'Ghost detection activated, please wait....'

His breathing was heavy, audible over the digital voice that guided him. With each breath he could feel his body pushing into the mattress of his bed. This was the first time that he would have been fully immersed, he was nervous.

'Ghost detected, connection to hardware established.' An interface appeared on the closed visor over his eyes. The operating system was active. The desktop was a mess of icons and buttons that could be controlled by his vision or his voice. He scanned over the interface and eyed the sword-through-shield icon. The computer anticipated him. 'Would you like to log into The Law of War Online?'

'Not yet' He responded. He scanned over another icon, a black skull held in a grey hand.

'Would you like to activate Biometric Crack?'

'Yes.'

'Some software may clash, I suggest closing down non-essential processes and software before continuing.'

'Close down all non-essential processes and software.' He parroted. 'Then enable Biometric Crack.'

'Closing.' The computer responded immediately.

The desktop turned black, white text scrolled down, a jumble of code. Then the black collapsed from sight, working as a process in the background. The eyes of the skull were aglow with red, signifying that the software was active. 'Biometric Crack enabled.' This would spoof his eyes with the already existing biometrics he wished to use. It was required, as his biometrics were linked to an identity four years shy of the eighteen year age restrictions of the game.

'Log in to The Law of War Online.'

The operating system did as commanded. 'Logging in to The Law of War Online. Enjoy your gaming session.'

The warm room, blue walls, shaded windows, all began to vanish from existence. Everything fell to darkness. The soft bed at the young boy's back no longer pressed against him, it was gone too. His head felt a quick and cold chill, then the voice of his operating system faded as it prompted for the last time.

'Ghost connected...'

His mind, his Ghost, all that makes a person who they are, left his body and entered a virtual world.

Black was about him. No ground, no sky, no walls or wind or smells. He was amongst nothing, and nothing was him. He tried to look around, but how do you look without eyes, or a neck to crane your head? He couldn't see his hands or feel his feet, he couldn't even hear his own breath.

Just as he was about to panic himself into madness, a voice chimed in his mind. 'Biometric sequence accepted. Welcome back Miss. Molyneux, would you like to create a new character?'

My sister should already have a character to play as... He thought to himself.

'Would you like to create a new character?' The digital voice asked again.

'Yes.'

'Before character creation, would you like to take our sense survey? This allows us to increase the quality and accuracy of The Law of War Online's immersion.'

'Sure.'

Immediately a flower appeared within the black. It was a yellow rose with green stem, leaves and thorns. 'Before you is a flower, pretty is it not?' The voice was different, no longer a digital creation. It was the voice of a fluent English gentleman. 'Please, I would like you to describe how this flower should feel to you, from memory.'

'From memory?' The boy responded.

'Yes. No doubt you have held a rose in your life, felt its petals or pricked your finger on its thorn. They are very common.' The voice chuckled. 'Please, describe to me how it should feel.

'Okay... Smooth.'

'Smooth?'

'The petals are smooth. And soft.'

'Okay.' The male voice responded, recording his answer to memory.

'But a little waxy too, to the touch. The leaves are light, soft too. The stem's stiff, but with a little bit of flexibility. The thorns are hard and sharp. It smells... Flowery? Like perfume maybe.'

'Very good, thank you.' The voice responded, then the flower vanished. A sword appeared next, steel blade and steel guard with a leather bound hilt. 'Before you is a sword. I would now like you to describe this from memory.'

'The metal's hard, smooth and cold. The leather's not rough, but not smooth. It's got a friction to it, like wax or rubber. Like leather! I don't know how to describe it. But I know how it feels-'

'This is fine.' The voice cut in. 'We ask you to describe the items to activate your sense memory, for recording to the system database. This is compared with other player memories, as well as our own Sense Engine, in order to create an accurate and life like virtual reality.' The sword vanished, next came a varnished wooden chess piece, a knight. 'Before you is a chess piece, please describe how this should feel to you from memory.'

'Hard? Smooth wood... The varnish has a smooth feel to it too.. That's all I can think of...'

'Very good, thank you.' A glass pane appeared next. 'Before you is a pane of glass, I would now like you to describe this item from memory.'

'Cold, hard, not very flexible. Smooth too.'

'Very good.' The item vanished, the process was over. 'Thank you very much for completing the first part of our survey. The second part will take place after character creation.'

'Okay.' He replied.

'Our database already has your personal body type on file, would you like to use this for your new character, Miss Molyneux?'

'No!' He blurted out.

'Would you prefer to create a custom character?'

'Yes.'

'Would you prefer to choose a male or female character?'

'Male.'

'Please describe your preferred height and build.'

I'll go with what I know. 'Five foot tall, slim.'

'Very good. What skin tone would you prefer?'

'Is there a way to speed up this process? Can't we scan my features like other games?'

'Usually we would do this, however, a scanned female user creating a male character could cause problematic results.'

'Scan anyway, and change my account gender to male if you can.'

The voice responded immediately. It seemed like an intelligent man, but was surely an artificial intelligence that would do whatever the user requested, within parameters. 'Commencing scan...' The boy waited. The sensors installed around his bedroom would be actively attuning to his heat signature on the bed, then making a 3D scan of his body. 'Scan completed, uploading results to character model. Would you like to save this scan for future use?'

'No.'

'Very well.' A pause. 'Your account settings have also been changed, Mr. Molyneux. A charge has been made to the registered credit account for this, thank you. Now Commencing.'

Within the black appeared a full length mirror, with a wooden frame painted gold. There was no image apparent on the polished glass, not until a formation of white glitter appeared. It swirled and swayed until gathering into the short young form of a teen boy in nothing but brown woollen trousers. Brown-blonde shaggy haired, pale skinned and smooth faced. He was handsome for his age, though with a set of slightly crooked teeth and a noticeable scatter of red brown freckles across his nose. His eyes were a dark deep brown.'

'Is this model accurate to your needs?' The English voice asked.

The boy looked into the mirror and inspected his image. He realised that he was no longer some floating consciousness, his body now existed. He could look at his hands and feet, and even touch and feel his body and face and hair. It all felt so real. 'How do I feel this real?'

'The survey is taken by many other players. They answer different questions and respond to different objects. We use the various recordings of others to build our world for everyone as a whole.'

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'Okay.' He nodded and smiled.

'Are you pleased with your character, or would you like to make any edits?'

'Yes.' He looked at his own reflection, at his hair and his face. 'Can I change my eye colour?'

'Yes. What eye colour would you like?'

'A lighter brown, please.' His eye colour brightened.

'Is this acceptable?'

'Yeah it is!' He smiled. 'And my freckles, can they be removed?' He had always hated his freckles.

The freckles disappeared. 'Is this acceptable?'

'Yeah, it's great, thanks!' If only I could do this in reality... 'I think we can carry on.'

'Very good. Before we continue, what would you like to name your character?'

'Name..?' He wondered.

'Your name is never visible to other players. Just like in your reality, it is up to you to introduce yourself to others. But for the server to recognise your character, we require a name to attach to your biometric signature.'

The youngster thought for a moment. 'There was a previous character attached to this account, which is gone now. Do you know what it was called?'

'The character was named Broadway Mohon, according to our records.'

'In that case...' He thought again. Mohon... Rai Mohon, Raiden Mohon, Ramen Mohon... Ragen Mohon. I like that. 'Ragen Mohon.'

'Would you please spell the name out aloud for me.'

'R. A. G. E. N. and M.O.H.O.N?'

'Are you sure that you wish to use this name?'

'Yes.'

'Very good, we will now continue to the second survey.'

Wind took Ragen from all sides, he felt as if he was being lifted and twisted and turned around. It was dizzying. The next thing he knew, a bright object was coming towards him from a distance. It came at him so fast that he couldn't discern what it was until it appeared as if it would slam into him. He braced himself and shut his eyes, flinching. When he opened them, he was standing inside a room, no longer the windy void. The walls were yellow paint on brick and stone. Windows were framed with white wood, letting summer sun shine through. The floor was wooden board with sheep skin rugs here and there. Book shelves lined one side of the room and a large blue door sat in the centre of the other. In the middle was a circular oak table, with a rose in a glass vase, a sword and a chess set sitting on top of it. Heavy wooden beams held up the ceiling.

'Welcome to this first introduction of Memory Immersion.' The English voice spoke... From behind Ragen.

The boy turned around. Behind him had been standing a tall man with slicked back black hair, a thin moustache and a pair of thin rimmed spectacles. He wore a suit of knight's armour and his hands lay rested on the hilt of a long sword on his belt. Ragen was surprised, stumbling backwards to the table, his backside slamming against it. 'Who're you?'

'My good Sir, I am simply called Reginald!' He smiled and bowed, one hand gracefully gesturing to his side. 'I am your guide.'

'Okay-'

'Now!' Reginald skipped forward, past Ragen and beyond the table to a window. He opened it and allowed a breeze to blow through the room. The flower shifted and turned in the vase when the air hit it. 'Please feel free to touch anything in this room, and tell me if it feels and smells correct to you.'

Ragen nodded nervously, still unsure of how he felt about this man. He looked over the table and felt the flower, the petals, the stem and the thorns. It was close to how he described, different maybe, but accurate.

He picked up the sword and felt the weight. Sliding his fingers over the broad side of the blade, Ragen felt the smoothness and the coolness of the metal. He moved some chess pieces, picked up a book from the book shelf and flicked through the rough paper pages. He jumped up and down on the floor boards, tried to slap the wooden beams above his head, though he was too short to reach. He poked his head out of the window and watched white clouds blow over distant green hills. He breathed the summer air and shouted with glee.

This world was completely real. It isn't. But it is!

'Are you pleased, are there any problems?' Reginald asked.

'None at all. This is amazing!' Ragen smiled at the tall knightly man.

'You have the players that came before you to thank for this experience, my good Sir. Each one has taken a survey that increases the detail of this world. And now you are one of them, and I thank you.'

'Cool.'

'Now, please. If you are pleased with this experience and wish to make no changes, let it be known!'

'I'll make no changes at all, this is fantastic.'

'Very good. Now, all new characters must take part in training. What level of training would you prefer: Beginner, Intermediate or Hard?' Reginald raised an eyebrow.

'What are the difference between them?'

'Beginner is the longest of the training methods, meant to teach players with little to no gaming experience. It will teach you in depth about your possible roles in the world, including combat knowledge, navigation and survival skills, tactics, item information and usage, as well as how to use your Heads Up Display and Character Profile interfaces.

'Intermediate will teach you basic combat and survival skills and supply you with basic knowledge of the world. This is meant for experienced players to brush up on the fundamentals and dive into the world in good time.

'Hard is a crash course in combat and survival and is aimed to prepare very experienced gamers, some might say hardcore gamers, to dive into the world as quickly as possible and learn as if a new born child, fresh to the world with only their wits to guide them.' Reginald clasped his hands together. 'What would you prefer?'

'Well!' The boy was quick to answer, knowing exactly the answer. 'I'm as hardcore as they come. I usually play shooters, but I'm sure I can handle a fantasy game like this. Hard training is it.'

'Very good, Ragen Mohon. Please step through the door and start your warrior's training. This is the last you will ever see of me for a time. I thank you for your help and wish you all of the luck in the world on your future adventures and battles. Please say hello to Archibald on my behalf, I do seldom see that gentle soul these days.'

'I will.' Ragen nodded. 'Thank you.'

Reginald bowed with grace. Ragen found himself awkwardly bowing in return before taking the handle of the door and pulling it open. The air rushed in and he took several steps out. The room he had been in, with the kindly knight and the yellow rose, rushed away behind him and left Ragen standing in open grass land. The clouds moved up above, casting shadows over the ground.

Ragen spun around to get his bearings, but all he saw was green and blue and white. The sun was directly above him, oddly, so he did not know where was North or South, East or West. Wherever he looked he saw the same. Green and blue and white. Grass and sky and cloud. It was disorientating.

The youngster's head began to spin, but before he could panic, a hand gripped him from behind, yanking his shoulder.

'Son, you need to get a grip if you're going to join the war.'

Ragen came face to face with the shortest man he had ever met. Muscular, broad shouldered, but short. A few inches shorter than himself. He had an angry face, clean shaven but lined with heavy wrinkles. Like Reginald, he wore plate armour over his entire body. 'Who're you?' Ragen stuttered.

'I can see that you're going to be a wimp during this next part.' The man accused.

Ragen did not know whether to be angry or afraid. The insult was wrongly timed after the unusual introduction to the game, so he settled on anger. 'You can't say that to me!'

Big mistake.

The man pushed Ragen and he fell to the ground stiff and feeble. 'And you fall like a girl.' He stepped over Ragen, obscuring the sun. 'If you want to fight in any wars, you're going to have to learn to fall. You'll be doing it often enough, no doubt.' He held out his hand. 'Take my hand, wimp.'

Ragen hesitated. 'I'm not a wimp.' He grasped the man's hand. The man grabbed his.

'You are what I say you are.' Part way through pulling Ragen to his feet, he let go and let the boy fall back down to his backside. 'Wimp.'

Ragen hit hard. He wasn't hurt, but the bullying was making him feel emotional.

'When you fall, stay relaxed and allow your body to collapse in on itself. You'll fall wherever, but you'll fall with less of a bang. Protect your head and you'll lessen your chance of dying.' He held out his hand again. 'Take my hand.'

Ragen shook his head and attempted to get up on his own, pushing himself up with his hands on the ground.

'Nope!' The man said as he kicked one of Ragen's hands from under him. He landed on his elbow. 'Relax! Relax when you fall!'

'Go away!' Ragen shouted, trembling with both anger and a creeping fear.

'I give the orders here!' The man held out his hand. 'Take. My. Hand.'

Ragen grabbed the other's hand and allowed the man to pull him to his feet. 'Alright!'

'Some time soon, wimp, you'll be falling from horseback, from windows and bridges and castle walls. You'll be tripping and falling, being stabbed and falling, being thrown and falling. You'll be tossed overboard from ships and falling. You're going to want to learn to fall safely if you want to keep fighting.' The man grabbed Ragen by the shoulders and pulled him close, eye to eye. Ragen felt the warmth of his breath. 'So what are you going to do?'

Ragen was getting tense, nervous. 'Relax.'

'And?'

'And?'

The man shouted. 'And protect your head! Say it!'

'Protect my head!' Ragen shouted in return. 'Relax and protect my bloody head!'

'Good!' The man shoved Ragen back, taking him off his feet. The boy fell hard and stiff. 'But you have to do it, not just say it.'

Ragen felt sick again. I really should have chose Intermediate... This was not fun. The man stormed over, looking like he was going to trample him. Ragen panicked and crawled away.

'Get up!' The man ordered. 'Get up!'

Ragen agreed that it would be better to stand. And run. He scrambled to his feet and made to sprint, but the man was on him again.

'This time, relax!'

Oh my. Ragen was pushed again, only this time he took the advice. He relaxed his body and let his legs go limp. His hips fell to his feet and Ragen collapsed into himself. His body flopped to the floor with a “plap”, but the force was not as much as before. His hands came up to protect his head from hitting the ground, despite how soft the grass and soil were.

'About time!' The man was smiling. 'Give me your hand!'

Ragen was still on the ground, arms wrapping his head. He peeked out of the gaps and saw the man's hand. He took it wearily. The man pulled Ragen to his feet. 'Thanks...'

'Remember that feeling.'

Ragen nodded. 'Okay.'

'You've learned under an intense situation. I know it was hard, but it was necessary.' The man looked deep in to Ragen's eyes, he then stepped aside and revealed the world to be something different now.

Ragen was in a yard surrounded by high, grey castle walls. Other new players were training with swords and spears and bows. Sparring and practising against wooden and straw dummies, propped up on poles. Wood and metal sounded off against one another.

'Remember that feeling, it will save your limbs and your life. When you are in the heat of battle, when people are killing and being killed around you, you must stay relaxed. When you swing your sword, you must be relaxed. When you dodge an enemy, you must be relaxed. When you fall, you must be relaxed.'

Ragen nodded, and smiled. He was pleased to finally see other players.

'Don't get any ideas.' The man knowingly said. 'These others are on an easier path than you, and won't be interacting with you at all. What is your name?'

'Rich... Ugh, Ragen. Ragen Mohon.'

'Ragen Mohon. Your training starts here. It will be hard, and like everyone that passes under my tutelage, you will probably not remember it all. That is fine, as only war will teach you best the skills you need to survive and defeat your foes.' He bowed. 'I am Archibald, and I will teach you the laws of war as best I can.'