The lid of my TVR pod slides open with a soft hiss. Blinking back to consciousness, I let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the dull grey walls of my games room. Shakily, I pull myself from the capsule. Everything seemed so dull now. Even the posters and objects that littered the room seemed muted compared to the colours I saw in game. On top of that, I feel so incredibly weak. My vision, my muscles, everything seemed inferior compared to the abilities of my avatar.

Pulling up a hologram, I check the time. It looks like I only spent about four hours in game, but I already feel mentally and physically exhausted. Dragging myself to the kitchen, I order up another coffee and collapse into the couch. Pushing the dirty mugs from this morning to the side, I rest my feet on the coffee table and lean back into the cushy pillows.

Sipping the warm drink, I reflect on the events of today. The technology behind True VR is astonishing. It's far beyond anything humans have ever accomplished. Everything in game was exactly as it would be in real life, or at least as I imagine it to be. After all, I don't exactly know what oceans and trees are supposed to be like.

But then while amazing, I'm not sure how good the realism really is, at least from a gameplay standpoint. I mean- that felt like real pain. What would it feel like if somebody lost a limb, or got cut in half or something? I shudder at the thought. People typically play games to have fun, not to suffer.

At the same time though, the potential of taking catastrophic risks and winning against all odds has some sort of forbidden alluring feeling about it. The thrill and adrenaline while fighting is something I can see many people getting addicted to. Including myself.

And what about my race choice? I think back to the white space of character creation, was it really the right decision? So far it doesn't seem too bad, I mean, I haven't died yet. But I was pretty lucky with my first real enemy, if the lizard used actual damaging magic I'm not sure I would have won. The Sprite rooms were terrifying, but I shouldn't have to ever pass through them again.

What really scared me about my experience in the game so far though was whatever happened before I loaded into the game proper. I try and cast my mind back to that moment. To when the space outside of my TVR capsule wasn't my home, but an unfamiliar white place.

Was I still in the game then? If that's the case, it could've been a bug or glitch, but why would the Erta have even programmed that area in? It doesn't fit anything about the game I've seen, plus the fact that I was in a TVR pod makes it kinda hard to believe. From what I understand, they're trying really hard to make the game immersive. So whatever it was, I really don’t think I was supposed to see it.

Alright, let's assume that it was all real. If that's the case, where was I? How did I even get there? It's not like they moved me while I was in game, I'm home now and I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary in my apartment.

I sigh and rub my head. Let's not focus on that. There's nothing I know that could give me any answers. Instead, I try to remember the conversation I heard.

They mentioned something about growing units, twenty of them. Were those some sort of plants or something? But then they also mentioned the twenty first, and to send ‘him’ back. Could they have been referring to me? If that's the case, those units aren’t plants…

Doing nothing but raising more questions, I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. One thing's for sure, the only way I can get answers is to keep playing.

Suddenly a hologram pops up and bleeps, interrupting my next thought. I quickly scan over the message.

Hey! Damian and I are meeting at the usual spot in about an hour, wanna join us? Bring your notes on the new game, we’re thinking of getting the guild back together!! Order of Atrophy, ASSEMBLE!!

- Jack

Chuckling at Jack’s antics, I quickly shoot a message back. It would probably be good for me to go, take my mind off things, maybe get their opinions on my situation.

Gathering my things, I quickly change into something a little more presentable, I'm still in my pyjamas after all. I send a command through my holograms to turn off the lights, and step out of my front door.

---

An annoyingly long shuttle ride later and I'm standing in the bustling entertainment centre of the station. Bright lights flash in my eyes as I push through the crowd to my destination.

Glowing storefronts line the streets, beckoning customers in to buy any and all of their products and services. Holograms with a huge assortment of advertisements hover just above the street, displaying everything from cleaning bots to the newest lab-made candies. Their bright colours and flashing images are easy to ignore though, as most eye catching things around are the people.

Each person is adorned with unique augmentations and customizations. I see glowing eyes, hair and fabrics, strange combinations of shapes and colours, and hairstyles I never thought possible.

The woman in front of me stands nearly seven feet in height. She sways side to side as she struts forwards on her giant stilts. Her high stacked hair wobbling precariously atop her head, only serving to add another foot to her stature.

A man pushes past me, a hurried businessman desperate for some relief after a long days work. Although he’s dressed in professional attire, I catch a glimpse of dully lit nano tattoos which spread across his face as if mapping his veins. They pulse to the beat of his heart as he rushes onwards.

I continue wading through the crowd, trying my best not to get in the way of the more crazy fashions. After ducking for a man with large robotic wings and giving a wide berth to a woman with jets of flame for shoulders, I finally spot our meeting place.

Arriving at my target, I smile up at the worn, beaten sign of Ye Old Arcade. Significantly less flashy and smaller than the buildings around it, this hidden gem of a store is where I spent most of my school-day weekends.

The old fashioned push door jingles as I enter into the familiar space beyond. Behind a small bar and small sitting area off to the back left of the store, a lightly augmented man raises his hand in greeting. Giving him a wave back, I scan the room for my friends. Most of the area is stuffed full of antique pre catastrophe games and consoles, in front of which a few strangers linger in the corners, absorbed into their own games. The space is silent but for the quiet music of games, and of course the shrill bird like laughter of a familiar blond form.

Approaching the table where Jack and Damion are seated, I call out in greeting. “Hey guys! What's so funny?”

Jack spins around, his spiked, platinum blond hair bouncing as he throws his arms up in excitement.“Brian! It's been forever man!” His glowing green eyes spark with electricity as he jumps up and shoves a drink in my hand, leading me to the table. He stands a head shorter than me, but jitters with such an energy that it hardly seems to matter. His clothes are flashy and bright, matching his demeanour perfectly.

Walking to our seats, he continues, “I haven't seen you since you since you moved out! How's the new place?”

I grin back at him, “Good, much bigger than that dingy apartment. The old place is still a wreck, I assume?”

“You know it!”

Sitting down at our seats, I give a nod of greeting towards Damion, who sits leaning back in his chair. His muscular dark olive arms are crossed sternly across his chest, and his brow is furrowed in his usual glare.

“So what were you guys talking about?” With how much Jack was laughing, I’m honestly really curious.

“Just discussing the new TVR game. Wanna know what race Damion chose?”

“Let me guess, the cutest looking one available?”

“That's the one!” Jack bursts out into another fit of laughter as Damion runs a hand through his shortly cropped black hair, trying but failing to hide an embarrassed smile.

Despite his intimidating appearance, if you hang out with Damion for any length of time, you quickly learn that he's actually very gentle. The blue eyed giant in question leans forward and speaks up.

“They’re called the Mira. They live in small communities in the rainforest and they have really powerful digitigrade legs that let them jump really high.”

“And they’re fluffy with big fox ears and tails!” Jack interjects, still giggling. Damion shoots him a quick glare as he continues.

“I bonded with a light Sprite, which means I'll be our designated healer again. A good thing too, cause this guy,” he raps Jack on the head “is too hot headed to do anything but fight.”

“Hey!” Jack exclaims, rubbing where Damion hit. “It's not my fault the game decided to bond me with a lightning Sprite. I'm just too naturally talented to waste my abilities healing.”

“More like too absent-minded. Healing actually takes concentration and effort, unlike charging recklessly into battle.” Damian retorts, crossing his arms once more.

“Well I-“

“C’mon guys.” I interrupt their banter. “Let’s save the fighting for the monsters. Jack, what race did you pick?”

He briefly sticks his tongue out at Damion before turning to face me, his usual grin back in place. “I chose a Lacertilian. They’re like lizard people with cool swords and armour and stuff. The city I spawned in is huge!” He waves his arms around as if it would give me some sense of scale.

“Anyways, what did you pick?” Damion questions, ignoring Jack.

Scratching the back of my head, I let out a small guilty chuckle. “You see, I've been meaning to tell you guys. I don't know if we can do the guild thing this time.”

“Aww, what!?”

“What did you do, Brian?” Damion sighs.

“I sort of found a secret race, the Thorn Fiends.”

“No way!” Jack slams his hands down on the table. “You always find the secrets!”

Damion shushes Jack. “How exactly does this prevent you from joining the guild?”

“Thorn Fiends aren't exactly liked by other races. I'm not allowed into any cities and from what it sounds like I’m basically kill on sight. Plus I don't get a Sprite.”

“Why did you even choose them then?” Damion furrows his brows.

“Uh-” I falter “I'm not entirely sure. Since it was kinda hidden away, I assumed that it would have some sort of hidden benefits.”

“Does it!?” Jack interrupts, leaning forward on the edge of his seat.

“Sort of? I don't think I've figured out everything yet, but so far I have increased physical resistances and a cool ability that helps me with combat. It completely eliminates the need to go through training.”

Jack groans. “Lucky! We’re not even allowed to exit our cities without finishing the basic training. And let me tell you, my teacher is cruel.” He winces at some surfacing memory.

“Do you know why they're hated so much?” Damion pipes up.

“Not really. Their description said something about being hated and feared cause they once terrorized the wasteland, but I don't really know.”

“Hmm.” He frowns.

“Oh!” Jack slams his hands down on the table again, nearly knocking his drink over. “Have you heard the rumours that the Erta actually have their race as one of the playable ones in game? Nobody actually knows what they look like, so what if they're hiding right under our noses!?”

“You're suggesting that the Thorn Fiends are actually the Erta?”

“Then why would they be hated so much? They were the ones who made the game, wouldn't they want to be well liked?” Damion growls, leaning back once more in his chair.

“Hmm.” We let out a collective sigh, trying to think of any reason for their strange actions.

I swirl my untouched drink, debating whether I should bring up the weird place I saw while loading. Although logically it would be best if I let them know, something in my gut kept telling me it was a bad idea. And I did say earlier I should trust my gut more…

Deciding to keep quiet, I take a sip of my still unidentified drink. Cola. Jack knows me well.

“Well!” The blond ball of energy suddenly claps his hands together. “No sense theorizing over things we’ll never know the answers to! How about we play some games, we’re in an arcade after all!”

Damion nods, guzzling his drink and standing up from his chair. “In that case, I vote we play Skull Girls.”

“No way! If we’re going to play a pc game, it's gotta be Killing Floor!” Jack pipes up, following Damion to where the old computers are set up.

“Well if I get to pick, I'd say we play Civilization.”

“Definitely no.”

“That one’s no fun. You always win!”

“You guys don't try hard enough. You just need more practice!”

“Sure! And you need to stop playing without us around.”

“But then I'd lose my unfair advantage!” I mock horror, sparking a new round of laughter among our group as we take our places in front of our usual pcs. Eventually we settle on a game, and spend the rest of the day playing and sharing stories, old and new.