Rosa and Selina smelt the tang of RealityStep’s bare, unfinished corridors before they appeared. It was as though the dark had blinked, stripping away its layers to reveal something unresolved beneath. Rowan crouched low, his fingers brushing the cold floor as if testing its texture, then straightened and tilted his head, listening intently. Rosa glanced at Selina, who looked just as disoriented with the sense of having been pulled from one unreality to another.
A faint resonance of the attic’s final whisper lingered, particularly the string of g’s that had drifted by their eyes in the virtual air, still in Rosa's mind. She felt an odd pang - a longing, almost - for the hidden space that had just slipped away. Rowan looked up at her, his upturned face barely discernible in the gloom.
Dim LED strips cast an anaemic luminance, revealing walls with muted colours, the textures patchy - here a sharp, too-bright patch of metal, there a dark blur where the rendering hadn’t kept up, creating the unsettling sense they were moving through an unfinished, unimportant part of the simulation.
The women were about to venture down the corridor when a sound stopped them dead in their tracks. A low, rhythmic vocalisation of intricate grunts punctuated by occasional sharp inhales and soft vocal pops. The urgent groove was undercut with a dull hum that buzzed through the air as a hover cart appeared, drifting smoothly into view as if it had materialized out of thin air.
The beatboxing man steering the hover cart was dressed in the standard RealityStep uniform, but with the kind of eccentric flair that suggested he didn’t much care about convention. His name tag read “GUS”, though someone had scrawled over it with a red marker, adding, "Director of Shenanigans”. Gus had a neon scarf slung over his shoulder, and matching socks that peered out from under his trousers as he casually steered the cart mouthing a loud beatbox groove, the frame of the hover cart whirring as it glided effortlessly across the floor.
The cart itself was a floating platform cluttered with an assortment of oddities: a small aquarium containing a translucent fish that blinked in time to Gus’ groove; a stack of disassembled VR headsets, their wires still buzzing faintly with residual energy; a tangled mess of neon cables pulsing like veins; and a prosthetic orange eye attached to a set of metal stalks, each holding an additional small, translucent lens aligned in the air like delicate insect wings..
“Stop the presses!” Gus called out dramatically, skidding to a halt in front of them. “I knew it! The rumours were true! Someone’s been running illicit monkey experiments in the sub-levels. And here you are, bold as brass, parading your subject through my corridor.” He pointed a finger at Rowan, who stood unblinking and unfazed by the attention.
Rosa raised an eyebrow. “We’re not... running experiments. We’re just lost.”
“Lost, she says!” Gus threw his hands up in mock horror. “Lost, with a monkey who looks like he’s plotting a hostile takeover of the gel market; love that crest. Do you think I was born yesterday?”
Selina stepped forward, her tone sharp and unbothered. “We took a wrong turn. Can you point us back to the public area?”
“Ah, the public area. The land of overpriced imaginary cappuccinos and augmented reality gift shops,” Gus said with a dramatic sigh, leaning on the hover cart. “Sure, I could take you there. But what if... you’re spies? Corporate saboteurs sent to infiltrate our core systems! I’d be the laughingstock of the company if I just let you waltz out of here.”
Rowan tilted his head slightly, meeting Gus’s gaze with unblinking calm. Gus faltered for a moment, his playful demeanor giving way to a flicker of uncertainty.
“Okay, fine, he’s got honest eyes,” Gus muttered, waving his hand dismissively. “But you two? Not so much. Especially you, ponytail.”
Selina’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Careful, or I’ll make you regret saying that.”
“Ooh, fiery! I like it.” Gus grinned, tossing a sleek multitool into the air and deftly catching it. “Alright, I’ll take you back. But only because I’ve got a meeting with the cleaning bots in ten minutes, and they hate it when I’m late.”
Selina pointedly flicked her ponytail and asked, “Tell me, Gus - you don't happen to have a brother called Zephyr by any chance?”
Gus paused, looking genuinely puzzled. “No... Should I?”
“Never mind,” Selina replied, shaking her head and meeting Rosa's disapproving glare with a shrug.
Gus spun the hover cart around with a flourish, the fish inside the aquarium flicking its tail absentmindedly, the prosthetic orange eye twinking softly in the dim light.
“Follow me, my wayward wanderers! Try not to touch anything, and definitely don’t lick the walls. Don’t ask why. Just don’t.”
They followed cautiously, Rosa and Selina exchanging glances as Gus rambled on. “You know, this place isn’t all holograms and brain-hacking fun times. There’s a whole ecosystem down here. Did you know the servers have their own microclimate? It’s practically raining in Subsection D. And don’t get me started on the rogue vending machines.”
When they reached the door to the foyer, Gus spun around and struck a pose, gesturing grandly as the door hissed open.
“Behold! Your gateway to normalcy. Go forth and blend in. But remember, if anyone asks, you didn’t see me. In fact, I didn’t see me. Gus who? Never heard of him.”
The door slid open, revealing the vibrant, otherworldly beauty of RealityStep’s main foyer. Gus eyebrow waved at them, then made an exaggerated bow as the fish in the aquarium blinked rhythmically at their departure.
“Good luck out there, kids. And keep an eye on the monkey. He’s got revolution written all over him.”
With that, he disappeared back into the labyrinth, his hover cart humming as it floated off, leaving behind the faint echo of his last words.
The shift in surroundings was instant and disorienting, as if they had stepped out of grayscale into vivid color. RealityStep’s main foyer exploded before them, an awe-inspiring space that felt plucked from the edges of a lucid dream. The polished concrete walls held seamless display panels rippling with streams of glowing code that occasionally coalesced into images: faces, dreamscapes, and abstract forms. Overhead, the ceiling was specked with faint particles suggesting a neural network through which pulses of energy flowed like the firing of synapses, casting a soft, ambient glow.
The floors were a highly buffed gunmetal grey, giving very lightly underfoot, putting a slight bounce into each step. Soft orchestral tones filled the air, creating an atmosphere of inspiration and quiet elegance.
Ahead, the main display area dominated the space, with a forest of holographic screens stretching toward the vaulted ceiling. Periodically, a cascading waterfall seemed to pour from screen to screen, only to dissipate into mist just above the floor. Some screens showcased abstract shapes morphing into lifelike creatures before breaking apart into particles of pure energy. A central console invited visitors to Reimagine Reality with the question: What story do you want to tell? Moments later, holographic figures emerged - fractured characters in mid-action, their expressions frozen in haunting moments of intensity.
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One smartglass kiosk invited users to “Dive into the Fourth Wall” and create immersive experiences where holographic characters stepped out of their stories and interacted with onlookers.
Selina’s eyes drifted across the displays, her lips pursing in a mix of admiration and scepticism. “This is some next-level stuff,” she murmured, the ambient light reflecting off the subtle embroidery of her jacket.
“More like sensory overload,” Rosa replied, her tone wry as the glimmer from a nearby projection danced across the dark, fluid lines of her long coat.
Rosa saw a nearby panel that read, Explore the depths of your mind, before unfolding a breathtaking animation of a shimmering sea that warped into the surface of a distant moon. Around them, visitors stood in awe, their faces illuminated by the ethereal glow of the projections. The environment felt like a portal to infinite possibilities, a glimpse of technology’s promise to make even the wildest dreams tangible.
Enraptured avatars wandered through the space, their expressions ranging from wonder to unease, as if caught between marveling at the technological artistry and questioning whether it was all too real.
Some glass cases in the lecture area caught their attention next. A RealityStep presenter, clad in a slim-fit black suit, addressed a small audience gathered around a raised platform with three upright glass cases. His voice was smooth, carefully modulated, and laced with an air of practised persuasion as he gestured enthusiastically.
The presenter, standing with a confident smile, began, "For some time now, AI has had the remarkable ability to create holograms, musical symphonies, immersive environments, translating thoughts into actions, creating personalised experiences based on your deepest creative desires and cherished memories. The next frontier, however, is much bolder: the creation of… reality itself."
Rosa and Selina exchanged a glance, their curiosity piqued. Rowan, holding onto Selina's leg, sniffed the air and grimaced, his sharp teeth flashing momentarily. His crest bristled as he eyed the stage.
"The ability to take objects, creatures, characters, whether from virtual reality, beloved stories, or your own prompts, and make them real - real enough to exist in the physical world. That is what we are witnessing here today," the presenter continued, gesturing toward the stage.
There were three creatures, one in each case: a small, delicate, winged figure, an unsettling, spindly blue creature, and a rat-like character. Lifelike recreations of fantasies. Vivid, crisp, and beautifully detailed, they stood in their glass boxes, looking indistinguishable from any of the various avatars watching them.
Rowan huffed softly, shifting uneasily. He stretched out a hand toward Rosa’s arm and then pulled it back, looking uncomfortable.
The presenter beckoned the crowd closer. "These are ‘liberants’ brought into physical dimensions via advanced AI synthesis. They are reverse avatars, fully realised in the real world and replicated here in the virtual space around us, responding to stimuli and interacting with their environment."
Rosa felt a chill run down her spine. To her, the avatars didn’t feel like a breakthrough - they felt more like lost souls, adrift in some digital purgatory. How would they understand their place in the world? How would they navigate the space between creation and reality? She felt a low wave of dizziness creep through her head and took a step to steady herself.
Selina looked unimpressed by the creatures. “They’re just VR stuff, like everything else here. I mean, you could have dragons, aliens, or even, like, glittery unicorns, and it’d look just as real. Showing these off in NexUs doesn’t prove anything at all.”
In the central display stood a three-foot-tall rat-like creature encased in its own glass enclosure. Its slick, wiry fur gleamed as though perpetually wet, catching the light in unnerving ways. The creature’s eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the room, glinting with a peculiar intelligence that made it appear more present than the other two ‘liberants’ around it. It shifted its weight, placing its clawed hands on the glass as if testing its confines, its tail curling and uncurling in slow, deliberate movements. The audience murmured uneasily, and even the presenter seemed reluctant to linger too long on the creature's unsettling presence.
Barely more than a wisp in the adjacent glass tank, the tiny winged figure perched elegantly on a moss-covered stone. The soft, graceful contours of its delicate body seemed almost too fragile for the material world. The skin, a pale lavender hue, blushed faintly with an inner, almost otherworldly light. Gossamer wings, translucent and fine as cobwebs, fluttered with iridescent hues that shifted like whispers of color under the bright lights, as though they existed only in dreams. Dark, almond-shaped eyes observed the audience with an air of quiet detachment, serene and distant. With a fluid flick of the wrist, it raised a hand, and the air around seemed to spiral outward in slow, graceful arcs, tracing intricate patterns that melted away as quickly as they formed.
Beside it, the wiry blue creature, hunched and thin, tapped the face of its display with clawed fingers. Its pointed ears twitched sporadically, and its wide, intense eyes flicked about the room with a predatory alertness. The creature’s skin had a sickly, pale blue tint, its lips twisted into a jagged smile, though there was no warmth in it. Every now and then, it would flex its fingers, its movements jerky as if it were preparing for something, or waiting for the right moment.
A hint of vertigo made Rosa closed her eyes as the presenter’s tone grew almost reverent. "The fascinating part is how these beings, though entirely digital in origin, have developed unique characteristics. They are more than simulations. They are evolving in real time, adapting to their surroundings, their senses becoming increasingly refined. The complexity of their existence surpasses the limits of traditional avatars. They are indeed liberants."
As Rosa listened, the presenter’s voice gradually became background and her mind seemed to cloud over with grey mist before suddenly it was filled with a single, unblinking eye - so close it seemed to engulf her, her face reflected in the pupil, distorted and small. Then, a man’s pale face emerged, leaning over her, his lips moving soundlessly, shadows rippling unnaturally across his features.
Rosa blinked, and the glass cases snapped back into swirling focus. Her head swam as the figures in the displays gradually steadied, her vision normal again. Rowan tugged at her sleeve, grounding her, and Selina’s voice cut through the haze. “If I ever end up in one of these boxes, just pull the plug.”
Rowan turned away, his focus shifting as he began grooming the fur on his forearm with exaggerated care. Rosa, still unsettled, stared at him, the weight of the moment clinging to her.
The presenter, oblivious to the discomfort in the room, pressed on with his pitch. "What you’re seeing here are not mere avatars… not just simulations, but tangible beings - life itself rendered from data - exact replications of the real thing - liberated from the digital confines of virtual reality. With RealityStep's Fourth Wall innovations, we’re not just recreating; we’re merging. Imagine narratives unfolding around you in real time, their threads woven seamlessly into the fabric of your everyday life. Soon, the very concept of a barrier between the digital and the physical will be meaningless."
Selina glanced at Rosa, noting the tightness of her jaw as her gaze lingered now on the rat-like creature. “Whatever they’re selling,” Selina whispered, “it doesn't sound healthy.” Rosa physically started at the comment and Rowan, unable to help himself, released a sharp bark of alarm, startling a few attendees around them.
The presenter’s smile faltered slightly as a hand shot up from the back of the room. A man in a six foot tall pink rabbit avatar stood, his face blank. "Since this is all just virtual reality, surely these are just a bunch of avatars like the rest of us!”
“I assure you that what you are seeing are exact representations of fourth wall transcendent corporeals that soon we will…”
Another voice, this time from an orange woman in a party dress, near the front, cut in before the presenter could respond. "Soon? That's twice you've said soon. So you haven't actually…”
Another voice called over the woman,” If they’re physical, what are they made of? Are they safe to be around?"
"How do you ensure they stay... under control?" a fourth voice asked, the nervous undertone unmistakable.
"And what happens to them when they’re no longer needed?" someone else shouted out, louder this time, their words reverberating through the uneasy crowd.
The presenter raised his hands in a placating gesture, his practised enthusiasm ready for such things. "These are excellent questions, and I assure you, all ethical considerations have been…"
Before Rosa and Selina could hear any more, a tall figure emerged from the crowd at their side. The man exuded precision: his suit perfectly tailored, threaded with fine circuitry that gave off a soft blue glow, tracing down to flickering silver cufflinks. His lapel displayed a dark, digital overlay that read Les Pellicules, Director of Special Projects, with a flicker that seemed to scan them as much as introduce him.
Most unsettling, though, was the subtle ocular gear nestled around his eyes - a thin band running along his temples and just beneath his lower eyelids, a faint shimmer hinting at augmented visual displays. His gaze was unnervingly sharp, enhanced by the augmented overlay that likely tagged and processed every detail about them in real time.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted them, his voice smooth and measured. “I’m Les Pellicules, but you can call me Dan. Director of Special Projects here at RealityStep. May I ask who you are?”