“Virtual reality is here!” Was the repetitive slogan I encountered on every TV channel, radio station, and billboard, with happy people in sleek black helmets and big bold letters “N.U.” It was a lie, as all advertising was. Virtual reality had been around for a long time, but it never worked. Not like these companies wanted it too anyways. It always felt gimmicky.

I tuned out the blaring marketing as I walked down the street, carrying my groceries in a brown paper bag. It wasn’t much but it didn’t need to be. I lived alone. My family were long gone. It was just me to cook for.

Looking down and ignoring the people that passed me I trudged along through the intermittent rain, praying that it wouldn’t come down before I got home. The clouds darkened the early spring afternoon, enough to make it feel as if night had come early. The winds tore at my hair and my scarf billowed out behind me, but I didn’t care, my front door was in sight. It’s peeling paint visible even through the gloom.

Fumbling for my keys while balancing the groceries was a challenge with the wind pushing on me, but I braced myself against the door and scraped the key toward the lock, pushing when it touched metal. The key slid into the lock and I twisted, while pushing my shoulder against the door. It was damp and the old wood frequently swelled in its frame.

I half fell as the door opened but caught myself on the small table just in the hallway. The paper bag tore, scattering groceries everywhere.

“Bloody typical,” I exclaimed upon seeing my tomatoes spit seeds all over the tattered rug. I took the key from the door and closed it, locking up behind me. The sudden darkness prompted me to flick the light switch and a naked bulb dimly lit up. Stupid energy saving bulbs.

Kneeling down, I scooped up the split tomatoes and the pasta, which thankfully hadn’t torn, and made my way through the dimly lit hall to the kitchen. It had seen better days. The old oven had rust peeking through the white enamel. The counters weren’t much better, the solid wood scarred with countless knife marks and the odd blackened mark where someone had put hot pans on it. I placed the groceries on the counter and grabbed the metal kettle, took it over to the sink and turned on the tap. Rusty brown water flowed out, at first but it ran clear soon enough. Filling the kettle and moving to the hob. I put it on, listening for the click as the electric ignitor lit the gas.

Above the counters was a small rack that held my pitiful collection of mugs. My favourite was a large chipped white one. That is the one I took down and wiped the dust from it. The kettle started to make that bubbling noise, startling me. I turned the heat up.

Peeling off my coat and scarf, I folded them over the lone wooden chair placed against the dining table. I turned back to grab a teabag out of the pot on the counter and a sugar lump out of the bowl into my cup. As if on cue, the kettle started whistling, steam shooting from the spout in comforting plumes. I grabbed the kettle off the hob and turned off the gas, no need to waste it despite the welcoming warmth it provided in this cold tomb of a house.

Pouring the water into the cup filled my nostrils with the strong scent of tea. A scent that always reminded me I was at home. I didn't drink it anywhere else. It was one of my little rituals. I watching the gentle swirl of brown and the tea infused, letting the familiar calm me from the bubbling anger that going outside provoked in me. My heart slowed and my hands stopped trembling. They only did that at home, where it was safe to show weakness.   I stirred with the small spoon that I left on the side and wrapped my hands around the warm mug. Raising it to my lips, I took a sip and let the strong flavour ease the final tightness in my chest. Time to get cracking.

I walked back into the hall and checked the mail. A few pale envelopes lay on the small mat at the foot of the front door, the energy saving lightbulb finally bright enough to see my name on each, Vincent Relast. Placing my mug down on the table I scooped up the letters and looked through them, bill, bill, bill, and one that wasn’t a bill. I picked up the mug and went back to the kitchen, seating myself on the only chair.

The letters spread out in front of me, I put the bills in a pile for granny’s lawyers to sort out. One of the nice things about my life is the bequest of my grandmother. She arranged things for me, her last heir. As long as I lived in this house, all my bills were taken care off. I still had to give them each bill for them to pay it though. I received a small allowance, enough to live on with occasional extras. Life would be dull without the occasional treat. It left me a great deal of freedom in which to pursue my hobbies.

The not-bill tempted me to open it with its smooth, thick paper envelope. It wasn't a bill, clearly, because there was no logo or return address on it. Rather old style, most things were handled by email nowadays. It was heavy, for a letter at least.

I slid my finger along the small opening at the edge and peeled open the letter, a flash of brightly coloured something greeted me. Pulling the bright thing free and discarding, the envelope gave me a clear look at what it was. It was an invitation.

‘You may have already heard about the recent advances in modern VR. We are Chrysalis; believe we are at the start of a new age of technology.  Our game, N.U., is a revolutionary fantasy themed game. Utilizing the new full dive pod technology, now minimised to stylish helmets, and advanced AI, we have crafted a living breathing world. It’s not just a game. It’s another existence. Your actions or inaction will affect everything. You can be anybody you want to be. The power is in your hands. Will you take the dive?’

The words stood out in a white block superimposed over a picture of an epic battle in front of a city. Mages firing flames from their hands and dragons flying overhead.

My heart raced at the thought of fully functional VR but my head tried to tell me it was a marketing scam. This called for research.

Taking the invitation and my tea in hand, I rose and wandered through to the living room. Here there was no dust. There were sleek couches and even sleeker monitors. I had a massive computer setup. It was here that I spent all of my time. With no one else to share, the house with I took over the living room and turned it into a gamer’s paradise. Taking a seat on the couch, that moulded itself to my body, just enough to be comfortable in any position, I placed down the mug and invitation and pulled the sliding table with its keyboard and mouse. With a touch of a button the monitors came to life filling the room with the bright light and glare I was most comfortable with.  Displays filled with scenes of my last game, some Rpg that had pretensions of grandeur, it was enthralling enough purely for the lore. The combat was clunky and predictable and the main story was so clichéd. I clicked the mouse and opened up the browser, taking a sip of my tea, while it opened all my home tabs.  There were a few of them.

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Typing in Chrysalis and N.U. into the search gave me reams of results, videos, news, interviews with the CEO and more. Too much to ignore.

How did I miss this?

Simple really, I did what I always did: ignored the outside world.

The results showed me plenty of happy gamers, so many that I began to doubt again. I took myself to my oft-checked forum of gamers, the cynical kind that I found some sort of connection with. Not that we ever played together, multiplayer games are so not my thing.

What I saw when the forum loaded amazed me. There were threads everywhere all about N.U. About the helmets and the viability of dive technology. About the AI that powered it. Clicking through, I found much of it was guesswork although there were a few lone posts by people that had supposedly played it.

‘Indistinguishable from reality,’ they said as they gushed about how amazing it was.

They were shouted down and questioned as to how they played it weeks before release. One of them was a beta supposedly. The threads were reaching critical as more and more posts piled up, feeding each other in a frenzy.

This was odd, I thought. Never had I seen the forums like that. Most of the time they gave each game a fair go and then went back to their old favourites.

After hours of research, my eyes were aching and my tea had long since gone cold. Finally I had gone to the chrysalis website and been greeted with an amazing video of the same battle on the invitation. Dragons swept through the ranks strafing fire and ice breath. Mages conjured spires of stone and called lighting from the sky. Warriors made impossible leaps and swung huge weapons. It was at once grand and sweeping and intensely personal as the camera zoomed into the faces of the combatants. Fatigue, grim determination and wild joy mixed with a healthy dose of bloodlust was visible on each blood smeared and dirty face.

Once the video ended, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was filled with frantic energy, so much my fingers twitched and my mouse clicked. I wanted it, with a fervour I never expected.

I gazed at the invitation in my hand and now took the time to wonder why I had received it. I hadn't signed up for anything; I didn't even think it was real beyond a marketing scam before today. I was a game and quite a successful one at that, but not in multiplayer games. Nothing online other than the leader boards of most hours logged, highest completion rates, highest character levels, number of owned artefacts, completed quests. I hated dealing with others. So why did it come to me?

My inadvertent click had brought the screen to the purchase page of chrysalis. A large banner informed me that I could pre-ordered the game but that stocks were limited. Only those with invitation codes would be guaranteed a helmet.

“What code?” I asked myself.

There was nothing visible on the invitation. Looking at it closer, I could see a scale on the dragon was silver, metallic silver, like those scratch bars found on all sorts of gaming things. I ran my thumbnail over it gently and was rewarded with a sliver of peeled off silver and a glimpse at part of a letter.

With far less care now, I scratched away the remaining silver and blew the slivers away, to reveal the code in all its magnifications. I felt like crowing to anyone that would listen, not that anyone could hear me. I did it anyway, letting my excitement get the better of me and taking a few moments to chuckle at the scene I must be making.

I looked back to the monitor and saw in the corner a tiny button saying ‘enter invitation code.’ I clicked and was taken away to a different screen with options and what looked like a lot of fine print.

“Welcome invitation holder. Thank you for choosing to redeem your free VR equipment. You have been specially selected by our team for your contributions to gaming. Some of you are world champion gamers, others famous bug hunters or explorers, others high ranking guild leaders in some of the most famous and successful games of our times. All of you have been chosen carefully and for your contributions to the wider gaming world, we thank you. It is because of this that you have been selected to experience N. U.

There are no special features for you lucky few, besides the free equipment and lifetime subscription to N. U.

Welcome to a whole new universe.”

Under the words was a market place much like any other but this one displayed the various helmets and pods available. Browsing through I found one I liked. It wasn't a capsule, but a bed like thing with cables attaching to the smooth black helmet. It was large enough to fit all 6 feet of me on it with a biosensor and control installed underneath. The top was covered in body moulding foam, much like the sofa I had spent the evening and many others on. All in all, it looks sleek and sexy and it would fit right behind the sofa.

I clicked and received an email alert.  

That was quick.

Opening up my email client hardly took a moment. One thing in my inbox.

‘Delivery of your VR bed and helmet will be within 24 hours, we have your contact details if you have any problems or we need to inform you of anything.

Do not hesitate to contact us.

Chrysalis’

And the order form underneath.

It even gave estimated delivery times as between 8am and 10am tomorrow.

“Woo so much for 24 hours. Hang on,” I said as something occurred to me.

I reread everything and nothing said that invitation holders got early access, which meant that tomorrow the release but that didn't sound right. No, the day after tomorrow was the release day. I must get it in time for the midnight server opening.  

Gazing at the clock on the bottom of my largest monitor, I saw it was nearly 3am. I looked briefly at the frozen screen of my latest game and toyed with the idea of playing until my unit was delivered but a yawn stopped that. I wanted to be at my best for N. U.

I turned off my screens and stood, feeling the numbness in my legs that normally happened after a good session start to make itself knows and stumbled off to bed upstairs.

I drifted off to sleep, after setting my alarm for 7:30am, with my head filled with dreams of dragons and magic.