Shane Carther had spent nearly four years developing a brand-new, open-world, online role-playing game. The kind of game he dreamt of playing since he started the hobby in the late 90s. The sort of game he desired to develop while attending university for game development and design in the late 2000s.

He was lucky enough to be a part of a team of developers who shared his passion and skill but was also blessed to be developing for a well-known and well-loved gaming publisher. The kind of publisher whose select few teams of game-makers pumped out genre-defining classics for the latter half of the console generations.

As a part of the team, the benefits were abundant, and the pay was more than respectable, he thought to himself with a satisfied grin.

Four years ago, Shane Carther began dedicating everything to the Endless Veil project, which he felt was his career's magnum opus. He worked as one of the system designers for the game. His primary task was developing machine-learning systems using artificial intelligence to reward players in a game world that was static in places and infinitely procedural in others.

In elementary school, he discovered his love for gaming. Later, In high school, he developed an infatuation with AI and machine learning. He would spend months learning tutorials and taking free classes on the subject. Time passed, and he was accepted into a fairly prestigious university. What got him in was a successful design project that showed he had augmented a home intelligent security system with AI and machine learning to learn the home residents' patterns using visual and audio data. That data would then help predict verbal and physical abuse with astonishing accuracy. This impressed the right people.

His interest in AI and machine learning temporarily waned as his passion for game development took center stage. So, while working towards his bachelor's degree in game design, Shane found the inspiration to create a prototype of a machine-learning AI director built upon what he learned from the augmented security system. A prototype that would eventually be honed and refined into what was powering Endless Veil.

It's important to note that with any sizeable modern video game, there are usually dozens, if not hundreds, of people working together on their own little piece of it. Towards the end of development, those pieces come together and are usually polished to a golden shine. This includes pouring through code to fix many bugs and ensuring everything works with everything else the way it was designed.

The deadline for Endless Veil's launch was coming up fast, in fact, it was already here, and everyone at the studio worked around the clock to get it ready. Shane had his work cut out with more than a handful of coding challenges. Luckily they were simple oversights missed by the small team of game-testers they hired. Hence his current good mood.

The launch was set to go live in retail and online in just a few short hours. Shane was strolling home, mocha-flavored coffee in hand while watching the sunset behind the city's taller buildings.

"What a beautiful evening," he said out loud cheerfully.

Shane immensely enjoyed his walks to and from work, it helped him stay mostly fit, and he could avoid spending money on a car, insurance, and gas. Given that his apartment was near the city's center, he could get whatever he needed delivered most of the time.

Now that Endless Veil was finally releasing, he expected a very healthy bonus, especially if the public loved it as much as the team's internal testers did. He smiled, anticipating the enjoyment of a future where their game did well.

After the game's launch, Shane decided he would start dating again and drive said dates in an excellent, new, used vehicle of his choosing. He would easily be able to afford it, and besides, with only a few scant dates in the past four years, he was getting increasingly lonely. Sure he had his family, whom he'd visit on holidays across the state, his group of online friends, and a few work associates—but none of it could fill that particular girlfriend-shaped hole aching in his chest.

Shane spent the rest of his walk home thinking about which class he would pick when starting Endless Veil. He whistled one of the game's boss's soundtracks as he considered. The game's setting was high fantasy medieval, with all the swordplay and magic you would expect from that genre and then some.

He chuckled to himself. He knew it was so much more because once you picked your starting class, your character's growth was tied directly to your actions in the game. Even thinking of your character's development in those terms was overly simplified, and he was excited to dive in officially. To experience the depth that lay deep below the surface.

The sun had set now; bathing the road he walked on in the sky's colors of eerie twilight. The scene reminded him of early concept art for the assets that powered Endless Veil's world, further increasing his excitement. A few minutes later, he arrived at his apartment complex and nearly sprinted up the stairs to his 3rd story one bedroom-one bath apartment.

Many of his colleagues had decided to stay at the studio to enjoy the launch together as a development team, and to also work on a hotfix or two should the game need it upon launch. Shane was invited by more than a few of his equally excited coworkers—he politely turned each one of them down. While he enjoyed working with the talented team over at Infinite Studios, once his shift was over, he was compelled to decompress. To his coworker's collective shock, Shane felt the repeated compulsion to spend the evening at home—just like Endless Veil's players would be—for the launch itself.

Shane stepped inside, taking in the small space's familiar evening darkness. He always chastised himself for not leaving some light on for his usually late arrivals home. Some of those he worked beside would arrive at 7 am and leave before 5 or 6 pm to have dinner with their families. Shane was not one of these people, as his nightly hobbies kept him up late enough to warrant sleeping in until almost noon. By the time he got home, it was almost always later than 9 pm, and thus his habits of staying up late were cemented.

The slightly cracked screen on his smartphone told him that Endless Veil was launching in less than an hour. Putting aside his habitual sleeping hangups, he closed the door behind him and turned on some ambient lighting to set the mood for a night of gaming. This was a common practice, and he took a quick shower to get the feeling of work off his skin.

He poured over the game launch window watching the installation percentage tick up one percent at a time. This was the first time he felt so excited to play a new game, likely from him having a hand in its creation on a fundamental level. It was a profound feeling, like a deluge of raw emotion encapsulating his hope and insecurity.

Installation was almost done, and he wanted to be there right from the beginning. With only a few minutes to spare, he grabbed some barbeque pork rinds, arguably his favorite snack, and sat down.

This was it. This was the moment the past almost half-decade had led up to. Shane knew it wasn't going to be a perfect launch. He could not recall the last time a major online game launched without server errors or severe code bugs. Regardless of that fact, he was confident in the team's ability to have a launch that was at least respectable.

Shane moused over the start button, grabbed a handful of pork rinds, and clicked it as he sated himself on the tangy and puffy chips. The intro video cutscene to Endless Veil started playing, and he was immediately absorbed. So much so that it took him a few seconds to realize he was physically choking.

The realization sent a wave of fear and adrenaline through his body, causing him to sit up and lean forward immediately. Eyes bulging, Shane choked violently, trying to dislodge the offending pork rind from his airway. He reached to his right to grab a drink in hopes it would help but realized with dismay he had forgotten to grab a can of soda from the fridge.

I'll get a drink quickly, he rapidly thought and went to stand up. As he pushed himself up, the piece of food in his throat somehow found its way deeper into his windpipe, causing him to bend forward violently.

This involuntary action caused Shane to slam his head on the edge of his desk, flooding his eyes with tears and making his legs fold on themselves. He couldn't stand any longer and flopped back into his chair, the drink he needed still two rooms away.

The light from the screen showing Endless Veil's main menu lit the back of his head as he sat there hunched over, crying, choking, and clawing his throat with one hand. Dread slowly crept in as he realized he hadn't taken in any air for over a minute. He very briefly looked up towards his monitor where the game he spent years helping to make was waiting for him.

The view of his monitor began to grow dark around the edges of his vision. That's not good! He thought but wanted to scream. He tried to shout a string of expletives, but no air passed his lips.

Shane hunched over again, this time harder, in a last-ditch attempt to unblock his airways, but nothing came loose, and his dread turned into despair. Wanting to think of anything else, memories of his life flashed before his eyes. He saw his early childhood as a single child full of love, family, and wonder, his schoolboy years where his parent's fighting left him feeling broken and alone. High school came next, where home life was spent alternating between divorced parents.

Then there were flashes of his time in college, a place of freedom and change. He wasn't tied down by a dysfunctional familial relationship in this new home. He obtained his bachelor's in game design, gained experience, and eventually landed his dream job as a developer for a company he had always respected. He could essentially be himself by himself. He learned, pursued passions, and worked hard to pay for what the scholarships couldn't—but that loneliness prevailed.

My social anxiety really got in the way of things, didn't it? He thought almost calmly, referring to the opportunities and relationships he ignored out of discomfort.

He had a vague sense that his consciousness wouldn't last much longer. As if to confirm this, his computer appeared to him as if it were at the end of a long, dark tunnel a mile away. His once panicked and racing thoughts slowed to a crawl—muddled and calmer.

Wow, I'm actually dying, he mused as the vision of his room faded to black.

Shane sluggishly felt his body fall forward off his reclining chair. He anticipated a thud from where his body would eventually be splayed out underneath his desk, but the impact never came. He felt himself falling much farther than what should have been just a half-second tumble to the floor.

His mind began to clear and rearrange. The simple memories he struggled to grasp came to him sharp and fast. After some time, he noticed he was falling through what felt like endless space. A realization sparked dread through him; he was falling faster.

There wasn't any wind resistance, yet something was clearly pulling him. Shane had always been sensitive to g-forces on his body. It was the main reason he wanted to ride rollercoasters but couldn't without getting sick. The feeling of panic sparked again when he couldn't open his eyes or move his limbs.

Calm down, man. Your arms and legs are definitely still there, and so is the rest of you, he thought. He tried to rationalize what was happening.

Maybe my brain is processing its last sensations the same way it makes my dreams feel faster? No, that can't be it. My last few seconds of life wouldn't surely take THIS long, he reasoned as it felt like several minutes had passed.

I don't want to die, but maybe I won't have to since I'm still falling? He shuddered, Unless I'm falling towards hell. Shane had been raised Christian but remembered what it felt like for his faith to diminish at the same rate as he physically grew and dismissed the whole idea.

Okay, that's it, when I stop falling, I'm going to give whatever's pulling me a piece of my m—, he couldn't get the thought out before he realized the falling had stopped.

Not only had the falling stopped, but his physical orientation had changed too. Even with his eyes closed, Shane could tell he was lying on his back...on something soft. It was comfortable in a familiar way and was shocked to find he had to fight the urge to fall asleep.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to find himself tucked into a small bed nestled in the corner of a cozy but familiar room. "What the hell?!" he croaked, his voice feeling strained.

Wide-eyed, Shane sat up and looked at his trembling hands, unbelieving. He had just died, right? He felt himself leave the freaking mortal coil, for god sake! He lowered his hands and felt the simple wooden bed's soft, white cloth sheets while noticing the walls were made of lumber with the logs interlaced at the corner of each wall.

“Okay, the familiarity of this room is concerning,” he said, trying to focus.

The small log cabin was relatively well lit, with a contemporary window showering the room with warm daylight, the rays cutting through the dusty interior. There was a small, roaring fireplace opposite the window and a plain wooden door on the adjacent wall. One thing immediately caught Shane's attention above all else, a rusty iron sword with a brass hilt and pommel hanging above the fireplace.

Shane’s face went pale as his stomach twisted, his wide eyes studying the object enthusiastically.

“Holy shit, this wasn't one of the options on my 'afterlife bingo card'.”

Moments later, a light-blue semi-opaque screen materialized in front of his vision. He read the four glowing words in the middle of the screen.

Welcome To Endless Veil