The sky blazed a violent red over the quaint village of Cheshire, Connecticut. Despite the strange, otherworldly hue, the residents carried on as if nothing was amiss. Joggers moved along the brick-lined walkways of Main Street, pausing occasionally to peer into shop windows in the town’s historic vending district.
“I have so many questions,” Cedar said, her eyes scanning the familiar sights of her hometown. They sped past Bartlem Park, where children played little league as parents cheered from the sidelines. Cedar battled to keep her hair from whipping into her face as the wind howled through the open car. “It looks so real. How is this possible?”
Nachi puffed his cheeks before answering. “The mind fills in the blanks. All of this is just a memory—it’s how you envision yesterday. being”
“Yesterday, the 28th?”
Nachi nodded. “Pretty cool, huh?"
“How is this even possible?” Cedar pressed. “Is it like a dream or . . . ”
“It’s a cross between a dream and being hypnotized,” Nachi said, idly scratching the back of his head. “We don’t totally understand it, but hey, it works, right?”
The lack of depth in his response only heightened Cedar’s curiosity. Nachi’s easygoing demeanor made him likable, but she couldn’t shake the sense that he lacked any real answers. Still, she couldn’t resist asking more.
“Okay, but how are you here? How are we sharing the same dream?”
Nachi’s grin widened. “That’s the best part—they give us drugs.”
“Drugs?” Cedar’s annoyance flared as she glared at him. “Are you high right now?”
“No! No, I’m not high,” Nachi said quickly, waving his hands in protest. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “They slip us a hallucinogenic cocktail and stimulate the part of the brain responsible for out-of-body experiences.”
“Hey, Everly!” he called to the front seat.
“What?” Everly replied without turning around.
“What’s that part of the brain they stimulate for OBEs?”
Everly sighed. “The posterior part of the superior temporal gyrus. On the right side.”
Nachi smirked at Cedar. “See? She’s like a walking textbook. Watch this—Hey, Everly!”
“What now, Nachi?” Her tone was sharp, her patience clearly wearing thin. “You don’t have to yell; I’m right here.”
“What’s that contraption made of? The one they strap to our heads?”
Everly answered curtly. “Ytterbium, rhodium, and silicon. That’s the mechanism that connects us, if that's what you're asking.”
“Thanks,” Nachi said, turning back to Cedar with a look of smug satisfaction.
Cedar leaned forward, deciding she’d get better answers directly from Everly. But her past experience with the woman’s no-nonsense demeanor—and the fact that Everly had cuffed her—didn’t inspire confidence.
“You said I was arrested for grand larceny?” Cedar asked loudly enough for both of them to hear.
Nachi answered quickly, as if to cover Everly’s deliberate silence. “Yeah, it was in-san-it-tee! I’ve never seen anything like it. Nobody could figure out how you did it. I called it a deep fake right away, but even after they verified the footage, I still wasn’t buying it.”
“What did they see?” Cedar’s voice sharpened.
Nachi hesitated, then shrugged. “It’s pretty gnarly. You got any enemies? Anyone who’d want to frame you?”
“No,” Cedar snapped. “I’m a massage therapist.”
“Okay, fair,” Nachi conceded. “Whoever did this was a pro. My guess? Inside job.”
Cedar leaned closer. “What was on the footage?”
Nachi’s eyes lit up as he recounted the details. “It started with a flash—a big bright light filling the room. This all happened inside Hyperion Union, middle of the night. After the flash, there was this… thing. A human-sized glob of goo appeared out of nowhere, and it started moving, like someone was trapped inside trying to get out.”
“Oh my God,” Cedar whispered.
“It gets weirder,” Nachi continued, his voice tinged with awe. “It was you. Or, well, it looked like you. Facial recognition, fingerprints, DNA—all matched. But this . . . person, they were naked and started dancing. And waving at the cameras.”
“What?!” Cedar recoiled, her mind struggling to process what she’d just heard.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Nachi said, raising his hands defensively. “But that’s not even the craziest part.”
Cedar had heard enough. “This isn’t real,” she muttered, shaking her head. “None of this is real. I’m in a coma. That’s the only explanation.”
Nachi grinned. “So you don’t wanna hear about the part where lasers shoot out of your eyeballs?”
Cedar stared at him, unsure if he was joking. “You’re kidding, right?”
Before Nachi could respond, Everly suddenly swerved the car, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“What the hell was that?” she shouted, bringing the car to a screeching halt.
Nachi gripped the back of the seat, his knuckles white. “Geez, Everly, drive much?”
Everly was already out of the car, her eyes fixed on the sky. “Did you see that?” she asked.
“See what?” Nachi called after her.
“There was something flying above us. It looked . . . human,” Everly said, her voice edged with unease.
Nachi squinted at the sky but saw nothing unusual. “Welp, whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
“I’ve never seen that happen before,” Everly muttered, crossing her arms as she stared at the crimson expanse above. “Not on day two. It’s too early for that nonsense.”
“What do you mean?” Cedar asked. “What’s not supposed to happen?”
The red sky loomed above them like a malevolent force, its presence oppressive and unrelenting.
Everly exhaled sharply, her stance rigid. “We’re floating amidst the infinite sea of your subconscious, inside a fragile, delicate program. Think of us as being in a cardboard box at the bottom of an ocean, and your subconscious is the ocean. Soon, all of this—everything you see here—will be consumed. The red sky is your subconscious trying to break through, and apparently, other things are starting to creep in too.”
“What other things?” Cedar’s voice was barely audible.
“Don’t mind her,” Nachi interjected with a dismissive wave. “She’s always dramatic.”
“Can you take me home?” Cedar begged, tears welling in her eyes.
“You can’t go home now,” Everly said firmly, already climbing back into the driver’s seat. “You have to wait it out until the program ends. If you go home, you’ll only go deeper in.” She slammed the car door for emphasis, the sound jolting Cedar.
“I don’t care! I just want to go home,” Cedar said, her voice cracking as her throat tightened.
Nachi nudged her shoulder gently. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. The program’s almost over, and you won’t remember any of this, alright?”
“Just breathe,” Everly added, her tone surprisingly soft. “Slow, deep breaths.”
Cedar reluctantly obeyed, focusing on her breathing as she tried to steady herself. Yet the weight of the situation pressed down on her, making every breath feel like a battle against impending doom.
“I still don’t understand how any of this is possible,” she admitted. Maybe if she had more answers, the panic would subside.
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Everly’s patience wore thin. “This technology is over a hundred years old. How can you not understand it?”
Cedar bristled at the condescension. “Explain it to me then,” she challenged.
Everly sighed. “It started with the development of the first language-based AI. Researchers discovered that all languages share a universal pattern—a kind of shape. That shape can be captured using an fMRI scan to create a visual of what the defendant is subconsciously imagining. Right now, we’re inside a reconstruction of your perception of events. Your focus has been intentionally confined so you have no choice but to relive this day. It’s all facilitated by an intelligent language translator.”
The explanation made Cedar feel as though the walls of her reality were closing in. “I need to get indoors. I think I’m having another panic attack.”
“Here, take my hand,” Nachi offered, his voice gentle as he extended his hand toward her.
Everly, focused on the road, added, “It’s going to get worse, but the system is designed to wake you up when the program collapses. As long as you don’t go home, you’ll be safe.”
It’s going to get worse, Cedar thought bitterly. Is that supposed to make me feel better?
The car rolled along Route 10, Cedar gripping Nachi’s hand as if it were her last lifeline. She shut her eyes, no longer caring about the intricacies of the program. Instead, she concentrated on her breathing—steady, rhythmic, in and out. I’m not going to die. I’m safe. This is just a panic attack. I’m safe.
“We’re here,” Everly announced, pulling into the parking lot of the Cheshire Welcome Inn. “This is as good a place as any.”
Cedar opened her eyes and frowned. The Cheshire Welcome Inn wasn’t her idea of safe.
“Why can’t I go home?”
“That’s where you were arrested,” Nachi explained. “If you go back now, you’ll be gassed and sent into the program all over again. Only this time, it’ll last much longer.”
Everly stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Cedar flinched at the sound.
“The deeper you go into the program, the longer you’ll be stuck in it,” Everly said flatly.
“You don’t want to be here on day three,” Nachi added ominously. “It’s not just the sky that changes on day three.”
As Nachi circled to Cedar’s side, she couldn’t help but reflect on what she knew about the virtual rehabilitation program. She’d first heard about it in elementary school, when the program captivated public fascination, but the novelty quickly faded, replaced by outrage. Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians—everyone seemed to oppose it. The general consensus was that the technology was invasive, unethical, and dangerous.
Despite the backlash, the Supreme Court upheld its use, ruling that individuals forfeited certain rights the moment they became threats to society. Law enforcement gained sweeping authority to employ the program upon arrest.
Initially, law officials targeted select non-violent offenders, offering reduced sentences for cooperation. But over time, advancements in quantum engineering allowed the program to evolve. Scientists discovered that as participants went deeper into the program, subjective time stretched—turning hours into days, days into weeks. What had started as a tool for recalling memories became a labyrinth of endless possibilities.
Only recently had officials replaced traditional incarceration with virtual rehabilitation. The program promised significant savings in government spending while offering a revolutionary approach to reforming prisoners. In just a single day, convicts could be both incarcerated and rehabilitated, emerging with a clean record—provided they fulfilled their penalties or paid restitution after their stint in the program.
Surprisingly, every participant complied, eager to reclaim their lives. Those who completed the program were often seen as not only ready to reintegrate into society but, in most cases, better prepared than individuals who had never entered the system at all.
But the program came with risks. Not everyone emerged from it unscathed—some never made it out at all.
Now, as Cedar stood on the threshold of the Cheshire Welcome Inn, the red sky hanging ominously overhead, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to be swallowed whole.
“You have to get me out of here,” Cedar pleaded as she stepped out of the car on unsteady legs. Nachi immediately offered his arm for support, and she clung to it, grateful for the stability.
Everly rummaged through her satchel and retrieved a small key.
“Damn, girl, you are impressive,” Nachi said with a smirk.
“In here,” Everly instructed, unlocking the door to a random motel room. “You’ll be safe here.”
Cedar sighed with relief, letting go of Nachi’s arm and darting inside. “It’s so . . . beige,” she uttered, her gaze sweeping the room.
“That’s pretty standard for places like this,” Everly replied, stepping in behind her and shutting the door. “You haven’t been here before, have you?”
“No,” Cedar admitted, sinking onto the beige bed and eyeing the matching carpet. “But it’s better than being outside.”
“Yeah, that red sky messes with your head for sure,” Nachi agreed, flopping onto a nearby chair.
Everly drew the curtains, muting the eerie red glow seeping into the room and lending it a slightly more welcoming, albeit still overwhelmingly beige, ambiance. Cedar felt a wave of gratitude for the small comfort.
“I don’t want to die in here,” she murmured, burying her face in her hands. “I just want it to be over.”
“Who said anything about dying?” Nachi asked.
“You’re not going to die,” Everly reassured her in her usual monotone. “Nobody gets trapped this early on.”
“How much longer until I wake up?” Cedar asked, her voice small.
Nachi glanced at the beige clock on the wall, but Everly answered first. “Eight hours.”
Eight more hours? Cedar cringed. Maybe I can sleep through it. Or curl up under the bed until it’s over. Maybe Nachi and Everly will stay with me.
Everly picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.
“There’s TV?” Cedar perked up, leaning forward slightly.
“Just relax and watch,” Everly said, her tone firmer than usual. “You’ll wake up soon enough.”
Cedar didn’t have time to question Everly’s strict tone. The moment her eyes fell on the flickering screen, her head began to swoon. “I know this one . . . ” she slurred, her tongue feeling thick and foreign in her mouth. “This is from when I was a waitreth . . . ” Her words tangled as she tried to gesture at the TV, but her arms felt impossibly heavy.
Nachi and Everly turned their attention to the screen. The TV displayed a first-person perspective of a vast dining area, likely inside a bustling restaurant or casino.
A man appeared on-screen, his voice urgent. “Take drink orders for tables 38 through 47. STAT.”
“But I’m new. I don’t know where those tables are,” the real Cedar mumbled, half-asleep on the bed.
On the screen, Cedar—now absorbed into the projection of her own dream—hurried toward her assigned section. She approached a table of five, each guest rattling off complicated drink orders in rapid succession.
“Yikes,” Nachi muttered, watching the scene unfold. “That’s brutal. Looks like a nightmare.”
“She’s not going to remember any of it,” Everly said dismissively. A rare flicker of excitement crossed her face. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
----------------------------------------
“Are you heading back, or sticking around like last time?” Nachi asked, trailing behind Everly as they stepped out of the motel into the crimson-tinged daylight.
“I’m planning to interview that doctor,” Everly replied, slipping on her sunglasses. “He seemed quite lucid.”
“Research for your book?”
“Of course,” she said, flashing a crooked smile as she slid into the convertible. “What about you? Going to sweet-talk the yokels again?”
“Ha ha, very funny—oh snap!” Nachi yelped suddenly, his voice breaking.
“What?” Everly followed Nachi’s wide-eyed stare skyward.
Above them, roughly thirty yards up, a figure floated in mid-air, arms crossed, staring down at them with an air of authority.
“Oh my God,” Everly gasped.
“Oh my God,” Nachi echoed, barely a whisper.
The floating figure was unmistakably human—or at least humanoid.
“What . . . who? What or who the hell is that?” Nachi sputtered.
“Calm down,” Everly ordered, though her own voice wavered. Her eyes never left the hovering figure. “Remember, nothing can hurt you here.”
“But it can scare the crap out of me!” Nachi said, clutching his chest. “I’m gonna get PTSD from this shit. My heart’s goin’ a mile a minute.”
“Shhh.” Everly shushed him sharply. “She’s coming down.”
“Nope. No way. I am out of here,” Nachi declared, frantically patting down his suit pockets. “Where’s my damn escape key?”
“Wait.” Everly raised a hand, her gaze narrowing on the figure as it descended.
As the woman drew closer, her features became clear. Everly froze.
“No . . . it can’t be,” she whispered.
Nachi paused his frantic search, his head snapping up.
"Impossible," Everly whispered.
Upon seeing the face of the hovering person, Nachi declared, “Screw this, I'm leavin'," resuming his search of his pockets. "Where the hell is it?”
Everly’s gaze flickered between the descending figure and her satchel. The urge to flee was strong, but the writer in her held firm. Without documenting this moment, how could she craft a compelling narrative? Her book needed something extraordinary—something no one else could claim.
It’s now or never.
“I’m staying,” Everly said, her voice steady as she planted her feet and glowered at the figure.
"Are you crazy? It's her! It's Cedar! Maybe it's her evil twin or something, I don't know," Nachi said, his voice laden with fear. "I'm not sticking around to find out."
"Or . . . " Everly pursed her lips in thought.
"Or what?" asked Nachi.
Before Everly could answer, the floating woman touched down gracefully and strode toward them. She was dressed in spandex, complete with stretchy underwear worn over her clothes, and a crimson cape fluttering dramatically behind her. Her light brown hair bounced with an unnatural, glossy curl.
“Don’t worry,” the Cedar look-alike declared cheerfully, her voice brimming with whimsical confidence. “I’ll take it from here.” She shot them a clumsy thumbs-up. “Nice work, though!”
Everly and Nachi stood frozen as the woman strode past them, her cape flaring theatrically. She paused at the motel door, turning back to the bewildered pair.
“Is this the room?” she asked, gesturing toward the door.
Neither of them responded.
“No worries, I’ll find it,” the woman chirped. She waved them off dismissively. “You kids scamper along now, you hear?” With that, she pushed open the door and disappeared inside.
“Or what?!” Nachi shouted again, his hands thrown in the air.
Everly’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk. “Split personalities. That Cedar may have committed grand larceny, not the one we just knocked out.”
Nachi crossed his arms. “No way. That Cedar looks like a damn fool.”
Everly mirrored his stance. “As the defending witness, it’s your obligation to question her.”
“But what if she admits to it? What then?” Nachi countered, his voice rising. “It’s still nowhere in our Cedar’s memory that she committed a crime. It wouldn’t hold up in court, and you’d be dragging this poor girl through hell for what? A chapter in your book?”
Everly bit her bottom lip, her mind racing. This wasn’t just about a chapter—it was potentially groundbreaking research, something that could push the boundaries of virtual rehabilitation and neuroscience.
“You know I’m right,” she insisted, her tone resolute. “If we leave now, that goofy caped crusader is going to wake her up, and Cedar will most likely be sent deeper into the program. You’d be the one letting her suffer, not me.”
Nachi groaned, pouting under his thick eyebrows. “Damn.” He kicked at the gravel. “Damn, damn.”
“So we’re agreed?” Everly pressed.
“Agreed,” Nachi muttered reluctantly, his chin buried in his neck.
The two approached the motel door, and Everly rapped on it firmly. When no response came, she tried the handle, but it didn’t budge. Frowning, she knocked again, louder this time.
“Do we break in?” Nachi asked, glancing at her uncertainly.
“If we must,” Everly replied, already rummaging through her satchel for the key.
“You’re the muscle here. Go for it.” Nachi stepped back, giving her space.
Finally, Everly produced the key and turned toward the door, bracing herself for action—only to freeze.
The door had vanished.