I stared up at the holographic sign, mounted on a building that was the diametrical opposite of it. While the sign was sleek and popped with colors and eye-catching detail, the building looked like it had been transported from a medieval German town, with half-timbering, a faux-thatched roof, and all the other works. I grinned to myself, not caring how stupid I looked to passersby.

Today was the day I was getting inside.

I wasn’t the first person to stop and stare. The new, first fully VR MMORPG had everyone looking like nutcrackers with their jaws hanging open, and I was no different. Popping out from the sign were the slew of races I’d read up on that frequented the game. Above them were the Pantheon, the in-game gods who not only maintained the game to keep everything perfect and bug-free but also played a role in The Everlands itself. Under the sign, text scrolled by like an old-timey marquee:

The Adventure of a Thousand Lifetimes! Limitless Quests, Storylines, and Characters, Ever-changing and Always Fascinating! Play The Everlands Today!

I knew it was no exaggeration and was frothing at the bit to try it.

But there was a problem. You had to be 21 to enter the parlors where you could play it, it being too sophisticated for personal systems. I was just 17.

My friends, geeks and nerds down to the last of them, had all resigned themselves to waiting until they “came of age,” as you will, to try it. I, however, had tried everything I could to enter. I’d hunted down that one guy every school seems to have who makes fake IDs for all the jocks and cheerleaders and got one myself, but the bouncer caught me at the front. I’d gotten my older brother, who was 22, to try and “escort” me in, but we got turned away then as well. I would have tried pretending to be my older brother but, well, I’m skinny and he’s fat, so that wouldn’t pan out too well.

But after staking out the place for a week, I finally had a way. Today, I would finally get into the parlor, and I’d log in to the huge, wide world of the Everlands. I’d explore a new (read: better) reality, and become someone badass and awesome.

It wasn’t that I hated my life. Sure, I was having a bad run with the ladies at the moment: Karen, my girlfriend of ten months — ex-girlfriend now — had wanted me to say the big “L” word, but I wasn’t ready for that. How the hell was I supposed to say I loved her when more than half the time I’d rather kick it with the guys and bust aliens with the Needler on Halo? To make matters worse, Karen was part of our friend group, one of three gamer-chicks in our high school, and she played the same instrument as me in band, the saxophone. So there was no escaping her anywhere I went.

And sure, my home life could be better. My brother was causing waves by moving in with his girlfriend after they’d only been dating six months. My parents — divorced, by the way — had started squabbling about it every chance they could get. Somehow, my issues got thrown into the mix: my plummeting grades, my lack of initiative in applying to colleges (I’d skipped a year of school in grade school), and, of course, the main problem of all: my so-called video game addiction.

What they didn’t understand was that video games weren’t just an addiction, like they were a disease or something you caught and cured. They were a way of life. Maybe it bothered me a little bit, sometimes, when I was struggling to sleep (I’m a diagnosed insomniac, so there’s that). But mostly, I was having the time of my life.

Suffice to say, I was ready to have the best time of my life playing The Everlands.

Everything I’d heard made it out to be just as epic as I’d imagined. While the original code was architected by humans, the world was maintained, changed, and innovated now by limited AIs. Sure, they’d have their coders’ biases, but otherwise, they wouldn’t have the limitations a human would have. They could work tirelessly and execute an infinite number of possibilities flawlessly, making the virtual reality, as their advertising went, truly unlimited, as well as free of overbearing hands. How it developed from here was in the hands of the players and their choices within the world.

I was literally sweating with eagerness to get started. Gross, I know. But wouldn’t you be?

But first, I had to infiltrate. I moved around to the back of the building through a narrow alley where the dumpster behind the parlor was. Ducking behind the dumpster, I put down my backpack and quickly took out the kitchen outfit I’d stolen from the trash a few days ago and put it on over my clothes. It had a stain down the front of the shirt and was a size too large, but I just cinched my belt and set my resolve. I couldn’t fail, or I’d never get to play. Or as close to never as counted — three and a half years was a lifetime in the gaming world. I didn’t want to be playing irrelevant dinosaurs while the sleek starship was just out of grasp.

So I walked up to the back door and took a deep breath. This way led to the kitchens, I knew from my week of stakeout. I didn’t have a key, but people regularly came out back for smoke breaks and tossing out the trash. I took out the pack of cigarettes I’d snuck from Dad’s supply at home, knocked one into my hand, then clumsily set to lighting the end. I didn’t smoke, but I pretended to be lazily doing so, leaning against the parlor wall, until someone finally came out the door.

It was a heavyset older woman, who immediately spotted me and donned a scowl. “What are doing back here? Get back to work, or I’ll make sure you don’t work another day of your life!”

I sneered a little, as I thought my cover character might, then slouched inside the door the woman held open for me, her eyes scrutinizing me the whole way. “And tomorrow,” she said to my back, “come with a clean shirt!”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I hid my smile as I pressed through the swinging door and into the bustling kitchen. People moved everywhere, and steaming smells assaulted my nose. Some of the food was the same as could be found at any bar, but there was a specialty line for the more hardcore gamers. A whole wall of the kitchen had rows upon rows of blenders and food processors. They were for making sure those people who stayed under longer than a day (the recommended limit was 24 hours, but the parlor wouldn’t cut them off until 72 hours had passed) still had the sustenance to keep them alive and relatively healthy. Same went for water and bathroom business. I sympathized, but I couldn’t see myself going that far. I mean, it might be the best game ever made, but in the end, The Everlands was still just a game. Have some self-respect, people!

At least, that was what I was saying from this side of it.

Everyone was so busy that people barely glanced at me, except to note my stain with a disdainful look. I ignored them and passed through, my stomach a jangle of nerves and excitement. It was working. I couldn’t believe this was so easy.

“Hey, man, where you going?”

My blood suddenly ran cold. I slowly turned around to see a long-faced, long-haired twenty-something guy staring at me with bloodshot eyes.

“Just to the bathroom,” I said as casually as I could. I gestured to my shirt. “Spilled a little something.”

The guy slowly looked down at my stain. I swear a whole minute passed before a slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah, man. Get that cleaned up. Then I could use a hand on Station 6, you know?”

“Yeah, man,” I said, imitating his slow drawl. The guy was so out of his mind baked he had to have smoked something in the last five minutes. “I’ll see you there.”

He gave a slow nod, then made his way back towards the kitchens. I had just turned around myself when he said, “Oh. Bathroom’s that way.”

I grinned, hoping I didn’t look too guilty. “Right. Still kind of new here.”

The guy just nodded and walked as slow as if he were on the moon. I shook my head and followed the hallway he’d pointed down to the bathroom. There, I slipped off the kitchen clothes and stuffed them in the trash can, revealing my regular street clothes underneath. If need be, I could always come back and retrieve them to leave. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be anything more too gross on them, but I was willing to take the risk.

Taking another deep breath to calm my bubbling excitement, I stepped out of the bathroom and followed the signs to the hubs. There, extending on both sides of the hallway, I saw the terminal rooms for The Everlands. They reached all the way to the back, then curled around out of sight. There were at least twenty in this first hallway. I walked down it, itching to get a look at the system, but all the doors were closed, and the windows tinted black. No peep show for outsiders; you got complete privacy, other than the services you requested.

All of the first hall terminals were full, so I turned the corner to the second. As I did, I saw a big hulking man coming down the way in a black polo. Clearly a security guard. Alarm bells ringing in my head and worst-case scenarios flashing by like a video in fast-forward, I put on a friendly smile as I glanced at the man, while the corner of my eye spied an open room. I quickly ducked into it, but the security guy caught up to me first, stopping in front of my door, silently demanding an explanation.

I put on an apologetic grin. “Just going for a quick whiz.”

The ape’s eyes darted to the door, and I suddenly realized the others had had something displayed there. No doubt a digital timecard or something like that, telling the staff how long the person had left to play. The one on my door, of course, was blank. I thought quickly. “Oh yeah, that,” I said with a little laugh. “The guy that helped me said that this one wasn’t working properly. He was getting a tech to fix it.”

The man stared at me unblinking a little longer so that I couldn’t help but shift my feet a little. Finally, though, he turned and continued stalking down the hall.

I barely waited to breathe again before I slipped out the door and continued further. I wasn’t about to stay in that room when security was suspicious of me. My only chance was to find another room, plug in, and hope the staff didn’t notice the blank timecard for a while.

I slipped into a room further down the hall and closed the door behind, then flipped on the light switch. I drew in a breath as I saw it before me. It looked like a broken-down version of an MRI machine, with the addition of a headset that would encompass my entire face when I put it on. The thing looked like an accident waiting to happen if I tried working it myself. But if I wanted to play The Everlands, that was the only way I could do it. Not only was I too young, but there was also no way I could afford more than ten minutes under. I’d just have to wing it.

Searching through the menus on the console nearby, I soon managed to find my way to the activation sequence. Stumbling through the part where it asked how long I wished to play, I increased the time for as long as it would allow, 72 hours, figuring someone would wake me long before that time anyway. I skimmed the instructions and cautionary warnings, then tapped the green START button at the bottom.

A woman’s voice with a British accent started to give me instructions. “Please lie down on the bed and secure the visor.” I did as she said, fiddling around with the headset to make sure it fit right. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, feeling made of memory foam 2.0 or something. Once I’d properly gotten the visor on, the console said, “Put your arms by your sides and lie on your back. You will now be entering the virtual reality simulator.”

The excitement and fear of being caught made it almost impossible to lie still, but I managed it as the bed slowly slid under the capsule. I don’t know if it was all the emotions clanging inside of me, but I felt a bout of claustrophobia rising in me. Just as I was about to call it quits, the woman’s voice came in from all around me, the sound quality crystal clear and realistic. “Your play time will be 72 hours. Is this correct? Please answer with Yes or No to continue.”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“Play time confirmed. I am obliged to remind you that while your time will be limited to 72 hours in reality, within the simulation, time passes much faster, so it will appear to be many more days.”

“That’s fine.”

“Remember also that you may log off at any time. Now please relax and enjoy your journey, adventurer. Welcome to the Everlands.”

The machine around me hummed to life. Suddenly, I couldn’t feel my toes, my hands, any of my body. I couldn’t hear, taste, smell, or see. I tried swallowing down the panic, but I couldn’t feel myself do that either. Then there was a flash of bright light as the projection lasers hit my eyes, and I felt myself fall away like I’d been knocked unconscious.

There was no turning back now.