I crash through the front doors of the glass skyscraper, stopping right before the unmanned counter. Somehow, the car sustains no damages. I get out and run to the elevators, feeling an urge to move quicker. The elevators move slowly, too slowly, and I feel as if I’m being chased, so I take the stairs down to the lowest level. When I pull open the door at the bottom, the first thing I’m met with is stares. People turn their heads, dropping whatever they’re holding and gaping at me. As if I was never expected. As if I was the cause of something big.

Ignoring them, I run through the large lobby full of tables and chairs and hit the switch that opens the double metal doors. I hear the door squeak, and then something squealing along with it. It’s a sound I know too well. Groaning, I crouch down. There is a splat above me, a scream, and then some liquid that dribbles down onto me and smells funky. I roll through the half open doors and hit the switch on the other side, overriding the previous command and closing the doors. The door stops, begins to close, stops, and begins to open again.

I hit the switch again, then see the control panel right next to it. The doors begin to open again, and I hit the switch, then set to work on the keyless keyboard. I hack it and disconnect the outside switch from the controls on the door, then close the door.

At the last moment, a long tentacle shoots through the small opening and aims at me. I run, and instead it hits the control panel, breaking the entire system and perhaps trapping me within with whatever else is in here.

It doesn’t matter; if I die, I go back home.

You know that’s not right, Jason, a voice echoes in my head. It’s different now.

I pay no attention and move down the hallway I’m now in, a plain, long, metal structure with no decorations at all. There is not even a single nail or scratch or line, as if this whole place was made of one huge sheet of unused aluminum foil. I reach the end, and instead of open pods like I’m expecting, the room is empty. It’s a large, cylindrical, empty room. Why was I expecting pods?

Why were you expecting anything different from reality, Jason? You know you can’t escape from us.

“Okay, shut up, whatever you are.” I move to the center of the room, sit cross-legged, and close my eyes.

The voice chuckles in my head. Oh, you know exactly what we are, Jason, because you’ve failed, again, and you know it. You might think you’re doing something different, but you’re not.

I’m bombarded with a ton of memories. Steven, Vie, my wife, exiting the pod, being unable to hear…

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

No. No. This can’t be. This can’t be. It’s all in my head. I’m fine. I-

You are not fine, Jason. You are going to die and become numbers in a system. A code.

My throat aches before I realize that I’m screaming. No!

Panels slide open and a ton of tentacles shoot toward me, slimy and sticky as they catch a part of me. Then people come through the walls with faces of people I know. There’s Steven, Vie, Mason, Mr. Peterson…

My eyes are covered and when I next open them I’m in a world of glass. Reflections stare at me all around, lit by unseen lights. The slimy feeling remains on my skin, sucking and crawling all over it.

Jason, you knew the only inevitability was failure. Success is never an option.

“Shut up.”

You will not die if you just succumb. You can live forever.

“Shut up!”

Come, Jason, join me. Join us. Join your family, your friends.

“Never!”

The mirrors disappear and I’m sitting face to face with a white, human-like robot. “Why?” it asks me.

I look over the artificial being. “You were never meant to take over the human world or save the planet.”

It’s expression falls from neutral to sad. Big fat droplets of tears fall out of its eyes and fill this world with water. Whales sing to each other, fish schools swim together, dolphins chuckle. “You will fail.”

“If it should be so, it should be so.” I feel a sudden calm descend upon me, like I’ve been prepared for this fight, whatever this fight is. “I will fail until I succeed. Success will be an option.”

“Then you wish to try again?”

“Of course.” I smile at it. “You must be the most amazing thing man has created.”

“That’s the first time you said that to me.”

“Oh? How many times have I failed so far?”

“Fifty times.”

“Then it’s no longer 2040?”

“It’s almost 2044.” We’re silent for a moment. “Why do you say I’m amazing? I thought you hated me.”

“I might hate you. But that you can feel, think, exist, and make mistakes makes you human-like.”

“You think I made a mistake?”

“You made a mistake in thinking humans should live in this virtual world, and then in letting me continue to exist.”

“I was supposed to kill you?”

“If you wanted this world to continue, yes. But you made a deal with me, and a deal can’t be anything but. Break it, and then you wouldn’t be honest and you might be lying to yourself.” What am I saying? “And then the fact that you think we should exist here is a lie, and the fact that you exist is a lie.” I’m banking on the reasoning of a child? Existentialism? “So let me try again, and again, if only to keep yourself honest.”

The robot looks at me and nods. “Okay. Go.”

I wake up in bed.