there, the not-Arron paused, and a long awkward moment of staring into not really his own, eyes followed.

The man turned around. To Arron’s surprise, its head became translucent, allowing Arron to look through the ghostly form of its skull. Arron wanted to squirm when the face drifted closer, fitting over his like a mask. The voice remained silent while he floated in this white-washed void, his nerves raw from the intrusion of his personal space.

Arron started to wonder if he broke it somehow. He seriously hoped that couldn’t happen. Bella needed him, he didn’t have time to be trapped in an unchanging tomb, unable to even blink and save himself the headache of this increasingly outlandish—

The endless expanse of the void collapsed into him so fast the remaining wisps stretched into tight streaks. He screamed, pulled at such a fast rate, his inner lizard brain began freaking out.

“Allocation complete,” the computers soft voice whispered, and the streaks grew in size until only that dazzling white remained. “Welcome, Arron, to the world of Interius.”