A cloudy winter dusk sat gloomily on the horizon. Droplets rolled down misted windows, cutting into the condensation with transparent trails. Two drops met, racing against parallel paths before finally twisting to join one another.

A boy watched this scene with a bored fascination, tapping his hand impatiently against a wooden desk. He sat in front of a dimming laptop, lines of code dancing across the screen. Occasionally, he would type in a word or two, but would simply stare at the letters with disinterest. It was as though he had seen this spectacle a thousand times before, in a million different worlds. He simply sat, waiting for something.

The digital clock beside his hand slowly flickered as the minutes racked up. The boy leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms and yawning.

[ 9:20 PM ]

Suddenly, a light ding sounded from his phone, and he grabbed it excitedly. Tapping on the screen with fervency, his eyes reflected the bright display as he pored over it.

[ Emile: hurry up and join, i just got off work ]

[ Emile: idiot ]

He grinned and hurriedly stood, slamming down his laptop face as he picked up a thin electrode pad from his nightstand. The boy lifted his dark hair and pressed the pad to the back of his head, smearing it on with two fingers. The tape stuck on, stubbornly clinging to a few of his ebony strands, but he paid no mind to it.

He laid down on his bed and reached for a small square console beside his bed. As he pressed the power button, he could feel his consciousness fading out. Adjusting his body and making himself comfortable, he finally closed his eyes.

“Welcome to Oneiro: The Land of Dreams.”

This was Oneiro, a virtual reality adventure game that was played while the user’s physical body was asleep. It had been released just a month prior, and the popularity was unprecedented— it was the first of its kind, and although people were initially apprehensive, the stunning number of glowing reviews drew in a massive crowd. At this point, sales had already reached over ten million and counting.

Governments, medical institutions, and tech companies alike all endorsed the game. The parent studio which created Oneiro called it an “amalgamation of all of our efforts, across industries and fields.” It was the gaming industry’s magnum opus, with several major studios coming together in collaboration.

Needless to say, it was a masterpiece.

The boy was met with a white expanse, and a popup appeared in front of his body.

[ Login as Arc? ]

[ Yes ] [ No ] [ Switch Account ]

Arc pressed "Yes" and felt his body melt into an avatar. A familiar world materialized in front of his eyes— fantasy creatures flew above in a cloudless turquoise sky, and wooden buildings stood above stone-paved streets. Players and NPCs alike milled around, their voices lacing together into a noisy chatter.

“Arc!!” A female voice rang out, “You’re finally here.”

Arc turned and looked towards the figure jogging towards him. “Em,” He waved at her, grinning. “How was work?”

“Ughh. Let’s not mention work right now.” Em sighed, her long hair framing her delicate face. Before Arc could ask what had happened, her eyes brightened. “Oh, right!” She pulled out a small brochure, opening it hurriedly. “Look at the patch notes. Apparently they made it more streamer-friendly.”

Arc turned his head curiously, glancing at the small sheet of paper. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“They’re adding features where people can stream directly from the game instead of having to download some expensive third-party software.” Em looked up towards him, eyes shining. “...sooooo, I was thinking of getting into streaming.”

“You? Stream?” Arc couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Em scowled, crossing her arms.

“Well, you can be pretty funny sometimes, so that’s helpful. But…” His voice dropped off.

Em raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “But?”

“Your personality is…”

“GODDAMNIT EM!” Arc shouted, fuming. “STOP HOGGING ALL THE DAMN LOOT!”

“AHAHA, JUST TRY AND STOP ME!”

Arc pushed away the brief flashback to last week. “...It could use some help.”

“Huh?” Em blinked at him cluelessly.

“Nevermind.” He sighed, internally praying for any future viewers who were drawn in by her looks. Rest in peace. Your donations aren’t coming back.

A message screen appeared in front of his avatar.

[ Cass: Where are you guys? ]

[ Arc: we’re in medi village ]

[ Arc: what’s up? ]

[ Cass: I’m here with the other party members, we should go grind for the event. ]

[ Arc: aka us carrying you guys? ]

[ Cass: kinda ]

[ Cass: well ]

[ Cass: I’m a good tank right ]

Arc laughed audibly. Em peered over his shoulder, reading his texts. “Are we partying as Abbrv today?”

“Yeah,” Arc nodded, closing his messages. Their party of five was called Abbrv— the abbreviation of the word abbreviation— mainly because every one of their names was some kind of shortening of another word. Em, for example, was short for Emilie.

“Whew,” Em stretched her arms, “Looks like the rankings are going to go crazy today.” Their party was notorious for leveling at a remarkable rate, in large part due to each member’s ranker status. “How many people do you think we can pass today?”

“Hm, I’d give it ten.” Arc casually scrolled through the ranker list, measuring up each top player.

“Ten?? That’s a big goal to meet, buddy.” Em flicked her wrists as she practiced brandishing her greatsword. Seeing this, Arc lifted up his own rapier from his waist, looking over the iridescent surface.

“Man, you don’t have to keep flexing your sword.” A voice came from behind, and a muscled arm wrapped around Arc’s neck. “We know, it’s got spawn rates of, like, zero point a million percent.”

Arc quickly shot back a response. “I’m not fl—”

“‘I’m not flexing it,’ sure, sure. That’s why you specifically took it out in the starting village filled with newbs just to look at.”

Arc pushed the hand away, snorting. “Whatever you say, Cass.” He turned to face the group behind him and smiled as he saw familiar faces. “Hey, Ger.”

A meek-looking girl waved silently at him with a smile, her staff strapped to her thin figure. To her right stood Cass, a well-built man covered head to toe in leather and metal armor. A tall, sandy-haired individual stood to her left, completely out of it as he stared into the distance.

“Heyyy, Dye, you there?” Em leaned forward and waved her hand in front of his face. “Dyeeeee????? Are you dye-ing?” She snorted. “Get it. Cause, like, dying, but cause his name—”

“We get it,” Cass sighed. “And to think we almost managed to go a day without a terrible pun.”

“Heh,” Em smirked, a satisfied expression on her face.

“Huh?” Dye glanced around. “Were you guys calling for me?”

“Yep. What’s up with you today?”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Dye groaned, rubbing his forehead. Arc grimaced as he prepared for another one of Dye’s usual rants. “Well, this morning, I spilled coffee all over my boss. And then I screwed up the report, so the whole meeting had to be pushed back. And by meeting I mean the executive meeting, so I’m basically just waiting for my two-week notice. Because of that, I had to stay behind for overtime, which meant that I had to miss my date. Then my girlfriend calls me angrily, and guess what, she dumps me because I’m ‘prioritizing work over her.’ So today’s going great.” He squatted down onto the floor. “It’s going great.”

“Man, must suck to suck.” Cass patted his back. “But we’ve got an event to grind for.”

“Wow, you couldn’t be even a bit nice?” Dye glanced up, frowning. “I love you too.”

“Aw, save that for our marriage night.”

“Screw off.” Dye pushed his hand off and rubbed his eyes, a smile finding its way to his face. “...thanks.”

“You’re thanking Cass for that? Man, you’ve gotta find new friends.” Em sarcastically joked, elbowing Arc. “I mean, this guy over here cried when I told him that my cat died.”

Arc’s face flushed up and jumped to correct her. “I didn’t cry, it was the rain—”

“Sure, buddy.”

Ger stood to the side, quietly chuckling. She watched Arc with amused eyes, and he grew more and more embarrassed by the second. Attempting to salvage any face that was left, he raised his hands as he tried reasoning with his friends. “Look, his name was Mr. Fluffy, how could I not cry?”

Dye choked and he shot a look at Em. “Y-your cat was called Mr. Fluffy?”

Em slapped the back of Dye’s head. “Can you blame me? I named him when I was four. It was either that or Meow Meow.”

“Me— meow—” Cass bent over, struggling to breathe. At this point, their whole party was rolling around in laughter. Em couldn’t even hold in a giggle or two herself and broke out in a wide grin.

“Meow meow~” Em mocked, mimicking a cat.

“Stop—” Arc knelt on the floor, gasping. Ger patted his back, smiling ear to ear as she helped him up. Cass and Dye were totally incapacitated, and Cass pounded his fist against the pavement as he tried to pull himself together.

“Look, it wasn’t even that funny.” Em raised her eyebrows, a vaguely teasing smirk on her face.

“But the way you said it—”

“Meoawr~” Arc exaggeratedly copied Em, leaning down towards the pair. They burst out laughing, and by this point, several onlookers watched curiously. In the end, not Arc, Ger, nor Em could keep a straight face, and once again broke out with giggles. This was their Abbrv— a group of elite rankers, but also a group of complete idiots.

After finally composing themselves, they played for a few hours, topping the leaderboards for event points by the end. At half-past midnight, Arc waved goodbye to his friends, and with one last look towards Em’s smiling expression, finally logged off.

The bright background music and cheerful chatter disappeared, and Arc was left with silence. He opened his eyes to see a dark room, faint orange light emanating from under his closed door. Sitting up, he looked around, flinching as he pulled off the painfully stuck-on electrode and tossed it to his nightstand. Before he did anything else, Arc impatiently reached over to his laptop and pushed it open. Seeing a few words on-screen, he sighed and held it tightly closed between his arms. In this position, he perched at the edge of his bed for several minutes, staring at his feet, enjoying the peace of the cicadas’ quiet singing.

A knock came. “Arc, could you go to the convenience store?” His mother asked from behind the door, her voice tired.

“What?” He called out, his voice a bit hoarse from disuse. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Why me?”

She paused. “Your dad isn’t feeling well. Buy some medicine for him. I’ll give you extra money so you can buy some snac—”

“Deal.” Scrambling out of bed, opened the door and greeted his mother. As he strutted down the hallway, laptop still in hand, a door opened.

“Hey. Brush your hair, idiot.” His older sister stepped out and ruffled his hair. “You look like a caterpillar.”

“Stop— okay, I’ll be safe, mom.” Arc waved goodbye as he grabbed his jacket from the coathanger beside the entrance, and pocketed the few dollars he was just handed. Soon, he left home and could feel the adrenaline from earlier wearing off as the fatigue set in. He yawned lazily, stopping every so often just to stretch his neck.

Tomorrow, I’ve got to grind after school. I’m only a thousand points away from being toppled by Hoku. He rubbed his chin. Could I beat the boss with only three recovery potions? One potion cost a thousand gold. What’s my balance again?

The chilly night was damp, and his steps left wet footprints on the sidewalk. A car occasionally passed by in the narrow street, and the suburban apartments watched him quietly amble by. Taking it from under his arm, Arc silently tossed his laptop into a muddy ditch beside the road.

I have to pay attention to my rapier durability. Today, it should have gone down by a fourth… after tomorrow I’ll go to the blacksmith to repair it. Or could I use the quick fix elixir? Does the elixir damage weapons? It costs a lot more, though… but a blacksmith would take three hours to repair it.

Arc waited at a crosswalk, impatiently watching the traffic light. As soon as it signaled for pedestrians to go, he stepped into the street.

Tomorrow, I should also take a look at the new systems. If the exploits can’t be made anymore, I’ll have to change my method of atta—

A bright white light shone from his right. Arc turned to face it and saw a pair of glowing eyes barreling towards him.

Eyes?

Those aren’t eyes.

—

Intermittent images faded in and out. Bloodied hands, shouts, a crushing noise. Is that me?

Cries, a siren, shattering glass. Why was it so red? Was that the ambulance, or was that my vision?

An aching pain on the back of my neck. Prickling needles. White rooms. What’s that green line?

Yeah, the one on the little screen. The one that beeps. What’s that?

And why is it not moving anymore?

—

A gasp for breath. Eyes widening, pupils shrinking. A chest rising and falling, panic setting in.

Arc shot up, panting as he held his face. He looked around with apprehension, eyeing the surroundings.

I… I’m alive?

No. Something wasn’t right.

“Cian! Time to get going!” His door swung slightly ajar, and a middle-aged woman peered in. “You just woke up? Hurry, it’s almost opening time.”

Arc flinched. Cian? Who’s— “Coming, mom.” Before he could even finish his thoughts, his body spoke on its own and climbed stiffly out of bed. The woman— his ‘mother’— beamed, and closed the door.

Arc regained control of his body. You can’t be serious. He stared at the unfamiliar room and frowned. What the hell is going on? I was just walking around… and I was hit by a truck? Arc kicked his bed in anger, cursing whoever drove the truck. Goddamnit. It was a fucking red light, what sorta shit driver—

“Ugh.” He composed himself, closing his eyes as he processed everything. He wondered out loud, “If I’m not dead, then where am I?” A few possibilities ran through his mind.

The hospital? What sort of hospital looks like this?

Maybe like that one scene from [movie about an American superhero frozen in ice for 70 years] where he wakes up in a fake set?

Nahhhh. No way in hell.

Then was this a dream?

This was some dream.

Arc gasped as he realized something. “Wait. Is this the afterlife? Is that lady from before the grim reaper?” He pinched his eyes shut, waiting for some foreboding spirit to pop out of the closet and say, in a deep voice, “You’ve discovered the truth, now time do die, boy!” but nothing even remotely similar happened. After standing stiffly for more or less ten seconds, he groaned, opening his eyes to reveal a frustrated glare. At least if he was whisked into the afterlife he could cry and beg for redemption, or whatever souls beg for, but here he was entirely left in the dark.

“So dream it is, I suppose.”

Glancing around curiously, Arc noticed a mirror in the corner of his room. He approached hesitantly and when he saw the unfamiliar reflection, stared, shocked. A delicately sculpted face stared back, light brown hair hanging loosely at shoulder length. His body was well-built, and when Arc lifted his shirt, his eyes widened at the abs underneath. “Holy shit. This dream is great.” He poked at the muscle. “Woah.”

“Cian! Hurry up!”

“Coming!” His voice once again popped out without any warning, and Arc frowned. Looking around his room, he spotted a uniform strewn haphazardly upon a wooden chair. Following what his instinct told him, he changed into it and threw his hair into a loose ponytail. Soon, he left his room, all outfitted and ready for... something. At the front door, his ‘mom’ was waiting. Arc, once again, lost control of his body under her gaze. He internally cursed.

“Let’s go. There’s breakfast at the store, eat there.”

“Alright, m-mom.” Arc tried resisting his voice, but it only resulted in an awkward stutter. He cleared his throat and silently followed, sighing.

Wait. What? Did I clear my throat? I can sigh?

Arc tried to resist the movements but to no avail. Yet when he followed the course of what seemed right for his person, he suddenly had more freedom. It was as though, as long as his actions fit a certain character, he could choose what to say and how to act. Otherwise, it would simply be forced onto him.

So do I just do whatever Cian would do? This is a really weird dream.

His mom raised her eyebrows at him. “You’re acting oddly today. Are you sick?”

Arc saw his chance. Before ‘Cian’ could respond, he quickly shot out a “Nope.” A wide grin spread across his face. It really is like that.

“Why are you smiling so much? You’re going to get wrinkles.”

“It’s nothing.” As he finally spoke more and more, Arc’s grin only widened. It was him that was speaking, not anything forcing him, and he grew giddy at this realization.

Goddamn. I am a genius.

The mom looked at him, gently smiling at his excitement. “I don’t know what got you so happy, but make sure that energy stays during work today.” She pushed open the door, and light flooded the room.

Arc was met with a bustling scene. People milled around the stone streets, and fantasy creatures flew in the turquoise sky above. It seemed oddly familiar.

Wait. Isn’t this…

Suddenly, a popup appeared in front of him, and Arc’s eyes grew large.

[ System: Welcome, NPC, to Oneiro: The Land of Dreams! ]