Outside of our room, a short hallway with a set of double doors at the end and a single door along either side is all that greets me. The one to the left is left open into the room with light spilling out. Assuming that is where we are supposed to be following our mysterious yellow authorities, I directly head towards the opening. If you ain't first, you're last, right?

Within this new room, I see long tables arranged in three rows facing the far wall with benches aligned, it seems like our positions here should correspond to those we woke up in. I don't recall my exact position, and I would bet my shoes that most of the other people don't, either. Luckily, I notice that each seat has a small screen and is currently displaying the name and face of each person. When were these photos taken?

I find my seat and place my parcel on the table while looking around. There's nothing remarkable about the room beyond the furnishing. The two yellow authorities- minions, for now- are standing casually in the front of the room, but I can't really read them with their faceplates on. Looking in their direction feels like I'm in primary school staring at the administrators monitoring the lunch room. Feeling uncomfortable with their stillness, I divert my attention to my fellows as they continue to enter the room. Everyone shuffles into the room without much fuss, some looking more numb than others, but everyone seems to be following the obvious seating assignments without much trouble. Simple actions, simple decisions, help regulate the initial panic response.

A brief tone of feedback, not nearly as long or high pitched as the one earlier, accompanies the last person sitting in their assigned position. Once it fades away, everyone looks to the front of the room where the minions have finally taken some action. Once more, they raise a wrist to their faceplate and begin speaking to us. "Welcome, everyone. We are your stage one group leaders. From now until the completion of this stage, we will offer guidance, advice, and training to everyone, while also competing alongside you to ascend to stage two." What are these stages?

"I am your primary guide, and I am assisted by your support guide. Should anything happen to either, or both, of us, no further guide will be provided for your group for the duration of stage one." How do we keep track of which one is the primary and which is the support?

The support guide- minion- steps away from the front of the room to sit at a desk while our primary guide continues with his lecture. "It is my duty to ensure that you are prepared for the competition both mentally and physically. I will demand the best from all of you, just as I demand it from myself. I will not give up on you, even if you have given up on yourself. Not all of us will reach stage two, but together, each of you has the ability to do so. Open your parcels, and spread the contents on your desk in the manner depicted on your screens." This feels oddly familiar.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I crack open the packaging and begin to withdraw item after item from what appears to be a vacuum packed standard assortment of items. Interestingly, this entire process feels extremely similar to the initial disorientation of Parris Island when I first joined the Marines. Whoever is in charge here is definitely trying to use the same tactics to reinforce the authority of these minions. Fortunately, or unfortunately, most of my peers seem to be more willing to go along with the flow than try to figure out what is going on. I didn't sign up for this.

I quickly arrange my items according to the layout on the screen, verifying the items are all accounted for. Once finished with the task, my mind turns back to pondering where I am, how I got here, what's going on, and what is this competition. This feels too much like recruit training to be some gameshow. If I were on some new reality competition, surely I would remember all the administrative proceedings leading up to arriving on location. If my peers were less- no that's not fair.

If my peers were more military minded, they wouldn't be so utterly clueless right now. Since they are clearly not demonstrating military mindsets, though, I am certain this is not some clandestine recruitment operation for some super secret squirrel organization. Hell, even I wouldn't be on their radar, anyway. I'm by no means qualified to enter that world- through training, education or experience. Not a gameshow, not secret recruitment, then what?

Waiting for the painstaking process of the slowest in my group to arrange their items, I shake off the reluctance I have to buck the system and stand up from my seat to address the minions. "You said you're the guide, but you've only been giving us tasks like a drill instructor. Who are you, where are we, why are we here, and how did we get here?" I feel everyone's eyes land on me as I speak up. Expressions range from small satisfaction that someone has asked what's on everyone's mind to incredulous fear that I have taken some action not specified by these assumed authoritarians.

The primary minion turns to face me fully, seeming to consider my words before raising his wrist to his faceplate once more. "I am a virtual construct acting as primary guide for your group. You are all in the competition virtual environment. You are here to compete for the ultimate reward- to relive your life with all of your accumalated knowledge from the beginning. You arrived here once the Universe scanned the minds of everyone on Earth and selected everyone fully mentally and physically developed to compete for this chance at reliving their life. Now, please sit and complete the orientation."