As the sun peered out over the horizon, I prepared to step into my favorite VR gaming world. The rich aroma of coffee filled my senses, grounding me before I took my usual dive into Salve, a brutal medieval VR war game. The game offered a wild mix of blood-soaked battlegrounds and gritty gladiatorial arenas, unless you were using mods. Then, the game’s offerings were limitless. Though I liked all the modes, I got a unique adrenaline surge from the arena. Today, I was trying something new. Someone had recently uploaded a Sci-Fi mod.
The VR controllers felt alive in my hands, humming and pulsating. I had gone way over the top with respect to realism. They felt like the hilt of a real weapon, down to the finest detail. This was something unique to my setup. Most people just went with the standard equipment with the VR headset, not me. I went the extra mile with additions to my controllers that mimicked the size and feel of real weapons. I owned eight of them, each letting me experience what it would be like to use the weapon in the real world. I wore weights on my body to make it feel like I was actually wearing chainmail armor. Every movement I made translated into an immersive sensory experience that went beyond just playing. When I jumped into the world of Salve, I felt like I was living another life in a completely different reality.
In the VR world, my avatar's fingers moved seamlessly with mine, wrapping around the handles of the laser sabers. With each twirl, the swords resonated with a hum that promised devastation. These weren't mere props in a game; they felt and moved like the weapons of a true gladiatorial champion. Each swing left behind a trail of luminescent arcs, painting the virtual world with streaks of light.
From the opposite side, my adversaries emerged. A fearsome pair that seemed like they'd been plucked from the darkest recesses of one's nightmares. Their aura was pure malevolence: towering and muscled, with mouths brimming with menacing teeth. As they drew their sabers, the crowd's excitement crescendo. They grinned cruelly, their teeth a jagged display that would make the most formidable predator think twice.
The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as they charged at me. Despite their size, they moved with an unexpected grace. Our sabers met in brilliant light flares, every collision resonating through my VR controllers. The game's AI was astoundingly responsive, matching every dodge, parry, and counter I made, ensuring each moment tested my precision and skill.
This wasn't some basic hack and slash – each adversary came at me with distinct styles and tactics. I had to stay alert, keeping track of their patterns and predicting their next moves. My heart raced, and even within this digital domain, my breaths felt short and heavy as I dove, struck, defended, and retaliated. Every victorious move felt intoxicating and hooked me in. Could anyone ever wonder why I played for hours and burned thousands of calories daily?
Retreating from the game, I found myself in the familiar setting of my home office, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee even more pronounced. The raucous cheers of the alien audience gradually diminished, replaced by the soft drone of my computer. I might have been a digital warrior moments ago, one of the best you’ll find online, but my heart and thoughts were firmly in the real world. The pull of the VR realm was strong, but I had a new role coming up in my actual life that was both more appealing and more challenging than any game. My longtime girlfriend was pregnant.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
We met seven years ago when I was still adjusting to life after the military. My four years in the Navy were very tough. Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t kill anyone and barely went to war, but the social isolation I felt was real. When I met her, I was still adjusting. I was a shell of myself. She helped make me feel whole again. Now, here we were, basically married, she didn’t believe in marriage, and I didn’t push. I knew we were committed to each other, and our little family would grow in six weeks. I couldn’t wait to be a dad.
Suddenly, a buzz around my wrist snapped me from my reflective trance. My smartwatch displayed an insistent reminder, signaling it was time to face the day. Leaving behind the game's rhythm, I settled into the more predictable cadence of daily life.
The first order of business I wiped down my weights, then I would shower. Otherwise, I and everything else would stink. As I was finishing up, I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. “Good for you, professor, good for you.” The hours and calories had a significant effect on my body. Gone were the days when my physique mirrored the soft contours of a well-loved couch. I had developed a flat stomach and a well-toned body. I was ripped even. This body transformation had eliminated the harmless, dorky, pear-shaped professor vibe I had been sporting when I first started teaching.
I always followed up my VR workout and shower by tackling the deluge of student emails. My inbox was awash with questions, complaints, and various academic issues. Swiftly and methodically, I attended to each one. Many professors took summers off, but I had to teach still, a nasty side-effect of being behind on my research. The university system has to get its pound of flesh somehow.
Next up, I chose my outfit for the day. Since shedding some weight, I had begun to take greater pride in how I looked. My closet showcased this transformation, housing a carefully curated selection of stylish yet still sensible attire. Today, I chose a pair of form-fitting gray chinos paired with a sharp white and blue pinstripe button-up. A Navy blue blazer served as the finishing touch, lending an air of sophistication. A quick glance in the mirror bolstered my confidence. I looked sharp. “Well done, Professor, well done.”
Stepping out of my house, I pulled my bicycle from its resting spot. Today was perfect for cycling to work. I quickly rolled up my pant legs and tucked them into my socks to steer clear of that annoying chain grease, then hopped on and began my ride. The campus was just half a mile away - a brief and lively commute I always relished.
Midway, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Nearing the campus, I took the call, recognizing my girlfriend's number. However, her usually steady voice quivered with apprehension. She was in labor – six weeks prematurely. Panic gripped me. This was too early. It wasn't meant to be this way. Out of the corner of my eye, a bright flash streaked across the sky.
Preoccupied with the urgent call, the unexpected sky flare, and my mind spinning with countless dreadful scenarios, I missed the car easing out from a nearby driveway. Its driver, just as inattentive, merged onto the road. What transpired next was a matter of mere seconds, but it felt stretched out – the piercing horn sound, the squeal of tires, and the unavoidable crash.
My bicycle folded under the force, propelling me into a disorienting aerial tumble. As I spun, time seemed to elongate. My worries for my girlfriend and the baby, my incoming crash – everything blurred into a paralyzing stillness. The final sight before darkness took over was the unwelcoming asphalt racing towards me.
My mind felt muddled. A weird sensation of falling persisted, but I couldn't recall actually landing. My confusion was interrupted by a distinct voice dripping with sarcastic arrogance. It had a sharp accent that almost sounded British.
"Congratulations, Initiate," the voice sneered. "You ought to feel privileged, being the final contender of this season's distinguished Immortal Tournament, a prestigious event sponsored by the grand Iron Hegemony."