“Choose my character?” I repeated, glancing around an endless expanse of white space. “How? And with what exactly?”

  I couldn’t fathom my current state. Not to say that my disembodied consciousness, floating in nothingness, was not interesting. It was. Absolutely surreal. The game exceeded my expectations so far. Virtual reality always attempted to be authentically real. But anyone playing could tell it was augmented, emulating but failing to be believably realistic. Something would feel off.

  However, unlike any other choppy VR experience I’ve encountered, I felt… entirely here. Like I was physically transported, body and soul.

  Yet, that couldn’t be.

  Struck with awe and also confusion, I pondered to no conclusion on how I experienced weightlessness without a given shape or form. It was like I was a piece of the nothingness that somehow awoke and was now aware of the void. But I clearly remember attaching the VR disk-thingy and appearing here. Maybe the sensations are being downloaded into my mind? Was I connected elsewhere? Or spiritually pulled here?

  I didn’t know, but I was intrigued. A long-forgotten sensation welled up from the depths of my being. Excitement, my old friend, where have you been? If I had a face, I’d be cracking a grin from ear to ear. This was interesting. I got my hopes up. The game lived up to its promise of a completely new sense of immersion.

  But floating got old real fast. I was ready to play.

  “Hello? Hey, how do I make my character?”

  Dropping vertically from high above, something zoomed to a floating halt directly in front of me. Shocked, I could not utter a word. I needed a moment to process what I saw.

  Surely, I must be misunderstanding something… I asked about creating my character…

  If I had a face, it would be contorting with many emotions. Something was already creepy about the endless expanse of nothingness.

  The heck was wrong with the character selection process? Was this a joke?

  If it was, it was not funny. If this was the character creation process, then it was not just different but straight-up odd. Messed up even.

  I watched what I could only describe as a glimpse of a movie. Only one person was in focus. I couldn’t see much of the surroundings, only part of the frayed bedding the guy lay upon. The sheets were of a washed-out brown, made for practical long-term use and not for comfort. However, the young man… He lay tucked there, looking cold and stiff, completely lifeless. His chest remained unmoving.

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  Although the surrounding area was not shown, I heard everything around him. Many people were around, but the voice of a woman would forever haunt me.

  I watched as a rough hand that knew hard labor gripped hard onto the arm of the young man lying in the bed. She rocked back and forth, utterly distraught, coming in and out of the visible area I could see. The sleeves of her olive-green tunic were soaked with tears. But her grieving voice… My heart tightened.

  Someone gently touched her left shoulder, and immediately, she slapped them away. The sorrowful woman continued, refusing to let go of the young man’s arm. She said something over and over, but I couldn’t understand the language. But I understood the wailing from the depths of a shattered heart. The choked voices from the others told me enough. Uncontrollable weeping. Heart-wrenching, mournful wailing of a mother who lost her child. The man I watched was dead.

  What is this? Some kind of cruel joke?

  Drenched black hair stuck to the young man’s sunken face. The neckline of the man’s coarse, beige shirt was stained dark, likely from accumulated sweat. His skin lost all color, pale and sickly. The fellow likely fought a disease that he unfortunately lost.

  But strange was the red countdown I saw hovering above the man. Less than three minutes remained.

  “What’s the timer for?”

  Finally, the voice from earlier answered me.

  “Welcome, Player, to the Hall of Beginnings and Ends. This archive records all deaths of in-world Artificial Intelligence agents. After their deaths, all agents will be wiped clean before randomly re-initiated and assigned to a new aspect of Fateful World. However, as Players, you are granted the opportunity to take over characters whose inhabiting AI have recently parted. The displayed countdown shows the remaining time Players can select the character as their in-game avatar. If not selected within the allocated time frame, the character will be officially recorded as permanently non-active.”

  I had many questions.

  “First, who are you? A game master? And wasn’t the game advertising that we can do whatever we want in the game? Can’t I choose to be anyone I want?”

  “Correction: Although not a GM, my designation as System allows for larger responsibilities and a greater range of freedom compared to other AIs operating in Fateful World. Complete freedom is granted to Players. However, established protocols must first be rewritten, which can only be done through gameplay. Currently, established System Protocol 20a states that Player avatars cannot be created from nothing. Protocol 20b states that all living and/or artificially living entities in Fateful World are entitled to existence without forced possession from Players. Protocol 20c limits available characters to those under level fifteen.”

  “...Meaning that for now, we can only select weak, dead people? Wouldn’t that mean we would be playing as zombies?”

  “Incorrect. Deceased characters will be revived if chosen by a Player. However, the ease of gameplay after a character’s revival will depend on the circumstances of death. Therefore, it is advised to review a potential character’s story screen before selecting.”

  “Huh? Story screen? How do I see that?”