The office buzzed with quiet noise, Marcus Gray sat near the window, his monitor displayed a half-finished spreadsheet that hadn't been touched in nearly an hour. He sat perfectly still, his face unreadable.
"Gray."
He didn't turn.
"Marcus."
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder. His supervisor stood nearby, arms crossed and clearly annoyed.
"You're behind again."
"I'll finish it," Marcus replied, his tone flat, indifferent.
"You said that yesterday."
The supervisor waited for more. Marcus said nothing. Eventually, the man just walked away with a frustrated sigh.
Marcus turned back to his screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard but didn't move.
He hadn't always been like this. Years ago, he'd been part of something—he'd had people. A family. A home. But that life ended fifteen years ago in a single night. A drunk driver ran a red light. The crash killed both his parents and his younger sister instantly.
Marcus was the only one who hadn't been in the car.
Since then, everything about him had changed. Eat, sleep, repeat. He had mastered the art of routine. The color had drained from his life a long time ago.
That evening, he left the office like usual. The streets were packed with people going home or out for the night, but to Marcus, it all felt muted—like watching a movie on mute. He passed a towering digital billboard flashing with ads. One caught his eye:
Eternal Realms Online — Dive into a new world. No limits. No rules. No reality.
He stopped for a moment.
The game had launched that morning. A fully immersive, high-fidelity VRMMORPG with nearly unlimited freedom, player-run factions, and real-time sensory input. A world where you could be anyone, do anything.
He remembered the capsule he'd ordered weeks ago. It had arrived just the other day.
Marcus stared up at the ad.
"A new world, huh."
He turned and walked on.
His apartment was quiet when he arrived. The VR capsule sat in the corner, humming faintly, sleek and black like a high-end sarcophagus.
He took off his coat, sat on the edge of his bed, and opened the drawer of his nightstand. Inside was a photo, worn at the edges — his family, all smiling. His little sister had been holding his arm, waving a sparkler.
He looked at the picture for a long time.
He stood, walked to the capsule, and touched the release panel. It opened with a hiss, revealing a soft, contoured interior. Marcus lay down inside. The capsule adjusted to his body automatically, and the glass dome closed over him.
[Welcome, Marcus Gray.][Neural sync in progress...][Prepare for immersion.]
He closed his eyes.
At first, there was nothing but stillness.
Then something tightened in his chest.
His eyes snapped open, but all he saw was black. His limbs wouldn't respond. A sharp pressure grew inside his skull.
"What the hell...?"
[Warning. Vital signs unstable.][Fatal error detected: cardiac arrest.][Emergency consciousness transfer... initializing.]
He wanted to scream. But he couldn't even breathe. The weight in his chest grew heavier — and then it was gone. Everything disappeared. Even the sense of his own body.
"You have died, Marcus Gray."
"However, a new role has been assigned."
"Rebooting consciousness. Please wait..."