Next time I opened my eyes I found myself in a new location. My mind raced, the implications of how Dr. Z.’s office just faded away and then opening my to eyes and being someplace else were too much for me to process right now.

This room was some kind of Gymnasium, or perhaps an arena? I noticed then as I glanced up that I was standing under what seemed to be a giant text prompt. The shape and size of a party banner that stretched across the arena heralded in giant letters “Character Creation”. I blinked a few times thinking that it would go away or my dream would normalize. C’mon let’s have an assembly where I realize I have no pants!... Please?

Wait, this is almost too real. Can I normally blink in a dream? Is this even a dream? It's incredibly Vivid and if I snap my fingers I can feel them press against each other. I even tried giving myself a pinch to wake myself up but no dice. Ok if this isn’t a dream then my first theory must be correct, I’m on a bad trip. Or some sort of acid flashback? Wait… Richard! That fucker must have dusted the weed! Bastard could have said something, anything before I took that hit. It’s not that I wouldn’t have smoked it, it’s just I wasn't prepared for that kind of a “good time”. I am going to nutcheck the shi-

I jumped as my introspections were interrupted by a metallic zing sound and a whoosh of air from behind me. Quickly pivoting I found myself looking at a giant glowing rectangle, a door maybe? It reminded me of some old time travel show I used to watch with Dad. We’d spend hours watching “Particle Jump” reruns on the science fiction channel every Saturday. The protagonist was often aided by a greasy little fella who appeared in much the same way.

Catching myself before my memories could turn bitter like always I returned my focus to my current situation. The door-like apparition was a reminder that I had more pressing concerns. Like what the hell is coming through that door? Or am I supposed to go through it?

My question was quickly answered as much like that old show some guy came walking through the white door like space. I expected either someone in a lab coat or Cindy Crawford. I was both surprised and disappointed to get neither, instead it was some guy with wire rims spectacles a polo shirt and slacks. At a glance the guy looked like he was late for his shift at the “Prodigy Bar” or the “Nerd Crew” at Great Deals.

We stared at each other for a moment. This new entrant seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to be joined in my hallucination by yet another figment. The staring contest of shock might have continued for a while but I broke the Silence first by asking “you wouldn't by any chance happen to actually be a block of cheese that I ate too late last night are you?” The stranger only replied with a smirk and held out his right hand as if to shake and then quickly pulled back and instead offered a friendly wave. I found this to be a little strange but I am already in the middle of one crazy trip, things don’t have to make sense I guess. “Hi!” The stranger said “Sorry about that, I wasn’t prepared for you to greet me it’s usually the other way around.” they said with a quick shrug I started to ask who this guy is supposed to be but he beat me to it “Robert right? I’m Ahmed, I’ll be assisting with your final onboarding component. Are you ready for the new you?” As I registered that this Ahmed character had actually asked a question that wasn’t rhetorical I asked “If your not cheese are you from that one time I tried smoking a bath bomb?” Ahmed gave me the strangest look for a moment, it was a lot like the look my roommates gave me when I accepted a bet to try Ecstasy as a suppository. “Shit, I knew that was going to have some long term side effects.” I muttered the last part more to myself than anything, I doubted the figment gave a damn about my apprehensions and suspicions regarding paying the piper so to speak for some of my more questionable ethneogenic experiences.

Ahmed the figment recomposed himself and just shook his head as he pulled a smart phone out of his back pocket. "Legal mentioned we've had some synchronization issues and didn't give you the full run-down." As he kept tapping at his smartphone I started to look around some more. Thing is, whenever I get anxious I get as the shrinks called it “hyper-aware”, which is degree speak for “I look around a lot and can’t focus.

The room motif was nothing nouveau chic. Other than the general shape indicating a gymnasium or something and all the stadium seating there was nothing, spartan would be generous. This place was just bare. As I looked around I realized this time the ground was obscured by a heavy fog, like there was a colony of ants nearby chain vaping.

I debated going for a walk but as I started to step away I realized I was rooted to the spot. My face started to feel warm as my heart rate rose, this didn't feel right. Already this trip was being totally not cool, but this was a sign of descent to just fucked up. I mean this has to be a trip, a hallucination, a goddamn delusion right? “This is just my fucked up imagination running away and taking me for a ride, that has to be it.” I kept telling myself as I felt my heartbeat increase until I could hear my pulse in my ears.

I felt a hand on my shoulder as I opened my eyes. Wait when did I close them? The figment er, Ahmed had apparently grabbed me. I think I was about to faint? I was barely aware of the annoying beeping sound Ahmed's phone was making or the feeling of his now sharp grip on my shoulders holding me steady. "Billy, or uh… Robert? Can you do me a favor?" Oh boy, this fella was using the EMT voice, I've been around enough junkies that got too much bang for their buck and heard that calm authoritative tone more times than I would like.

"We're doing something on our end but we need a little help. Can you help me out Robert?" I looked at Ahmed and nodded as I realized I couldn't feel my hands anymore. In their abscence I just felt a cold chill coursing through my fingertips slowly flowing up my arms. Wait, where'd my toes go? I could barely stutter a brief exclamation before I lost all sense of gravity and even with Ahmed's help I was worshiping the ground.

"Robert, we're going to have to skip most of your orientation and character customization. There is nothing to worry about, we have procedures for this kind of thing. Now Robert, we're about to manifest your consciousness inside replica of yourself in a… mostly fantasy simulation." I attempted to speak but my lips weren't working, my face was getting numb. This wasn't the cold void but something different: a sharper pins and needles effect like I sat on my face for an extended period somehow and lost blood flow. Oof, and the dizziness revenge. Well good thing I am already on the ground I suppose.

"Robert, we've given you a light sedative don't worry everything you're feeling is perfectly normal. No worries buddy, can I give you three quick tips? Robert try to pay attention, remember these three things.” I turned my gaze to Ahmed and attempted to speak but the only words that came out were “I like your beard… beard… funny word… beer-duh.” The fuck? That’s not what I was trying to say. Ahmed just ignored my declaration and continued. “Your synchronization means synaptic feedback, I was told you might not be familiar with the technology. It means if you get hurt in game you will feel real pain. Got that? Owch means owch. Two, if you die in game you can respawn this is still a simulation even if lifelike it's a simulation nonetheless." I felt my heartbeat slow to a calm crescendo rather than a 190BPM dance track as everything became a bit hazier. Ahmed must have a twin because suddenly there were two of them looking at me. I could barely hear them but I could swear they said something about "sponsor" and "15-17 age restricted mode".

As the darkness crept in once again I honestly wondered if this time I was finally going to wake up, but part of me didn't really give a damn. Suddenly this trip was pretty chill, what was I worried about before? I wouldn't mind having more dreams with this “stoney” feature. Too bad I will surely forget all of this when I wake up, it'd be a fun way to start a story.

At my next moment of clarity I found myself in some sort of cave, or cavern. I didn’t pay that much attention during natural sciences in High School. Looking around I noted the distinct absence of stalactites or stalagmites so this had to be a… Cave. Yes, a cave I’m sure of it. No, I’m not fixating on minor details to avoid comprehending the gravity of my situation, hallucination or not. I assured myself that I was in fact having an intellectual conversation with myself, over and over but the sound of a bubbling spring to my right kept interrupting my introspection.

Unable to avoid the obvious any longer I began to attempt to put some context into this dreamscape. I was sitting on a sandy dirt floor in a dark cave, ok what’s that supposed to be a symbol for? Dreams used metaphors and shit to like vocalize the subconscious or something… right? And why am I sitting in the lotus position like “Master Shard” from “Adolescent Mutant Ninja Gerbils”? I quickly stood up righting myself from this damn “hippy position”. Well quickly as I could, getting up from this state was kinda awkward. And these cotton pants I found myself in were rubbing me the wrong way. Wait, I didn’t own anything but Nickie’s dungaree’s. Why would I dream of wearing a… the fuck is this? A poncho? And these shoes reminded me of prison sandals. Great, I’m wearing itchy pants, Rob Harker shoes and a blanket with a hole in it. I guess I should find that comforting, despite the stark reality of this dream it has to be just that. It had to be a dream, I’d never wear this get-up even if I was paid to do so.

A louder trickling sound interrupted my introspection and startled me to coherence. Glancing at the spring I noticed the sound was getting slightly louder, and it looked like the waterflow might be increasing. Ok, in dream terms is this a metaphor for urination? Shit, I do have to pee now that I think about it. Without further debate I stepped toward a wall and attempted to arrange my new ensemble so that I might relieve myself without a self gifted “golden shower”. I hardly had my poncho out of the way and was beginning to “drop trowel” so to speak when I heard a gentle humming sound. I paused my attempt to prepare to empty my bladder and strained my ears to try to locate the source of this new noise. Yup, someone was humming a tune nearby. What exactly the tune was I wasn’t sure but I knew one thing. That meant people! I wasn’t alone!

I rushed toward the source of the noise, and most certainly didn’t trip over this stupid poncho and almost faceplant in the spring. I was so caught up in the excitement of finding someone, maybe a real person and getting some answers. Poncho… wait… maybe I did some Mescaline and found myself in New Mexico? That had to be it I told myself as I emerged into a well lit room occupied solely but a little old man sitting next to an engraved carving of an egyptian style eye. I didn’t even take a moment to get a better idea of my surroundings this time instead shouting excitedly “Hey! Are you the anchor?” That had to be it, usually I was responsible and only tripped with others and made sure there was one sober person amongst the group. I would occasionally get stuck being the sober person, also known as the “Anchor” but apparently this time I was amongst the few… the proud… the hallucinating. I was so excited to see another person that I didn’t even notice the words “;Patron=Null !exception” floating over the old guy’s noggin’.

At my greeting the old man just smiled and said “Welcome to your Newly Upgraded life!” At these words his smile morphed into a cheesy looking grin “Your “NULife you might say.” He broke into laughter at his own joke and I closed my eyes in disbelief and groaned. It took all the composure I had to not just open up with a volley of profanity, but I chastened myself and said: “The fudge is this? Are you trying to feed me more of these pony nugget’s?” Wait, the fuck did I just say? Pony fucking nuggets? That’s not what I meant to say at all!

«««««�»»»»»

Jeanine was sitting in her executive office suite while sorting through various requisition orders. Subconsciously, she was dreading and preparing for the next volley in her revolving door of meetings. Deeply engrossed in her work, Jeanine didn’t even notice when her office door opened. Ahmed the Jr. Lead of Development had stepped in and quietly sat across from her. Ahmed debated clearing his throat or some other sort of interjection. He had known Jeanine for years. Once they had even known each other quite intimately even. Nonetheless, despite his familiar relationship, Ahmed respected Jeanine as the current director of the NULife project. In the end his respect for her position won out over his impatience. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Jeanine happened to look over to find Ahmed patiently waiting and sitting attentively.

Jeanine looked at him for barely a glance before returning her attention to the paperwork laid out on her desk. “Ah, Mr. Khan. I trust my brother’s synchronization and induction went well?” Ahmed shrugged as he considered how to best phrase this “There have been a number of complications, but they have all been issues we had contingencies in place for. Although I had a talk with the guys over in wetware, and there is one notable concern.”

Without looking up from her paperwork, Jeanine just waved her hands as if to gesture “out with it already”. Ahmed attempted to put this diplomatically, but as he failed to find the words, he went with the direct approach. “The tech’s in the Wet-Ware sector are concerned. Billy, er, Robert… um… Mr. Edwards seems to be actively denying reality. He’s repeatedly stating this all must be a dream, or that he’s high on hallucinogenics.” Jeanine nodded, she knew her brother had a way of denying the existence of the facts. Especially when said facts made him uncomfortable or were generally inconvenient.

Ahmed continued, “the problem is, it’s causing an extreme level of latency with the neural link. If he either doesn’t grow into his avatar and quickly progress, or accept that his new reality is in VR, he might reject the connection.” This finally seemed to garner Jeanine’s undivided attention. In a much gentler voice she asked, “Mr. Khan… what are you saying?” Sensing that this was one of the few times at the office he could approach her as a friend Ahmed replied in soft tone mirroring Jeanine “Jeannie, there’s a chance he could reject the neural link, like an organ transfer. You know we’ve never done this with a… Well he was practically a coma patient. I mean…” Ahmed could barely see perspiration gather around Jeanine’s eyes. She always kept herself so composed at that desk. The fact she was almost crying made Ahmed want to reach out to embrace her. But the door was closed on that idea, and he knew it.

“Jeannie… If he rejects the link, we have no idea what will happen. There is a chance that he’ll just go back to being semi-comatose. Or… well, this is just a rumor from the wetware tech’s and it’s not confirmed but-” “Fucking out with it Ahmie!” Aw shit, there’s the old fireball herself. He couldn’t mince words anymore and said outright, “Theres a chance that with his condition, if he rejects the connection with the neural link there may be consequences. Essentially his brain may not be able to control his unconscious functions any longer. Essentially he could regress into a truly comatose state.” Jeanine just stared blankly for a few moments. Ahmed was unsure what to say so he just didn’t say anything and waited for Jeanine to process his statement. Jeanine sighed and turned her chair around to dry her eyes in a moment of faux privacy.

Jeanine sniffled and muttered, “this is supposed to be streak free mascara… liars.” They both laughed in a vain attempt to diffuse the tension in the room. “You especially know that I have a… complicated relationship with my brother. But if I didn’t do everything, I could to help him. Honestly, I couldn’t live with myself.” Jeanine sniffed again as he attempted to regain her steely composition. In a clear voice with more authority she said, “Mr. Khan, I asked you to activate the age restricted mode for pain delineation. I know after the authorities and our own moderators declared the game as 21+ the mode was scrapped, but I do need to thank you. As a caring sister, I appreciate you were able to enable the function despite it being flagged to be removed on the next major patch.”

Ahmed nodded, as did his best not to convey his suspicions. Jeanine was about to ask for another favor, wasn’t she? “That being said Mr. Khan, since my brother wasn’t even able to get an AI patron that was created after the Turing act, he will need someone competent to assist him.” Ahmed attempted to offer a few potential guides that could help but Jeanine spoke first. “For obvious reasons I want him to get a level 3 agent as a patron, not just an AI.” Ahmed’s shoulders slumped, as his expression took a notable turn from condolence to annoyance. “Level 3? You know all the level 3’s are busy adding functions for the new patrons from the ‘Lands of Mist and Murder’ DLC. Who am I supposed to pull for a special project?” Ahmed asked this question almost rhetorically. He suspected the answer already.

Jeanine didn’t even have the decency to have any expression other than her deadpan “I’m the boss now” face as she said “I see a leader in our development staff has enough time to loiter around my office, and I don’t mean now. Mr. Khan, time is money. If I was too busy for you, I’d tell you to wait. Instead you waited, not seizing a moment to try to get my attention is unacceptable.” “Jeannie, don’t give me this carrot or stick stuff today, please? I’m already doing you a favor. If the old man knew I was violating the garden wall protocol, I’d-” Jeanine held up a hand to stop Ahmed from continuing before saying “Let me worry about the boss. You have other concerns, namely making sure this project I spent years proposing doesn’t go tits up, and for that matter that my junkie idiot of a brother doesn’t either.” Ahmed sighed and stood up. He knew that any argument or advice at this point would fall on deaf ears. She always got like this. Her attitude of “better forgiveness than permission” was a big part of why they had broken up. “Whatever you say, I guess I need to request overtime so I can hop in a pod.” “Mr. Khan, your a salaried employee now remember?.” Ahmed’s deeply tan skin started to turn slightly pale as he remembered his promotion contract had a clause about additional duties “as requested.” He asked himself, “Shit, did I go from a full stack developer to a babysitter?”