For the next few days or so, I'd virtually explore the city with Ayer. There were these devices, in a corner of the room I hadn't been in much. Like a computer, but not in many ways I recognized. I told Ayer I didn't know much about technology. They helped set it up for me.

The tour mostly consisted of walking around the streets with our avatars, kind of like a little game, with them pointing out every other thing we passed while I mentally took notes.

It was sort of a mix between Google Earth and one of those open-world exploring games my brother used to watch videos of a lot. Endless empty city roads filled with the ghostly avatars of other people, an almost chilling sight compared to the usual crowds. I wondered where they got pictures of those empty places, the crowds seemed to be a constant from what I'd seen, but then I remembered the quarantine, and found my answer in that.

We spent the most time at museums, since they claimed that was where they spent most of their time anyway. There was so much history to this city alone, it made my head hurt. That building was built in '53, this one was '28, that one is modeled after the architectural designs of some old guy who they described as ancient though I knew was born hundreds of years after me, this one used to be a grocery store but now it's a farm, so many little things that brought this world to life.

I didn't like it. It felt like a story where the writers put too much thought into the world building. Endless amounts of details that had nothing to do with the main story were being thrown at me from every direction. It all felt wrong. Like there was a past to this world it wasn't meant to have. There didn't need to be an intricately detailed backstory for every building on every street, but there was.

It felt too real, and that scared me. This was a real place. Full of people with real lives. It was no story, no painted-on background built only for a play meant to entertain. It was real. And I hated it.

In spite of that though, I continued to learn. I had to, if I was going to make it through this place and get to where I needed to be. As days went on, I was growing more and more sure in my choice to let Ayer teach me about this world. Their knowledge of history was impressive, it was clearly a passion of theirs. They weren't boring either, as most teachers tended to be. They described to me even smaller details that the museum didn't list, did ever switching impressions of famous people that left me confused but made the people around us in the simulator laugh, and just overall had a constant stream of information going on every topic there was.

"How far back in history have you studied? Up to what year?" I asked them once, as we were walking through an area that was modeled after a time only 3 hundred years after my own.

They looked thoughtful for a second, seemed to be counting in their head, then said "Early Earth years, I'd say. Maybe 1700's, but only in certain areas. There's not much from back then left, you know?" I nodded. I knew they liked history, but that was earlier than I'd expected. It got me thinking. What did they know of my time? After my time? Are there any records of back then? Where would I find those? Would they have information on my family?

What happened to them? Were they okay? What if they weren't? What if something bad happened to them?

I shouldn't have let myself think. It sunk downward too fast.

"I'm done for the day..." I mumbled, quickly standing up from the desk. I felt sick. I'd left them. I may never even know what happened to them.

"Oh, alright. Are you doing okay? You sound kind of sick."

I tried to both nod and shake my head at the same time, which just made me dizzy. I took a step towards the stairs to my room, but knew instantly I wouldn't make it. Luckily there was a small trash can in the kitchen, so I ripped off my helmet and vomited in there.

I was sick for a minute or so, paused to test my stomach for a few seconds, then realized I wasn't done and was sick again. I was grateful my hair was short, so it wasn’t very difficult to keep it out of the way.

When I was done, I stood up, and rinsed my mouth at the sink.

"You okay?" Ayer asked as they handed me my helmet. I finished rinsing my mouth and tried to nod, but a sudden headache made me wince.

"Yea." I said slowly, waiting for the pain to fade a little. "Probably just something I ate. Must have gone bad." I continued as I put my helmet back on.

Ayer paused, but nodded after a moment. "That could have been it. I'll order the next meal, and make sure nothings gone, uh, bad. You should probably rest for a bit, we can continue this later."

"Alright. Yea. Bye."

I headed slowly up towards my room, cradling my head slightly to lessen the throbbing pain that had started up, and fell on top of my bed.

In my exhaustion, I was able to forget many things. Forget what I'd learned that day, yes, but also forget about my family, and the grief I know I caused, and about what would have happened after I left. I forgot about suddenly ripping my helmet off in front of my colleague to vomit, a show of weakness I would have rather avoided, and I forgot about the nausea in my stomach and the ache in my skull.

I spent a lot of my time here trying to forget things. Forget how to act like myself, forget to be homesick, forget to be afraid, forget to regret things I could've and should've done. It wouldn't be for very long, was the promise. Soon enough I'd be back where I should be, and it will be okay to remember those things again. But it wasn't okay here. It would have gotten me nowhere here.

I tried to take a nap after that. I fell asleep quickly, a blessing in those times. Unfortunately, I was awake again not two hours later.

How many times have I described my headaches? Would one more be too many? I can't remember. But this was the one of the worst. It was sudden, as if someone had stabbed a knife directly into my skull. One moment I was asleep, the next I was jolting upward, slamming my forehead into the cupboard above me.

I rolled off the bed and onto the floor, where I curled into a ball. I won't describe the headache itself. I don't like thinking about it. It hurt too much.

I was there for a while. I'm still so proud of myself, I never cursed, or yelled, or really made any sound at all. I was just there, in a ball on the floor, waiting for it to pass. I remember feeling blood on my hands, and thinking Ayer really had stabbed me in my sleep. In reality though, I had just cut my head open on the cupboard. I really did believe it though.

Eventually, the headache eased a bit. It still hurt, but now it was more of a dull ache. Accompanied by the pain from the gash in my head, of course, but it was still less than before.

I stood up slowly, and shakily. Everything about me trembled. I was exhausted, despite my nap. I stood there blankly for a minute. I didn't really know what to do with myself. I wanted to go back to sleep, to lay down and be oblivious again, to just not be in the pain I was in, but each time I looked at my bed I remembered the pain that woke me up. Didn't think I'd ever sleep again. And I was right, in a way. I haven't been able to sleep well since then. Well, since I came to this world really, but it got worse after that point.

Blood was leaking down into my eyes. I tried to shake my head to get the blood off, but I just fell over. Blinked and I was on the floor. This wasn't going to work. I needed to clean up the blood, to eat something that wouldn't make me sick, to sleep in a bed I could trust in a world I felt safe in. I needed to be home. But I couldn't get there like this.

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I stood up again, this time doing everything in my power to stop myself from shaking. Later learned I wasn't doing too well.

I went to my bathroom and washed off the blood. The cut was deeper than I'd thought it was. I looked around for bandages, or really anything other than a towel to stop the bleeding with, but found nothing but weird looking gadgets. I decided against using them. They couldn't be safe.

My stomach growled, and I cursed. I wasn't in the mood to be sick. Wasn't in the mood to be hungry either though. Wasn't much in the mood for anything. I just wanted to go back to sleep. So, I grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding, and went back to my room.

I hesitantly laid back down on my bed, still holding the towel to my forehead, and closed my eyes.

"Io!"

I jumped up again. Didn't smack my head into the cupboard above me that time though. Just my wrist. Who's idea was that cupboard anyway?

"Hey Io! Foods ready!"

I'd totally forgotten Ayer was making food. I was glad I didn't go downstairs to look for bandages earlier on, I would have ran into them.

I sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. I guessed I'd passed out at some point, a half hour had passed since I'd last checked. Blood was dry too. I was glad it'd stopped bleeding, but it sure took a while.

I washed my hair in the sink, thankful once again that I'd cut it short. Short hair is so much easier to dry.

I put my helmet back on before heading downstairs. I'd taken it off earlier, so they knew what I looked like, and what my voice sounded like, so there really was no point wearing it while I was there. I guess I just felt safer with it on. It was easier to be Io, when it was Io that people saw. I guess looking back, it didn't really matter what people saw. What mattered was how I acted.

It was just easier with the helmet on. At least in the beginning.

I opened the door, and immediately covered my eyes. I hadn't realized how dark my room was until I opened the door to the way too bright hallway. Instant headache. Hadn't even left my room yet and I was regretting it.

I made my way down the stairs slowly, nursing my head a little and avoiding all direct eye-contact with anything even slightly bright.

By the time I got downstairs, Ayer was already talking. They didn't talk loud, or all that fast, but it was a near constant stream of info. Over time I noticed how they jumped from subject to subject, seeming to be trying to explain everything that happened in history at once. They never mentioned having anyone else to talk to though, so maybe that was it. I should have asked them if they had any other friends.

No. I'm glad I didn't.

"Hurry up and eat it, it's nearly cold, and this kinda food is meant to be served hot. Sorry about the weird look though. Most of the meals I order are based off of old recipes I find in crumbled history books, so it's kind of old-fashioned. Should be good though! It was popular in its time. This recipe is this super old one that kinda died out a few hundred years ago, but it was invented before the Cold Age, so it should be pretty good. I asked for some more current pieces to it to make it seem more like this one food that you might know…" And on and on. Usually didn't mind it though. Meant I didn't have to do much talking myself.

I would have responded, said something about being irritated at being woken up, but I was frozen. They were still rambling, going into detail about this one recipe from this one place, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I was focused entirely on the food set out in front of me.

Not because it was strange, not because it looked disgusting or gross, but because it looked familiar. At least, part of it did. I nearly fell down the stairs at the sight of it.

A pancake. A single, random pancake. No butter, no syrup. Just a pancake. In a bowl. Alongside that, some weird dumpling looking thing. Something else that could have been a fish. Another bowl with maybe-potatoes, and rice. And a few other things I didn't recognize, but that looked its own way of familiar. Tiny portions, all of it, but combined enough for a full meal.

Inside, I was frozen. I couldn't think. Nothing functioned. At the time, I was so confused. Why was this here? How did it get here? Was it them? Why? Out of all the times in history, how did they choose to make food from my own? Did they suspect something? Did they know something?

Forcing away my surprise, I sat down. Grabbed a fork. Stared. Wondered if it was poisoned. Assured myself it couldn’t be.

Ayer must have noticed my hesitance, for they continued on with their explanation.

"I, uh, didn't want you to eat something that had... gone bad again, and I knew if I ordered something strange enough it'd have to be made from scratch, so I grabbed some recipes from this book I was reading and sent them in instead. I know it looks kind of weird, but, from what I heard it was all pretty popular in its time, so, maybe it'll be good?"

I clipped the mod onto my helmet. Realized I should probably say something.

"Weirdest thing I've ever seen," I said, poking it with my fork for added effect. "But I'm hungry, so, whatever."

"Yea... ever."

They said something else, but I can't remember what it was. I was so focused on fighting the headache, the homesickness, the questions about the food, the tiredness, I don't even remember eating half the meal.

Wasn't till I looked down at my plate and saw it half empty that I realized I was on autopilot. I was mid-sentence, saying something I can't remember, when I froze. I'd been moving that entire time. Not only that, I've been eating, talking, all the while being perfectly like Io. I was confused, for a moment, but then I realized I had stopped and tried to go back to what I was doing.

"You alright?" Ayer asked, and I knew I messed up. They must have noticed my sudden freeze. And that I had stopped talking mid-sentence.

"Yea. I'm good. Just tired." What a stupid excuse. I had just woken up. I should have said something better.

"Are you sure? Your wrist has a bruise you know, why haven't you cleared it yet?"

Well, because I had no idea what that meant. How do you clear a bruise? Was I supposed to cover it with something? Again I was confused, but I couldn't mention it. All I could do was shake my head and continue eating, hoping they’d let it drop.

"Is your clearer broken? Here, I'll get mine." They stood up before I could swallow my food and tell them I was alright, and within moments were back with a device that looked exactly like one of the devices in my bathroom. "Here, this one should work. If not I could just call for another one, they should be able to replace it."

They handed the device to me, like someone would hand someone else a Tylenol, and I stared at it blankly. I had no idea how to use that thing. It had a few buttons, but no instructions. I was trapped.

What do I do? Do I try to use it? Is it a medicine? An oil? Will it really get rid of the bruise? What if I just say I’d rather not? Would that be a big deal? Would they start to suspect something’s off?

I knew I had to do something, so I cautiously placed the tip on the back of my wrist, where the bruise was already starting to show. There were only 3 buttons, one red, one blue, and one purple.

A 30% chance, whatever happens.

I figured I’d go with purple. Io’s favorite color.

Close your eyes first though, just in case-

"Wait, why are you-"

"Ah!"

I opened my eyes to see blood leaking out of my wrist, dripping onto the table. From the device a long, thin piece of metal now protruded, stabbing me in the back of my wrist. I jolted backward, ripping the needle-like object out of my hand and throwing it across the table.

"Io! Why did you do that? Haven't you used one of these before?"

I didn't respond. The cut wasn't that large, just a bit deep, and it didn't hurt too much more than anything else, but at the moment I was completely freaked out. Out of nowhere, I was stabbed by something someone said would help me, and I struggled to process what had really just happened.

"Hello? Io? You there? I'm sorry, I didn't know they didn't have these where you're from, I should have warned you."

After a few moments, I snapped out of it, slowly held out my hand to see how bad it was. It wasn't bleeding too badly, and I didn't think it'd leave any lasting damage. I just had to clean it and patch it up to keep it from getting infected.

"That's not good, you're bleeding now, wait, let me disable this real quick... have you really never seen one of these before?"

I looked up from my hand towards Ayer, who was holding the now needleless device in their hands. I didn't know how to respond.

"Sorry, yea, uh, I've never used one of those before... didn't think it'd do that." It was a horrible excuse, and said with such little confidence it's no wonder they didn't believe me. There were so many other things I could have said, but I said that. Is it any wonder I'm where I'm at right now?

"Why didn't you say anything? I could have told you which button to press, it's no big deal. Here, I'll show you, you still need to get rid of that bruise anyway." They leaned forward with the device, but I jumped away.

"No. I'm good, I'll just wash it off and let it go naturally. It's fine, I don't need... that. I'll see you later."

I put my plate in the sink, still nursing my hand, and escaped up the stairs, vowing to never touch one of those devices again.