Opening his eyes to pitch darkness, Jack flexed his naked limbs and cracked his shoulders.

A closed marble gate appeared before him. It was white, plain, and ancient looking. It then changed into a gate made of four bananas, altered its material to retain the banana shape but was now rusty iron bars, became normal wood door for a moment, and then finally settled as becoming a stone gate

A dreary sigh escaped his lips. He then laughed, groaned, smiled, and then grimaced. A hard look came upon his face as he attempted to gather his wits about him.

This was a tricky thing, for Jack. In Dive mode, the computers would feed the brain lines of code--code that translates to the perceived world; sight, sound, taste, All the good stuff, exactly like the code the brain would receive from its own body. Then, the brain would send the code to the body to act in certain ways, to move a certain way or to visualize a particular thing. The spiked metals would intercept these signals, send them to the computer instead, and then the computer would send the code back to the brain to add it to its perception.

In this particular Dive mode, however, the code provided was not specific enough. When the program sends the code, it sends the code as “there exists a pathway,” but does not specify what the pathway actually is, where it is, or when it appears. All it possesses is the function.

Ordinarily, virtual worlds provide more specific code that is not easily applicable to different brain interpretations, thus allowing the color red to exist for everyone in the same manner, but in the case of this program, none of that is required; in fact, specific code is not able to be created in this world, as the very nature of its programming depends on the ambiguity of its embedded instructions.

In essence, because Jack was attempting to transfer all the information in his brain-- neurons, and neuron networks-- the channel it is using must be wide enough to allow large amounts of data to pass through.

Because of Jack’s particular case, however, some actions performed are sent and perceived in four distinct ways.

Upon deciding Jack wanted to enter the gate, it opened inwards. Then outwards, and in one case it did not open at all, but rather bursted into smithereens, and the last, which was agreed upon by all sides of Jack, was that the gate was simply gone and that a gaping hole was left in its place. Only then did Jack realize, however, that he was beyond it.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Jack ignored most of what was happening; admitting to their existence would only escalate their presence. He began to tread forward. Or at least, he thought he did. He began to walk, but at some point, he could have sworn he was skipping across the vacant fields of nothingness in an exuberant and totally carefree manner.

Aware that with each step his entire consciousness was being transferred, Jack took extra care not to trip on any non-existent material on his way to the opposing side of the dark field, towards that small glimmer in the pitch nothingness. He had exited his brain, was now in transition between the two. Any mistake could result in a considerable amount of damage to Jack’s mind. Maybe he’ll forget about the horrible time he spent at the Djhan siege, or maybe he’ll forget how to breathe, it could go either way.

It was easy enough, at first, but at some point, each step began to take effort and an unfathomable amount of strength on Jack’s behalf. The black ground crumbled against the immense pressure exerted by Jack’s spiritual body. He felt his legs bulge and strain against the unnatural weight of his body, and walking as if he was submerged under the ocean. Each step he took was a calculated plan; a perfect movement of the body in a balance and force as to not squander a single piece of his endurance.

Excruciating hours went by as Jack pushed against the current. His mind strained against the force exerted by his weight. He began to fear whether Raven actually connected the two brains, as Jack could simply arrive at nowhere exhausted and lost, but no, she would not dare risk all of the knowledge inside of Jack to vanish in such a way. She wanted it, and what Raven wanted she usually got. Emphasis on the “usually,” as Jack was gambling.

He glanced behind him, expecting the entrance to be long off in the distance.

It was mere feet away.

“What the fucking fuck!” He bellowed, flopping his limbs in anger. No longer his body was weighed down, and instead, it became livid with brisk movements “Seriously guys, seriously? You’ve been pushing the other way, the entire time?”

“Wasn’t me,” a whisper replied, four times.

Jack heard a giggle. He was about to truly flip before realizing it was his. “Who else but that--” Jack stopped, his mouth frozen solid.

“Careful, Jack. No names,” Jack calmly whispered to himself, moments away from causing a major mishap. Names had power, even curses. To admit to a presence other than Jack would be no different than empowering it, and in this state of mind, it would be a mighty foolish thing to do. Especially when it came to that particular part of him.

He shook his head, calming his nerves. While he was still the same Jack, his different, smaller parts, had more independence than in the physical world. They were slightly more decentered from his control, effectively causing him to be a lesser version of himself.

“Let’s do this again, Jack,” he said, slapping his cheeks with both of his hands. “It doesn’t have to be this hard.” Once again, turned towards the glimmer of light.

Feet away was a blazing campfire, a wooden log within its illumination.

Jack bit the furry down, swallowed his pride and settled down. He relaxed his nerves as the fire crackled and danced around the wood, spraying tiny embers of light every so often. A calm yet ferocious fire, devouring wood in an unquenchable hunger.

“Marvelous, isn’t?” A man called from across the flames.