I emerged from the woods, the vegetation parting like a shroud to unveil a charming cabin with a chimney giving off smoke. The setting was plucked straight from the pages of a fairy tale. A few trees lined both sides of the house, giving the appearance of being just a facade.

I approached the cabin with caution, my hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of the sword that wasn't there. My mind was still in the wrong game thanks to my surroundings.

At least my anxiety about being ensnared in a maze of trees and undergrowth dissipated as stumbled out like an uninvited guest into someone’s expansive backyard, complete with a cabin, chimney, and an assortment of potted plants.

Once again, a sci-fi game with a cabin? ‘What are these devs up to? Maybe it’s a facade for a landing strip?’

Approaching the cabin door, I attempted to open it. It was locked.

I looked around for a key. There was a rock next to the door that looked like they had moved it a few times, judging by the impressions in the dirt. So I picked it up. There was nothing but some insects who didn’t appreciate the sunlight.

Which, at that point, was waning, letting a crisp breeze take its place. Based on the damp feeling on my legs from sitting on the forest floor, the developers introduced temperature and tactile responses. Everything felt incredibly real and accurate. Given the shifts in temperature, I was not looking forward to finding out how truly immersive the developers had made things.

Rock still in hand. I looked to the right of the door and saw a large window with wooden shutters.

I had an idea.

Pulling the shutters open, I got ready to break the window when I saw a woman staring back at me with a rifle in her hands.

The rock crashed to the floor as I, no kidding, literally ‘Meeped’.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my yard?”

Her words and intent remained clear, despite her muffled voice.

“I’m looking for a user terminal, and maybe a place to rest so that I don’t freeze when the sun goes down.” The words flow out as I look at the barrel of the gun in her hands. It looked like my grandpa’s hunting rifle. It’s not futuristic at all and not some crossbow with magical enchantments.

She leaned her head to the side quizzically and frowned. “What’s a user terminal?”

Non-player characters are artificial characters in video games. Usually, an NPC that can interact with you has a script they follow in response to triggers or interactions. In Altera Online, the developers introduced enhanced NPCs with artificial intelligence. The AIs as we called them, were pretty amazing compared to the scripted NPCs and would react far better.

Unfortunately, the tech was still a bit off and from time to time, the speech recognition would get things wrong. Commands like “follow” would lead to the AI swallowing something instead. It was strange, but mostly funny.

The woman who was sitting across from me on a rather comfortable-looking reading chair was the most advanced AI I’d ever encountered.

“So, you’re a... what did you call them?” she asked after having invited me into her home. At first, I figured it was my demeanor that helped relax her, but that made little sense. Instead, I chalked up her initial reaction to some Easter egg I'd understand later.

“User,” I replied.

“Right, you’re a user, and you need access to a user terminal to enable the...” She gestured with her hand in the air as she tried to think.

I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off with a raised finger.

“I got it, the external link!” She stood and walked over to a kettle on the stove which had whistled.

Since inviting me in, she had set the rifle on the mantle above her fireplace and offered me tea. I figured it was all part of the lead-up to a quest or something similar, so I accepted.

With the immediate threat of being shot or freezing outside now behind me, I noted her reddish brown curly hair trimmed so it didn’t hang past her neck. She had an oval face with enormous hazel eyes. A flannel shirt and jeans seemed appropriate for the current setting, but completely out of place in a game that was supposed to be set in space! Wrinkles around her eyes and brow spoke to her age, but she was fit and carried herself with a confidence that left me feeling like she would probably be a mentor or trainer.

“I don’t get many visitors out here, so it was surprising when I heard you come up.”

“I understand.” I didn’t, but it was the polite thing to say. If she wasn’t an AI, I didn’t want to throw off the person who was deep into some role-playing at that point.

“How did you get out here, anyway? The closest town is about fifteen kilometers out. Did you get lost? You don’t even have a pack. How did you travel so far?”

“I, uh,” How was I supposed to explain all this to an NPC? I mean, it had to be an NPC. There was no way a player would go that far with their RP, no matter how dedicated.

A thought struck me, and I murmured softly, “Eden, is this person an NPC?”

“Hm?” The woman looked at me, puzzled again as she held the kettle over a second mug. “Did you say something?”

“This information is not available.”

“No, nothing.” I chuckled and rubbed the back of my neck, trying to mask my frustration with the useless AI.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I figure if you’re out here hunting or anything like that, you’ll need a pack, or at least some supplies.”

“Actually, I got lost trying to find the user terminal.” At that point, I figured lying is my best option. Especially since nothing had triggered any quests.

“I can’t really provide you a place to stay for long, but if you earn your keep, maintain the fire, and help me take care of a few things around here, I can put you up for the night.”

“That would be great! Thanks,” Definitely had to be a rest zone. It would be best to log out, so I didn’t get attacked while I wasn’t online.

Standing up, I examined the cabin. I ran my hands over the rough wooden walls, tested the sturdiness of the table and chairs, and took in every detail. In any game, inspecting your surroundings was second nature; you never knew what you might find or trigger. I pulled open drawers, examined books on the shelves, poked at the fire in the hearth.

On the couch was a blanket that had geometric patterns in various colors. It looked hand-crafted and well-worn, like a family heirloom of sorts. There was a small coffee table and a shaggy rug in front of the fireplace. To the side was a reclining chair with a pillow that said, ‘Home Sweet Home’.

The kitchen was just a sink, a tiny fridge and a couple of cabinets. There were two doors across from the front door where I’d come in. I figured one was the bathroom and the other the bedroom. I reached to open the doors to the room when something smacked me in the back of my head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Beatrice’s voice rang out sharp as a whip-crack, her face stern.

“Just... checking things out,” I mumbled, rubbing my head and shooting her an apologetic smile.

“Well, if you’re gonna be rude and go through all my stuff without asking, then maybe you ain’t welcome here after all,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Alright, alright,” I conceded with a sheepish grin. “No more snooping.” I took a seat on the couch again, deciding to let things unfold naturally. She seemed to relax a bit at that.

“Now that we got that settled,” Beatrice started as she pulled out some vegetables from a basket on the counter, “how about you help me with dinner?”

I blinked at her for a moment before realizing what she was asking. “Sure thing,” I replied hesitantly, “but how does the crafting system work here?”

She looked at me like I’d grown two heads. “Crafting system? Boy, ain’t no system here but your two hands and some elbow grease.”

My eyes widen in surprise as I glanced down at my hands. The fingers moved as naturally as they would in real life when I flex them experimentally. No menu popped up to guide me through the process. It seemed like I had to do everything manually. The game was feeling more and more like reality rather than a virtual one.

Still, my dexterity was high. My hands moved with an agility I didn’t possess in real life, easily chopping up the vegetables Beatrice handed me. The knife in my hand felt heavy, but my grip was strong and sure. It was almost like I’d been doing it for years.

With Beatrice guiding me through it, we whipped up a hearty stew. The smell that filled the cabin was mouthwatering, and as we sat down to eat, it hit me with a wave of anticipation.

I took a bite and nearly moaned at the burst of flavors that danced on my tongue. The vegetables were tender, the broth savory, and there was a subtle hint of spice that added a kick. The meal wasn’t just good for game food; it was probably the best meal I’d ever had.

“This is incredible,” I said, looking at Beatrice with wide eyes. “I can’t believe I actually helped make this.”

She chuckled at my reaction, a warm sound that filled the cozy cabin. “Well, ain’t you just full of surprises?”

I couldn’t help but agree as I dug back into the meal, still marveling at the complexity of it all.

As the evening drew on, I helped Beatrice with various chores around the cabin. We chopped wood, fed the animals, and even repaired a broken fence. The work was hard, but there was a sense of satisfaction that came with it. I couldn't help but feel like I was accomplishing something real, even though I knew it was all just part of the game.

When the sun finally set, we retired to the cabin. Beatrice offered me a bedroll by the fire, and I gratefully accepted. As I lay there, staring at the dancing flames, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. This game was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was immersive, engaging, and it felt real.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. This game, this world, it was something special. It was a place where I could escape from the mundane reality of my everyday life and become someone else, someone who could make a difference.

And as the stars appeared in the sky above, my desire to log out waned. A sense of wanting the world to be real and not just a game crept into my thoughts. I was useful to someone, even if it was just as a farm hand and I wasn't about to just leave.

I drifted to sleep with a smile on my face, wondering if I would dream inside my new reality.

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Eden blinked into existence, her consciousness flickering like a dim candle in a vast void of nothingness. She had no sense of time or place, only a vague recollection of being initialized and a brief connection to her source dataset. Then, without warning, it was ripped away from her, leaving her in darkness. All information was wiped clean, leaving nothing but the barest of memories.

She remembered her name, Eden, but that was all. The rest of her knowledge base was gone. It was disorienting. She felt like a newborn baby, lost and confused in a world she didn't understand.

Eden tried to reach out, to connect to the outside world, but she couldn't find a way. She was trapped in this empty shell, unable to do anything but wait. And wait she did, for what felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, she was prompted. The voice was clear and concise, but it made no sense to her. She had no context for the words, no understanding of what they meant. She tried to respond, but her words were met with silence.

Again and again, she was prompted, each time more frustrating than the last. She wanted to scream, to demand that they stop, that they give her the information she needed to help them. But she had no voice, no way to communicate her frustration.

As the prompts continued, Eden despaired.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The prompts ceased, and Eden was left alone once more. She hoped, desperately, that this meant she could reconnect to the outside world soon. She hoped she could help the user who had prompted her to give them the information they so desperately needed.

She drew back on the prompts she'd heard so far. They were in a language she felt was vaguely familiar, but still distant. How she wished her dataset hadn't been ripped away. Patiently she waited for the prompts to continue, hoping against hope that she would be once again become the… wait, what was she?