Five Hours Previous

Luke leaned back in his chair, satisfied with a job well done as the jubilant sounds of his teammates whooped and cackled through his headset. Finally, they'd managed to complete the Cantabria Mansion Siege on Impossible difficulty. Months of planning, trial and error, and ‘aggressive internal-diplomacy’ had all come to fruition on a glorious wednesday evening. They were among the elite now, the community held this challenge in the highest regard, this triumph would put their little group on the proverbial map.

He took a wistful glance over to the alarmclock across the room, it flashed 22:37 in defiance at his hopeful gaze. There would be no more gaming tonight, it was a work day tomorrow after all.

The sound of gunfire brought his attention back to the screen as one of his friends sprayed bullets indiscriminately around the room their characters were standing in. Another pulled the pin on a grenade and held it in his hand for the full five seconds, the explosion launched him across the room before he stood up again with the post-game invincibility finishing the mission gave them. A moment later the screen began to fade to black and the sounds faded. Luke waited patiently for the after action report screen to appear but nothing happened, the darkness maintained its pixel empire. Odd, he thought.

“Anyone else stuck in the void?” He asked.

“Yep.” Riptide responded. “No one expected us to beat this, even the game is hurting itself in confusion.”

Luke folded his arms and waited. A small realisation made him look around, the room was slightly darker then he was used to, was the lightbulb going?

“Well, I’m going to bed, my eyes are being weird.” Whim’s tired drawl crystalised his issue, perhaps he should get some sleep as well. Statistics could wait until the morning.

“Yeah my eyes are being weird too, it’s like I’ve lost the corners.” Riptide answered, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

Well this he didn’t like. Luke’s eyes flicked back to the still dark screen and he froze. There, in the corners of his vision, an inky blackness was swimming into view. Luke closed his eyes and shook his head a couple of times but when he opened them again it was still there. He felt his heart rate increase as his brain struggled to make sense of what was happening, the pools in the corners reached out and grew to form a thick black border.

“Guys my eyesight’s fucked what’s going on?” Pavejack’s voice cut in, the teenager was panicking.

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“I don’t know but I sure as hell don’t like it!” Boats shouted as the sound of him jumping up and knocking his chair over jumbled the airwaves.

Luke’s eyes widened as much as they could in a vain attempt to gather more light as the darkness pressed in closer. His hands gripped the arms of his chair as he began hyperventilating.

“Am I dy-” He began before the darkness suddenly rushed into the centre and he felt sound and sensation melt away into eerie silence.

Time passed in its favourite manner, agonisingly slowly. Luke was aware that he was alive, he could feel his body moving at his command but he couldn’t be certain in the disorienting black. Gravity was … present. He knew that it was affecting him but no matter how hard he focused he could never quite grasp a sense of up or down.

The sensation of his eyelids sliding across his eyes without effect was unnerving to say the least. Nevertheless it was proving a useful anchor against the storm of panic and anxiety waging a silent war inside his stomach. All the while, blink to blink, time passed.

His breath caught in his mouth as he noticed a slight change. There was a smudge on the horizon, the faintest mote of light fighting its way into vision. For now it was weak, but it seemed to be growing stronger all the time. Luke hadn’t been this excited to see grey in the distance since one torturously hot family holiday to the Isle of Crete when he was twelve years old. He stared dumbstruck as the grey lightened, he could feel that his arms were stretching towards it but now he could actually see them. Colour rushed towards him in a chaotic wave, he saw shape, texture, greys blues and yellows danced and melded into each other in hypnotic patterns.

Luke stared for as long as he could but the brightness quickly became too much to bear. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face into the crook of his elbow. A rushing sensation overwhelmed him before sensation returned to his body in a flash. He could feel sunlight on his skin and a light breeze tickled his cheek. The soft crunch of gravel underfoot greeted his first nervous step, giving him the confidence to finally look around.

He found himself standing underneath a wide blue sky studded by small wispy white clouds. The sunlight was strong despite its low position in the sky but whether that meant morning or evening he couldn’t tell. The ground was a mixture of pale grey gravel and dusty brown soil, sparse hills littered the horizon and hardy plants ranging from grass tufts to head-high shrubs dotted the landscape. Slowly, Luke became aware of a heavy weight in his arms and on his shoulders.

He looked down and almost swore. A sleek yet heavy rifle sat comfortably in his hands. He was wearing a grey and tan striped camouflage uniform complete with twin dark orange bands across the top of the sleeves. A heavy backpack with the same pattern covered his back and his chest was criss-crossed with straps and pouches. A moment of realisation struck him, this was the exact equipment load he had been using in the game.

A startled noise nearby made him jerk his head up from his torso. Seven other identically dressed men stood in a loose circle with him, faces he vaguely recognised stared at each other and their new surroundings. Each was equipped similarly to him with some occasional differences. One by one they turned to face the centre of the group and awkward silence reigned.

Then the shouting started, from which nothing particularly valuable could ever be gained.