As Rosa and Selina stepped out of Les Pellicules’ office, Rosa glanced at Selina, her gaze heavy with a mix of resolve and lingering doubt. "Well, that was very weird. Still, we've got what we need. Time to head back," she said, trying to steady her breath. The conversation that had flipped on its head once Art arrived disturbed her, a cold knot of unease she couldn't shake.
Selina hesitated, her eyes scanning the surreal expanse of the RealityStep virtual complex as though expecting Art to materialize from the walls. The way the conversation had gone wasn’t just strange, it was like the entire narrative had been rerouted, and they’d been pulled into something... off-kilter. "Agreed," Selina muttered, rubbing the side of her temple. "That guy showing up - he's beyond weird."
Rosa's mouth tightened into a thin line, her own thoughts mirroring Selina’s. It was as if Art had been the catalyst for something, as if it were a pre-arranged glitch... Rosa shuddered involuntarily.
Selina shifted her focus from the immersion of the virtual environment, sinking back into the tactile pull of her physical body. The weight of her arm, the soft press of the gloves against her skin, and the faint hum of her pulse reminded her she was real. Slowly, she raised her hand, the embedded haptic sensors coming alive with a subtle, electric buzz that tingled through her fingertips. "Exit NexUs," she said, with the tone of someone trying to steady herself against a growing storm. Her voice broke the stillness, and the reality around her flickered, ready to dissipate.
A faint ripple passed through the air, the simulated environment shuddering slightly as Rosa followed suit, placing her fingertips in the appropriate place and echoing the command: "Exit NexUs." A soft hum enveloped them, a shimmering wave of light cascading down the walls and floor as the world fragmented into gradients of gray. Rosa’s virtual body warped, growing translucent, the edges of her form blurring as if she were being erased.
"Disconnecting in 3... 2... 1..."
The final disconnection jolted Rosa like a sudden fall. For a moment, the world felt unmoored - gravity askew, the boundaries of reality blurred and indistinct. Her senses scrambled, caught in the liminal space between simulation and reality. It was as if she were untethered, floating in a void where time held no meaning.
The enveloping gray shifted, thickened, turned to mist. It clung to her skin and lungs, cold and heavy. A sharp scent of wet bracken and damp earth filled her nose, pulling her further into the haze.
For a moment a valley stretched before her, its muted colors washed out, drained of vibrancy, as though it too were waking from a dream it barely remembered.
In the fog a structure, or the faint silhouette of one. Rosa blinked. She knew this place. Somehow. She just couldn’t recall why. She imagined herself closer.
A mournful cry pierced the stillness - a curlew’s call. Rosa froze, her chest tightening as the sound echoed.
"Rosa?"
Selina’s voice snapped her back. Her eyes flew open, the light of the room piercing through the lingering haze. She gasped, clutching the arm of her chair as the VR headset disengaged with a soft hiss.
"Hey, you alright?" Selina asked, leaning over her, concern etched into her brow.
Rosa reached up and pulled off the sleek, self-moulding device, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah," she said, forcing herself to breathe deeply. "Just - disorientation, I think." She rubbed her head, but an image of recurring spirals on the walls of the building lingered, curling inward like a secret, refusing to be forgotten.
“Ugh, that always feels weird,” Selina muttered, her voice breaking the quiet. She set her headset aside as though it had personally offended her. “You ever notice how you feel too tall when you first get back?” She shook her hands out, flexing her fingers. “And my gloves - I swear they squeezed tighter coming out.”
Rosa gave a small smile but said nothing, pretending to focus on unclipping her own haptic gloves. They resisted slightly, as though reluctant to let her go, before peeling away with a faint static crackle. The sensation of air touching her bare palms felt odd - less real than the artificial sensitivity the gloves had provided moments before. She placed them neatly on the coffee table and leaned back in her chair, letting out a long breath.
Her gaze drifted around the room, its familiar clutter now seeming slightly alien, as though it belonged to someone else. The unread books beside the armchair, the framed photos on the wall, the mug she’d left on the side table that morning - all of it looked simultaneously comforting and unnervingly static. The hum of the aircon filled the silence, grounding her in its ordinariness.
Selina rubbed her forehead. “You good?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “You look like you’re about to float off.”
Rosa shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just… the transition. It’s hard to shake the feeling that this isn’t real, you know?”
Selina snorted softly. “Yeah, well, real or not, it’s definitely colder out here. Your heating system needs a boost.” She pulled her sweater tighter around her shoulders, already moving on from the conversation.
Rosa didn’t respond, still lingering in the liminal space between the virtual and the physical. The thought Dan had planted during their last moments in NexUs echoed in her mind: “...difficult to know what real life is.”
Selina, oblivious to Rosa’s internal spiral, clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough post-VR existentialism. Things got weirder than expected, but we’ve got work to do.” She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and began scrolling, her thumb moving in quick, practiced motions. “Let’s plan our return trip to MASS. If we leave early tomorrow, we’ll beat the worst of the traffic.”
Rosa nodded slowly, forcing herself into the present. “Yeah.” She stood, stretching, feeling the stiffness in her muscles from sitting too long. “We’ll need to make sure we have a thought-out strategy. We really weren't as prepared as we should have been for that last episode.”
Selina paused, glancing at her. “You mean something beyond just showing up and hoping they don’t bury us in red tape?”
Rosa crossed her arms, her brow creased. “No, I mean protecting ourselves. Ensuring we come back safely. Whatever we do or say there, we have to keep control of our narrative. They’ll be ready for us this time.”
Selina nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. We could do with some kind of insurance.”
The sound of soft footfalls interrupted her, followed by a low, raspy yip. Rosa turned to see Georgie slinking into the room. His sleek auburn coat shimmered in the afternoon light, and his dark, intelligent eyes darted around as if assessing the room’s safety. He padded toward Rosa, his movements quick and fluid, the slight bounce in his gait betraying his wariness.
“Georgie,” Rosa murmured, crouching slightly as he approached. He stopped just short of her, sniffing the air before darting to the coffee table. With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, he grabbed one of the haptic gloves between his sharp teeth and bolted to the corner of the room.
“Hey!” Selina exclaimed, half-laughing.
Rosa sighed, shaking her head. “He’s obsessed with anything new. Just give him a minute - he’ll probably stash it behind the sofa.”
As expected, the wary fox carefully wedged the glove into the narrow gap between the sofa and the wall, then sat back on his haunches, his bushy tail curling neatly around his paws. His sharp ears flicked as he looked back at Rosa, clearly expecting some kind of response.
Selina smirked. “At least he didn’t chew it to bits. That’s restraint.”
A wry smile tugged at Rosa's lips. “He’s the least predictable thing in this house, and that’s saying something.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Selina leaned back, her expression more serious now. “Speaking of unpredictable, are we doing the right thing with MASS? Are we already in way over our heads?”
Rosa glanced at Georgie, who had begun grooming his fur, unbothered by their conversation. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice low. “But I don’t think we have a choice. We just need to stay one step ahead of them - and make sure we’re the ones asking the questions. At least there'll be no Art to deal with.”
Selina tucked her legs up on the couch, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “Okay, so, like, what if we wrote something? Like, I don’t know, a report or a letter or whatever, and gave it to someone we trust. Then if things got weird, they could send it to the authorities. Or, we could sort of hint to MASS that we have it, just to make them think twice about messing with us? Pretty much like we did in RealityStep.”
Rosa nodded absently, her thoughts drifting back to the unsettling words of Dan: “There are... so many levels of reality. It's becoming difficult to know what real life is.” She didn’t like the implication. It burrowed into her mind, creating a nagging sense of doubt she couldn’t shake. Reality had felt so fluid in Infinity NexUs.
“We need answers. We find Gum, we figure out how he’s connected to all of this - and then we see what is going on with that AI.” She paused, thinking of LumiGard, its dispassionate voice and the unsettling glitches she'd witnessed and then the bizarre clues it had fed them in the virtual attic. “There’s so much they’re not telling us, Selina. Something so much bigger.”
Selina gave a small snort of disbelief. “Like what? You really think this is all connected to some grand AI conspiracy?”
Rosa hesitated, Selina’s scepticism cutting through her thoughts. A part of her agreed - this was starting to sound unhinged. She rubbed her temple, the weight of it all pressing down. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “But if it is... maybe it’s too big for us to handle. Maybe we should just - hand it over to the authorities.”
Selina raised an eyebrow, her expression caught between amusement and caution. “And what exactly would we tell them? That a monkey has been leading us on a wild chase, wants us to find its friend, and is somehow the key to dismantling an AI? They’d have us committed.”
Rosa sighed, the words stinging with a harsh truth. "Still... this isn’t what we signed up for. And I keep wondering - what if we're making it worse by trying to fix it ourselves?"
Selina was about to reply when her face fell. “Wait... where’s Rowan?”
Rosa froze, her heart skipping a beat as the realization hit. “Oh my goodness, Rowan!” she gasped, her voice high and tinged with alarm. She quickly turned in a circle, her eyes searching the room as if she might spot the black macaque in the air. “He disappeared in RealityStep. How could we forget him?” Her stomach lurched. “Did we leave him behind?”
Selina’s face mirrored her concern, her hand instinctively reaching up to push her hair out of her face. “Oh no... we left him, didn’t we?”
Rosa rushed out the door, her stomach tight with guilt as she hurried down the garden path, Georgie trailing after her with quick, graceful steps, curious about the commotion. The crisp autumn air felt fresh in her chest and the grey sky hung low, threatening rain. Selina trailed behind, hopping awkwardly as she tried to get a shoe on properly, the sound of her frustration mingled with the distant crash of waves against the cove below.
Rosa skidded to a stop at the shed at the far end of the garden. Its door hung slightly ajar, creaking faintly in the breeze. It was empty. She leaned in, gripping the wooden frame, her voice taut. “He’s not here.”
Georgie sniffed around the shed’s entrance, his nose brushing the ground as he investigated.
Selina arrived seconds later her gaze darting around the garden. “Maybe he’s hiding?” she suggested weakly, though the doubt in her voice was clear.
Georgie prowled forward, his nose twitching as he slipped inside the shed. His usual playful energy was gone, replaced by an eerie stillness. He paused just past the threshold, ears flat against his head, his eyes scanning the shadows in an unnerving, deliberate way.
Rosa’s stomach tightened. “Georgie?” she called softly, but the fox didn’t respond. Instead, he moved further into the darkened interior, his body low to the ground, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He sniffed the floor, his breath shallow, and then froze, his eyes fixed on something in the far corner.
Rosa’s heart skipped a beat as she cautiously stepped forward. “Georgie, what is it?”
Without warning, Georgie let out a low growl, a sound that sent a chill crawling up Rosa’s spine. His tail bristled, but he didn’t move from his spot. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she took another step closer, her voice barely a whisper. “Georgie...?”
Suddenly, Georgie snapped his head toward her, his eyes wide and unsettlingly glassy. He tilted his head as if examining her, then bolted out of the shed, almost knocking Rosa over as he raced past her, disappearing into the underbrush.
Rosa stood frozen for a moment, her breath catching in her throat, the feeling of unease creeping heavily over her. What had gotten into him?
“What was all that about?” Selina breathed.
They searched the shed, the garden, and even ventured as far as the cove, their hope gradually dwindling as though swallowed by the roar of the tide. Georgie didn't reappear during all this time.
As the grey sky darkened, Rosa stood again at the shed’s entrance, staring into its emptiness. “He’s gone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How could he just vanish?”
Selina leaned against the trunk of a gnarled tree. “What if… what if he never got out of NexUs?” she said hesitantly. “Could that happen? I mean, he wasn’t connected to the system - at least, I don’t think he was.”
Rosa bit her lip, her thoughts a storm of questions. “He wasn’t plugged in. He wasn’t even supposed to be part of it. But… maybe NexUs is doing something we don’t understand.”
Georgie slunk out of the bushes to Rosa’s side, tilting his head as he gazed up at her, his golden eyes bright with curiosity. She reached down to scratch behind his ears, her fingers trembling slightly. “We’ll figure this out - somehow,” she said softly. “We have to.”
Selina nodded, but the unease in her expression lingered as they turned back toward the house. The evening chill wrapped around them, and for a while, neither had anything more to say.
With nothing else that could be done for the day, Selina left. Rosa remained in the stillness of her living room. She sat there for a long time, the virtual world of NexUs lingering at the edges of her mind, its surreal pull refusing to fade.
After a while, she stood up, feeling tired. She turned off the lights and made her way to the bedroom. Slipping under the covers, she tried to let the pull of sleep take her, but it was slow in coming. Her thoughts danced in restless circles, chasing at shadows she couldn't quite catch. Gradually they became dreams.
The shadows thickened and furled, became Rowan, skittering rats, a tangled wood. Then, a mobile theatre loomed before Rosa, its wagon-like exterior impossibly tall and convoluted. Now, under a blood-orange sky, its roof towered over her in a complex array of overhanging eaves and warped dormer windows peering out like watchful eyes. Each edge and curve of the structure was outlined by the flickering light of swinging lanterns, and the black velvet curtains of its tiny stage shimmered with a sheen that reminded Rosa of oil on water.
She moved toward it, pulled by an inexplicable need, her boots crunching over a forest floor littered with brittle twigs and curling leaves. The skeletal trees reached lazily toward her, their gnarled branches swaying as if alive. Moonlight shone above her, piercing the branches, its glow casting distorted, looping shadows that seemed to writhe across the ground.
Ahead skipped Rowan, his movements liquid and nimble. His crest twitched with excitement, and his head turned to check she followed. Rosa tried to call to him, but no sound escaped her lips.
The door creaked open, barely large enough to enter. Rowan dashed through though, and Rosa followed, stooping to fit her shoulders into the tight space. Inside, the theatre felt impossibly small, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and polish. The low ceiling pressed down on her, the stage filled the place, and the curtains hung in stiff folds, too close to the edges, as if there was no room for anything more. It was as though the very weight of the room's confinement had seeped into every corner, making the air heavy and difficult to breathe.
Rowan was nowhere to be seen.
A figure stepped forward from the shadows, and Rosa gasped as she saw the shape before her - her own reflection, but not quite. In form it appeared identical, but darkened by the dim light, cast into something just beyond recognition.
The double looked gaunt, her face lost and anguished. Her eyes burned with a feral intensity, and in her hands, she held a shard of glass, its jagged edge catching and distorting the dim light.
“You don’t belong here,” the double hissed, her voice brittle and thin. She lifted the shard, angling it toward Rosa, who instinctively stepped back, her feet heavy as stone.
Behind the double, the outline of a building emerged as if from deep mist, leaking through the walls of the theatre. Its fog coiled outward, and the walls of the tiny theatre buckled under the strain. Scratches covered the walls, expanding, spiraling outward, becoming eye shapes - hundreds of them. They blinked slowly, their gazes pinning Rosa in place, burrowing into her, seeing through her. A suffocating sensation of trypophobia swelled in her, as if the eyes were not just watching, but crawling beneath her skin, tightening around her chest.
She was suddenly among a crowd, though she hadn’t seen or heard their arrival. Faceless figures surrounded her, their whispers and laughter swelling into an oppressive hum.
A figure on stilts emerged from the throng, its impossibly long legs striding over the faceless crowd. It stopped directly in front of her, its eyeless mask gleaming in the lantern light. When it spoke, its voice cut through the cacophony like a blade.
“You’re being watched,” it intoned. The words reverberated in her chest, rippling outward until the theatre itself seemed to shudder.
The faceless crowd turned toward her, their blurred features stretching into grotesque approximations of eyes. They formed a circle around Rosa, their whispers spiraling inward toward her as the theatre collapsed into itself, swallowing her whole.
Rosa woke with a start, her chest tight, the faint scent of wet bracken still clinging to the air around her. It was light outside.
It was as though the night had passed without her, slipping through her fingers. Tomorrow felt like it shouldn't be here yet.