It’s Valkyrie…
Bread couldn’t believe his eyes. It was his idol, the one and only! His hands were bleeding through his newly attained bandages; his fingers hurt, arms sore. But he couldn’t believe it—Valkyrie, and everything around her. The new scenery, the soft glow of pink flowers all around…
There were crabs in all different shades of blue, turtles in purple tuxedos! It wasn’t anything like his records. And the sun looked so much closer, so much warmer than the one he’d seen through the window.
His heart skipped a beat. He was free. He was finally free. The world was his oyster! Is that what people say in these situations? Well, it didn’t matter. All those dreams and videos of the world, all those records and pictures swirling about inside. He could finally see everything with his very own eyes—the forests, the deserts, the expanse of inner worlds that would occasionally visit his mind. And he wanted to see it all. Especially her…
His idol stood a comfortable distance away. She was talking to someone else. Coach, she kept calling him.
The man had a rugged beard and a short stature. Most likely suffered from dwarfism. From the relatively longer torso, Bread speculated that it was achondroplasia. At least, that’s what his records told him.
The two started to yell.
“This is a findolancer, Val! A code splicer for that—that thing over there!” The man named Coach pointed in his direction. “And you accepted a deal with who? Azan?! I never agreed to be a corporate lackey!”
A thing? That sounded pretty rude. Even Dad wasn’t that rude. He was just… a little scary. Well, maybe a little more than that, but he didn’t want to think about that now. Dad had abandoned him. Because I wasn’t good enough…
“Coach, how could you say that?! He’s just a kid!”
“No, don’t you get it, lass? If he needs a splicer to get out of Simular, then he’s just code! A program, an NPC! He’s not even real! What did you even sign us up for?”
Not even real… Dad had said the same thing before he left. He had also mentioned that this place was a simulation. Did that man just call it Simular? Was that the name of this place? This not real world? Was it all true then? Was he just…
“He’s what? He’s just—Wait, no! Stop messing with me! He’s real, Coach! He’s realer than your stupid ass!” She grabbed the device away. “I can get him out of here without your fucking help.”
“Lass! He’s not Beady!”
“I fucking know that!”
Beady? Who’s that? He didn’t know of a Beady.
“No, you don’t.” The gruff man sighed, shaking his head a little. “I’m helping, alright? It’s been gone and done, but that Azan fellow better pay those dues.”
“I’m sure he will. Or I’ll see to it that he fucking regrets it.”
Coach grunted in response. “I’ll be back. Don’t cause another ruckus.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think? I’ve got some spare cyber-ups I could use to host that… boy over there.” The man side-eyed him almost as if he were wary of something.
Bread looked away. He weirdly felt ashamed. Why did he feel this way? It wasn’t like he did anything wrong, did he? He didn’t know. Nothing was making any sense.
“You’re logging out?” she called out. “How long will it take? We have to do this in an hour!”
Logging out? His records told him it had something to do with exiting certain types of recreational programs. Like a simulation…
“I know! Quiet down, will ya? I’ll be in contact.” With a few swipes into the empty air, the man was gone. Vanished without a trace. Like magic, like some sort of technology from science fiction. The gruff man had popped and disappeared into thin air.
Could he do that too?
No.
Of course not. People couldn’t just vanish like that. Not in the real world. Common sense told him that much. People couldn’t just—but what about when he’d teleported here? What about all that force field stuff, that time when he was supposed to have died in the snow? What about when that woman had erased an entire dumpster from existence? A thought finally cemented itself in his mind—
It really is all true then.
There was weight to their words. There was truth, real emotion in the way they argued. Just like when Dad had yelled at him, berated him, complimented him for a job well done. He knew they were real. Not like me…
They weren’t just making all this up. With all the teleportation and the invisible boundary walls he’d seen before, he just knew.
Dad was right.
This place was a simulation. A place where you could log in and out. A place where invisible walls and teleportation were a thing, a place that had turtles with purple tuxedos. That was the only true explanation to this impossible world. It wasn’t real. None of this was real…
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Bread longingly glanced over at the crabs. If this really was a simulation, those were fake too. Even the flowers. Even himself… The thought finally started to sink in. He was born here. In a fake world with fake history. He wasn’t even real. But what did that even mean? That he wasn’t human? That he wasn’t actually flesh and bones?
He didn’t understand.
What even was he? Maybe he should’ve just accepted it, stayed put and gotten reset. Maybe he shouldn’t have cried. He should’ve just been happy with what he’d had. He should’ve just listened. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so greedy. He didn’t deserve that. He wasn’t even real. Maybe it wasn’t too late. He should just go back and—
“Hey, kid.”
Footsteps. Bread looked up.
“You okay?”
“Valkyrie…” Her expression was soft. The way she smiled at him. It was nice, almost like he was warming up next to a fireplace. It made him want to stay just a while longer. He didn’t want to forget. Not yet. Just a little longer…
“Oh, god no. Call me Val.”
“V-Val?”
“Yeah. What’s your name?”
“Bread.”
“Bread? Like the food?” She let out a stifled laugh. “Sorry, kid—Bread. Sorry, Bread. It’s just kinda funny.”
He was right. He kind of liked this feeling.
“Wanna walk?” She held out her hand.
Bread nodded. He gingerly grabbed her by the wrist.
“That’s not my—whatever. How about that way?” She pointed towards the shoreline. “Nice and peaceful. Never thought I’d ever enjoy something like this, but once in a while—kinda chill.”
They walked alongside the beach, watching the water wash seashells ashore. It was pretty—the sunlight from the waning horizon, the soft lapping of waves. Even if he wasn’t real, he could still enjoy this, right?
“You’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ll get you out of here.”
“But I like this place.”
“You’ll like it outside too. Don’t worry. We’ve got beaches and lots of other things. It’ll be better than being stuck in that weird, white room.”
White room? “My room? I like that place too.”
“Well,” she stammered. “That’s, like, the only place you know, right? That’s not fair for all the other places you’ve never been to. It’s probably… What’s that called again? Sherlock Holmes Syndrome?”
“Stockholm syndrome?”
“Yeah! That—wait, you know what that is?”
“I don’t think—” Did he have Stockholm syndrome? No, he was sure he liked Dad. He wanted to be there. He was promised…
Memories resurfaced again—memories of when his dad had angry outbursts, when he was berated for not thinking of a name. Memories of all the times he couldn’t leave that room… No, he wasn’t promised anything. He was lied to, trapped. Dad had never planned on letting him go.
His eyes started to water.
But he was still his dad, right? It couldn’t have all been fake. It couldn’t have been… Stockholm syndrome… Dad was never there to help him grow. He’d said it himself. All of it was faked. He wasn’t even real. He was born here—in a simulation. It was all just a made-up fantasy just like himself.
“Hey,” Val called. “Are you okay?” Her expression changed beneath her tinted glasses. She watched with worried eyes—a look his dad had probably never made for him. Bread wanted to ask her. He wanted to know for certain.
“Am I… real?”
“Geez, what’s with the deep questions? You sound more mature than me!” She paused, admiring the dull, red reflection of the sun across the ocean surface. Then she asked in a more serious tone, “Did you overhear our conversation?”
He nodded.
“I know you might think Coach is a bad guy, but he’s not. I trust him with my life and honestly yours too. Whatever he says he’ll do, he’ll do it. And to me? You’re plenty real.”
“I am?” But he wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t.
“Sure you are. All the NPCs I’ve met sounded like police recordings saying the same shit all the time—whoops. Don’t use that word.”
“What word?”
“Nevermind.” She averted her gaze and started kicking at the sand. Silence quickly fell between them.
But Bread still wanted to know. “Is this really a simulation?”
“Oh, this? Well. It’s, uh…”
“Please,” he begged. He just wanted to know. “Tell me.” Deep down, he already knew the answer, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted someone to say otherwise. Then he’d believe their words. He’d do anything to make himself think he was real.
She sighed. “Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”
His heart dropped.
“But not for long!” Her gentle smile spread back into a grin. “We’ll get you to the real world in no time!”
“What’s the point? I’m not even real—”
“Hey, gloom and doom! I just said that you are! Don’t be rude, young man! You’re really just gonna ignore my words like that?”
“But I’m—”
“Nah. Don’t wanna hear it.” She grabbed his hand and pulled it towards the sea. She started pointing at a bunch of things. “You see that? I’ll show you that for real. And that? I’ll show you that too. And that one over there! I promise you…” She steadied her grip. “I’ll show you the world out there… just like how I promised another special someone…”
“Beady?” he blurted out.
She laughed. “Yeah, you heard that too?”
“Who are they?”
“Beady?” The look on her face told him everything. “He was my everything for a while. Guess that’s what it meant to be family.”
Bread suddenly remembered the interview that he’d seen, and he remembered what the interviewer had asked—
“Beady’s your brother.”
She didn’t say anything, but he could tell by her expression.
“Will you really show me the world?” Did he really deserve to see? The world that he’d only seen through his records? Did he really deserve to be free, to belong?
Did he really deserve to be real?
“Yeah, I promise.” She ruffled his hair. “Plus, I’m sure Coach got everything under control. He’s a smartass when it comes to these things.”
It wasn’t enough; Bread wanted more. “Why do you want to show me the world?” More confirmation that he mattered.
“Oh my gosh. You and your questions. I…” She paused. Her brows furrowed as her grip on his hand tightened just a bit. “I really don’t know, Bread. Maybe it’s because—well, let’s get you out of here first, okay? Maybe when I really figure things out, I’ll tell you. I promise.”
“Okay.” Was that really enough? Words? A promise? Was that really enough to make him feel better? No, he wanted to make sure. He didn’t know why, but he just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t lying like Dad. “Do you really think I’m real?”
“Again?” She smiled that same gentle, warm smile. It wasn’t like Dad’s. No, it was, but it was different. Somehow different. “I’ll say it as many times as you want. You’re real, little guy. You’re—”
Coach reappeared beside them, expression somewhat more grim than before. “It’s ready. I’m not sure this’ll—No, it’ll work. If it’s just splicing and downloading.” He walked around Val like he was thinking hard, constantly skirting outside her line of sight.
“Coach?” she called out. “Where the hell—”
“The thing,” he said. “Give it to him.”
Then he was gone.