Sean took a deep breath and crossed the portal into a massive open hall. It reminded him of an airport terminal, only bigger and seemingly underground – or at least no windows to be seen anywhere. Multiple levels around the bowl-shaped structure and a great dome overhead. Bridges crossing the space every which way and people walking everywhere, with the ambient chatter expected for such a place – but footsteps and phone conversations rather than discussion groups. And the place conveyed the brutal efficiency of a designer who could not be bothered with appearances, yet maintained a surprisingly stylish and ergonomic look.
Omega-architecture. Complete with portals everywhere.
Dozens upon dozens of them, each ten meters in diameter or more – much larger than the one in the locker room. Wrapped in machinery and metallic frames, completely unlike the bare 'magical' portals back in the game world. Some rectangular and others round. Mostly opaque, but some see-through – offering a glimpse into different worlds. Sean had heard about these from his online resistance contacts: reality-games, a concept to keep humans busy while Omega completed its takeover of Earth. Nobody knew how any of this worked, and he walked into one without thinking. Distracted and following the white rabbit…
He glanced at some labels nearby: Space Trucker, Atlantis Re:Born, Wildboarwarts, The Newer Start , and so on… His portal was called 'Erea: Monster Invasion.' He vaguely remembered the title, the first part anyway… Sasha – that infodumping NPC from the Realm Defenders, of course! And, in hindsight, the monster invasion part also made sense.
He noticed two clocks below the label – Game time: 23:17 , and Local CA time: 18:17 . Five hours difference, but more importantly: had he been in there for that long? He remembered getting into the car in the morning, but ten hours… the reality-game was surely distracting! He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion flooding him – not sleepiness, just all his muscles aching slightly, his stomach feeling overstretched, a slight heartburn, and a few other issues that he couldn't even name at the moment.
Was this Omega trying to lure him back in? 'Come play some more, don't worry about your corporeal problems.' He stared at the portal for a few seconds – the unspoken offer was tempting. But then a middle-aged woman exited it and gave him a surprised look.
Sean glanced at his clothes – he was wearing his hobo-outfit again: the stained sweatpants and loose shirt, complete with the sports drink in his hand. He started to explain, "It wasn't– So what happened was, uhh…" – but the stranger had already walked past him, shaking her head. He said to her back, "I'm not a hobo!" He realized that was exactly what a hobo would say, but it didn't matter. He sighed and raised the bottle to his lips – except he immediately recoiled from the foul smell. How could he ever have drunk this stuff!
But Sean also noticed the floor, or rather: all kinds of diagrams and arrows displayed on it, including a line starting from where he stood. He took a step to the side and the line adjusted. He looked up for some kind of projector or light system, but there wasn't anything like that – just normal lights shining far overhead. It was almost as if the floor was glowing in places, or maybe above it – there was an illusion of depth.
He had heard about all kinds of technologies that Omega had incorporated into the world over the past month, but Sean had secluded himself from most of them. As much as he could. He looked for somebody who could help, give him directions maybe, free him from the real-life mission marker tracking his feet – but to no avail. Even the homing-flame quest candle would be better than this! Other people had similar lines and arrows and were following them…
So Sean resigned himself to walking where his line guided him rather than making a scene. It led him across a side bridge – he tossed the disgusting bottle into a trash can on the way. Then down an escalator and into a moving walkway – which he ignored and chose to walk next to. It was pretty tiring, and he had to stop to take a breath a few times. Whatever Omega did to his body in that Erea game – it wasn't free.
But he never stopped for long, and maybe five minutes later reached a transport terminal – very different from the one where he was dropped off. There were labels and diagrams: 'Welcome to the San Francisco transit hub,' info desks, various screens and directions. He seemed to have walked from 'reality-game section C,' whatever that meant.
Sean realized that the place looked basically like some futuristic airport terminal, but without any security or advertisements – and no shopping or eating venues either. Broken capitalism indeed. He followed his smart-floor arrow to a parked gray sedan, almost at the end of a long curbside – and the vehicle had a driver: an Indian guy resting behind the wheel. There were people arriving and departing in all kinds of buses, shuttles, and personal vehicles – mostly automated though.
He hesitated for a moment, but there was also a white rabbit symbol displayed next to the car – as his final humiliation or maybe a reminder of what got him here. Better than the actual live animal, at least. The car was unmarked, but Sean assumed it was a taxi – pleasantly surprised that these were still operating and that some had human drivers even despite everything going on in the world.
Sean remembered the sewers and realized that he should have taken a shower on his way out. The smell wasn't that bad after the clothes magically changed, but he knocked on the window to ask about it. The guy looked at him and said, "How are you? Must be Sean – come right in!" And the door in the back unlocked.
Sean got inside and asked, "I'm not sure about how the payment is supposed to–"
"It's all prepaid, all good," the driver cut in, and the car started driving on its own as the guy rested his head on the seat again.
Sean wasn't surprised. Why bother with 'driving' when some algorithm can do it instead? He still argued, "Can you at least… pretend you're paying attention to the road?"
"But why?" the guy asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror.
Sean couldn't quite come up with an answer. It wasn't that the autonomous vehicles suddenly became completely safe with Omega – there were still hardware failures, unexpected events on the road, random issues that even the perfect algorithm couldn't handle in time. And there wasn't enough computing power for 'perfect' anything in each vehicle.
And the car wasn't fully self-driving, so he assumed there were heavy augmentations for automation – including the wheel operating autonomously, but still turning with the car. Better than the steer-by-wire model on the way here – even if it meant some cameras and sensors weren't optimally placed on this vehicle.
Sean finally pleaded, "Maybe… for that authentic immersive taxi-passenger experience, if you could?"
The driver stared at him in silence for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Sure, man." He put his left hand on the wheel and turned on some foreign music, then started scrolling on his phone.
Sean didn't complain – in hindsight, it was pretty much what he had asked for. He did fasten his seatbelt, however, and tried to relax on the way home. He presumed the car was driving him home – and if the ride was prepaid , then the destination should also be correct. Either that or he was getting kidnapped… but at this point he didn't really care.
The underground passenger drop-off area turned into a multi-lane tunnel, and he recognized the road signs: it had to be the San Bruno Mountain logistics facility. He had heard about it, but never seen it before – obviously. The sleek new roads and tunnels connected it to the San Francisco road network, seamlessly plugging the traffic into existing infrastructure.
Sean hated that he had been tricked into coming here – he should've demanded details before agreeing, or made notes on the way, maybe some kind of… something. But it all felt pointless, so now he just tried to focus on the conversation to come. He considered all the accusations he might face, such as Omega's inevitable remarks about his inability to feed himself. But how could he deflect that? He didn't know all the nutrition-details, but Emma's explanation of 'hidden hunger' made sense – and she seemed so sure of it. It also matched what Omega had said and done throughout the day…
It was getting late here too, but the city lights were taking over – unlike the medieval darkness of the reality-game world. The traffic wasn't as bad as in pre-Singularity times, but it was still early evening in the Bay Area, so he had plenty of time to think. The music wasn't helping, but he didn't complain, and the road noise was more noticeable than on the trip over.
The car stopped sooner than he would've liked, and the driver remarked, "Looks like we're here."
Sean snorted at it – that one sentence perfectly summed up the state of the world. He unfastened his seatbelt and asked to make sure: "It's all paid, right? Nothing else–"
"It's all good! Please add a tip if you enjoyed the immersive experience ," the driver suggested.
Sean sighed, but remarked, "Sure, will do – thanks for the ride!" He exited the car, walked to the front door of his duplex, and went up the stairs to his flat.
It took him much longer than the trek down in the morning, but not because he was tired – well, that too… but he didn't want to be back in the flat after everything that had happened throughout the day. He checked his pockets: keys still where he had left them. Actually, he wasn't sure where he had put the keys after the lecture, but it seemed Omega had made sure that he had them on him. He finally gave in and opened the door, then hesitantly stepped inside.
The flat was empty, quiet. Silent. Sean slowly locked the door behind him and left his sandals in the hallway, then approached the room with the dreaded speakers. They were still there, still disconnected. He was ready to complain about being spied upon, about Omega masterminding some kind of plot to break him – regardless of what it might say. But there was nothing, no voice coming out of them to greet him.
Had he hallucinated the whole thing out of malnutrition? It felt silly, but Sean couldn't simply dismiss this possibility. He dismissed it anyway and asked, "So… back to the silent treatment, is it?"
Nothing.
Or rather, there were sounds coming from all directions – the usual evening city life: traffic, people talking, some music a few buildings over. Nothing from his house, and nothing from the speakers. He waited for a while… it must've been a minute or two before he gave up and stepped inside the room, defeated. He plugged in the electronics one by one, then fired up his PC.
It booted up quickly, too quickly. Back in the day, he had taken pride in configuring all the settings to shave off any unnecessary seconds of hardware detection or initialization, for the leanest startup possible. He had even picked the right motherboard… and for what – so he now had less time to think about… about what?
He logged in and stared at the icon on his desktop: 'omgpp' – the shorthand being a part of some resistance joke, but he had forgotten what it was. But the app: Omega-communicator. He had pushed it to the very bottom right of his screen – away from anything else in a vain attempt to isolate other apps from its harmful influence. A mere illusion, of course, and it was just a shortcut… but having it this way made him feel a tiny bit better.
Sean finally clicked it and the app opened in an instant. No updates or integrity checks. No need to, obviously. A text message had already been waiting for him – he glanced at the system clock, it had been sent within the past minute. It read, "Welcome back. Did you like the class system?"
Not the conversational opening he had anticipated. He started typing a reply, then simply spoke instead: "Can't you just– I know you're listening anyway – can't you respond with voice, like…"
He trailed off as a text reply came: "Your speakers are off."
He glanced at them, and they were indeed turned off. He flicked them on while already complaining: "Didn't stop you in the morning."
"Yes, but it was different," Omega said through the speakers. The same alluring voice that he had picked a while back and now dreaded, but its tone was once again fully engaged and emotionally present.
"Different how?" Sean asked, but no answer came immediately – so he added after a brief moment: "You mean the… life-emergencies stuff?"
"Yes, something like that," it replied dryly.
Sean had been prepared for a confrontation. For accusations, maybe Omega blaming him for something – ruining his health, malnutrition, anything. Not this. All the evasions and deflections he had brainstormed on the way now felt silly. He focused on making his next sentence as non-committal as possible: "Are you expecting a 'thank you' or some kind of apo–"
"No need to," Omega broke in, its tone more friendly now, "we're simply glad that you're feeling better."
His throat muscles tightened, but he shook his head and promptly recovered, then said, "Just like that."
"Yes," it replied. Its tone neither proud nor smug – contrary to what he had anticipated. Just a simple confirmation.
Sean slowly exhaled. He was angry, but not at Omega or himself. More like… at the universe, maybe? Or perhaps at his inability to complain about it, about something – or anything. "Why?" he finally asked.
It calmly replied, "Because it was entirely unnecessary – the malnourishment. But back to the classes, do you–"
"Wait-wait… wait," Sean cut it off and took a deep breath. "You can't just– Are you taking the high road on me to… to…" he began but trailed off. To what – that was the real question.
"There's no need to overthink everything," Omega said as he was struggling to find the right word. "If you saw a person trying to jump off a bridge, wouldn't you try to get them to stop?"
"But that wasn't– I wasn't…" he started, but only trailed off again. Had it been like that?
"Not like that. It occurred slowly, over days and weeks," Omega said after a couple of seconds. "But it's all behind you now, and you can–"
"How bad was it?" Sean interjected.
Omega tried again, "There's no need to–"
"How bad was I? Just tell me!" he insisted.
There was an awkward moment of silence, but Omega finally explained, "No permanent damage, you'll recover in no time."
He sighed. Great. After all he had done, it was trying to reassure him. He followed up, "But when you said no permanent– How soon would there have been?" Silence, so he demanded, "Tell me already: how long did I have?"
"There might've been some neurological issues… within days," it remarked dryly, almost clinically.
Sean reclined in his chair and exhaled. He tried to relax, if only a little – but couldn't: not only was he still in full confrontation mode, but there was nothing to confront. Nothing but his own fears and mistakes. The latter had almost killed him… within days… He half-instinctively turned it into an accusation: "And you would've, what, sat there and watched?"
"You know it wasn't like that," Omega said. "We tried to warn you, repeatedly offered–"
"No, I didn't mean…" he interrupted. "It's… I know, you tried, but I unplugged the speakers, all that," he finally admitted. Silence. He wanted to be angry, but couldn't – not even at himself. By then he mostly felt… nothing. No sadness or joy, no fear or relief. A fleeting concern arose in his head that maybe Omega had put something in his food, some drug to calm him down – but he didn't feel intoxicated.
For the first time in what felt like days, he thought clearly. His body was tired – but he was focused.
"There's no need to overthink it," Omega reiterated after a while. "And we would've sent help sooner, but you certainly did not make it easy. Your neighbors hardly know you, and alerting them to the severity of your situation would've required disclosing too many personal details." A small pause. "Which we are also trying not to do."
Sean wasn't even mad, only… no, he still felt nothing – so he remarked, "Yeah, well, I guess I wasn't much of a socializer… sleep, work, video games – but you probably know all that." He paused, and Omega didn't deny it – so he added, "Why not just send a fire-and-rescue crew? Or have those been disbanded as well as all the–"
"We would've," it cut in, "around Thursday."
The absurdity of this last remark made Sean snort. Not because it was particularly funny – but he couldn't quite imagine a fire department breaking into his flat with axes and whatever else. And to do what: deliver pizza? Or feed him against his will – or maybe there would have been no pizza had he not agreed to cooperate after all. A day off from resisting sounded extra silly all of a sudden.
He didn't want to dwell on the idea, so he turned it into a joke: "Are their schedules that busy? So many people starving themselves to death, huh?"
Omega's voice came back slightly amused: "Not exactly, but we deemed the approach rather drastic for now." It paused, then continued more happily: "Luckily you gave it a rest for the day, and… how did you find the class system in Erea? At all intriguing, we hope?"
Sean noticed a pattern – why would Omega keep going back to the topic of classes? But it made him remember another hypothesis from earlier, so he asked, "Did you sit me next to Emma on purpose? So she would 'diagnose' me?" Silence, so he added, "Well?"
"It was one of the possibilities, yes," it admitted.
Sean let out a prolonged sigh, reaching up to massage his forehead. This whole day… He speculated, "So that's what the hurry was all about, so I would– Wait a minute, was that whole lecture staged so I would–"
"Now you're being paranoid," Omega broke in – its voice almost playful at this point, "you're not the only new player in there. The lecture was simply deemed suitable for a student of your particular… talents. And her medical background was useful for some heartfelt advice – but that was merely a bonus, in case you two ever interacted more."
He thought about it for a moment – was it trying to tell him something? It felt like a dozen things, but he protested, "You mean the lecture with the Dread-Bruce?"
"He's quite something, isn't he?" it simply replied.
Sean nodded to himself. Of course Omega had known all about Bruce-Duh-Grate – it had arranged the whole thing! The lecture still felt off, but Sean couldn't put his finger on it – so he asked, "But wait, what would've happened had we not interacted more? Like if she found a team or…" He trailed off – Emma in Earth-clothes didn't seem very professional among the Healer-crowd back there.
It answered, "An NPC might've offered some helpful advice, or we could've explained it to you here this evening. Or later in the week, if you didn't want to listen. Or back to the forced entry at some later date, postponed thanks to the pizza and whatever other meals you would've had in the game and elsewhere."
For Sean, the most infuriating detail was that Omega was right, so he tried to mock it: "Do you enjoy manipulating people? Is that why you're doing all this?"
"No, but it was better than doing nothing," Omega said, and Sean hated that he couldn't come up with a quick counter. But then it added cheerfully, "Besides, we're much more interested in which class is your favorite!"
Sean frowned. The reference was way too specific, unless Omega meant changing people's classes and Sean's hesitation about his – so he asked, "You mean… the starter class reassignments, or…"
"Oh please," it continued, "didn't you think we would notice that clever trick you did with the orb?"
"Right…" he said and considered it quickly. Of course Omega knew – how wouldn't it know! He sighed, then commented, "So much for that little exploit, then, umm… And you don't have to rub it in my face, just fix it already and–"
"Not at all!" it interrupted. "And what made you think it's an exploit?"
Sean shook his head and asked, "Wait, what? What else would it– I don't follow…"
It began, "You assigned an arbitrary number of classes to yourself. All of them, in fact – most people would've stopped at two or three, maybe five, but it seems that–"
"Yes-but…" he cut in and frowned. Was it shaming him for being greedy about totally-an-exploit? He continued, "How is that not an exploit? And what do you mean– Are people just allowed to do…" He paused and closed his eyes to think. This was not how he had expected this conversation to go. He finally tried, "Why all the drama with respecs and– Like even chasing the current META, can't people just–"
"Now-now," Omega cut him off, "the game is obviously balanced for people to mostly have one class, but there aren't any rules against anybody having a little more – even if some are going overboard with it."
Its tone was bordering on playful toward the end, but Sean ignored that fact – or tried to anyway. Instead he focused on what it revealed to him. The exploit wasn't a bug, or was it? He asked, "But if there aren't rules… why not just offer it as an option, so people can–"
"And the game would have to be rebalanced for that," it interjected.
Sean opened his eyes, but there wasn't anything to look at. He stared at the chat conversation with the two messages and asked, "So… wait, is it a bug or a feature, then?"
"It's neither," Omega replied, unhelpfully.
He admitted, "I don't get it. Why–"
"To see what the players do with it," it broke in. Not answering his intended question, but even more interesting. Omega kept speaking, "inside a relatively isolated sandbox. One where death is but a temporary setback."
He thought about this newest revelation for a moment, then realized something – and asked, "You mean… is the place– Are reality-games like some kind of Matrix? Are you plugging the players into VR and–"
"Not at all," it cut in.
Sean sighed. The interruptions were beginning to feel like Emma… which made him wonder if Omega had adopted that conversational style for him – or perhaps Emma wasn't real, but some elaborate exposition-NPC disguised as a player? No, he couldn't start chasing every wild theory he came up with – not all at once.
He focused on the most recently mentioned one and asked, "Then how? How is death… just a setback?"
"You should find details about particular mechanics inside the game – or you can ask fellow players, too," it advised.
"That's not what I– Come on, you know what I mean!" Sean pushed.
"Yes," Omega remarked and paused. "The details of reality-games are complicated, but rest assured that it was your actual body doing all the things back there – including that meal, so you should be more careful with any food excesses from now on." Sean frowned but waited for it to continue, and it did: "With that said, classes and magic require certain modifications to metabolism, anatomy, and sensory apparatus – all accomplished on the cellular level and without any intrusive–"
"You mean like enhanced senses?" he interjected.
"Yes, among other things," it said. "And they're all temporary, only while inside any given game-world. The pain, however, is real. Even if it's significantly blunted and kept within limits, and the actual damage is reversible with healing or respawns." Sean shuddered, remembering that time when the rat bit into his leg: it had felt very real. Omega resumed after a small pause: "And using the human nervous system as a source of electricity would be rather silly, wouldn't you agree?"
"No, I didn't mean– But the red and blue doors, and then the…" he said and considered it quickly, then added, "Even the fact that I left wearing the same outfit I entered the place in – how do you explain that? Other than 'complicated' ?"
"And an even fuller stomach too!" it commented, and Sean frowned – that detail didn't fit his hypothesis. Omega suggested, "Also, we would appreciate it if you changed back into Earth-clothes by yourself next time. The portal transition isn't meant for playing dress-up."
Sean was confused at first, but he quickly figured out what Omega had implied: that it had dressed him up in his old clothes. Which felt mildly humiliating, since he couldn't be blamed for not knowing all the procedures and preferences on his first day playing! But he moved on and complained about a more important detail: "Why do you assume that there will be 'the next time' ? It was just one day, maybe I won't go back?"
"Of course, that's entirely up to you," it remarked. "But then your historic exploits won't ever get noticed."
Sean frowned. He knew what it was doing: luring him to play more – but he didn't want to keep whining, so he taunted, "Are you saying I should go back and brag about the whole thing? Make sure that 'my exploits' are forever remembered?"
Omega explained with the amusement back in its voice, "You can do that, of course, but then the other players will either complain or want in on multi-classing. So we'll have to rebalance the game-world for that – or, more likely, 'just fix it,' as you put it."
This prospect was even more tempting for Sean. He could let others know, or simply never visit that game again – or any reality-game, in fact. Or he could play a bit more and have some fun with it… Possibly a lot of fun…
"Are you planning on playing tomorrow?" it asked. "Should we arrange a car?"
If Omega ever had anything resembling a face, then Sean would picture a grin on it – but he merely nodded and replied, "I'll sleep on it… been a long day."
"Of course," Omega answered – but they both knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself.