An itch at the back of my brain tried to clue me in to an element that I’d missed. Better to take my time both thinking and exploring a little bit more. It’d come to me eventually. All the junk about a Turing test and new reality was just there to try and scare me with a low-grade science fiction story.

‘You need new writers. I’m just saying. The author who came up with your Escape Room plot needs a new job.’

I chose to swivel on the office chair just narrowly avoiding bumping into the computer desk. Breakages might be acceptable but I’d prefer to avoid criminal damage. I stuck my feet up instead letting my nicely polished ankle boots rest just on the edge of the table.

This was a boring experience. I was guessing that the staff weren’t allowed to respond verbally to keep the total experience truly immersive. My feet certainly felt real and quite comfortable. I took a deep sniff of my clothes. They smelled fresh and felt freshly ironed as well. So unlikely this was a case of being stuck in virtual reality.

‘Bored. Bored. Bored.’

I crouched on the chair and held my legs before pushing a hand against the computer desk before realising that spinning might not have been the best idea. I stopped again and planted my feet firmly on the dark wooden floor, my boots thumping down.

‘Hey Nikita? My fingers are having a little break from typing on the keyboard for now. You have oh, three minutes left before this become a legal matter for the police to solve. I hope your manager is understanding about this but the customer is always right. Three more minutes!’

I held up a hand in a random direction with three fingers held up. I really wanted to hold up a few other fingers for a few rude gestures I knew but it was likely that the staff here were just doing their jobs. No need to be ruder than was absolutely necessary.

‘Three! More! Minutes!’

I lightly slapped my hand on the table, avoiding the monitor, mouse and keyboard to make my point clear. Yeah, they’d be a little backlash about this, and I’d have to fill in a customer service complaint but enough was enough.

Mind Palace my ass.

The thought of creating this imaginary box in your head where you could store all this information about any topic sounded like a fun idea, but making it happen? Nah, sounds like a magic trick. Not my style.

Well, it was just like one of those self-help books where you envisioned how to change your life before you just got down and did it. I guess that this was all a dream and I going to be woken up to save the world with all guns blazing.

I had this person on the other end of a screen of a computer program that was telling me that I was currently inside a Mind Palace. Yeah, right. I was to be sure, but it was only an artificial version created through the power of software and technology.

‘If this is part of a secret training program on behalf of my company then I quit. Well, not really, but I’m tempted to do so. Being employed doesn’t make me a slave worker. Also, this place is really small. Bare bones minimum small.’

I thought it would be, well, a lot grander than a room filled with various pieces of antique furniture, old portraits, bookshelves filled with books, and small objects. As far as I recalled a Mind Palace was a construct that was built using the power of imagination and a human brain. No offence to the creators but this place was a little bit small for my tastes.

Why didn’t I occupy an entire mansion instead? Or a castle, a regal palace filled with hundreds of statues and paintings of all sorts of scenes from my life. Ponds and lakes of liquid memory, stairs to climb and beautiful gardens filled with Bakewell tarts growing on magical trees.

No, no. I was lucky enough to be stuck inside a room the size of a large escape room if that.

Pretty trash Mind Palace in my view, I could walk around this place in five minutes. Plus, everything was old and slightly dusty. I bet I could crack some of the wood furniture in this place with my bare hands and feet. Even those heavy things with the books on.

Bookshelves. The word had slipped my brain. I brought my hands back to the keyboard to communicate with the person who called themselves the system. I’d keep humouring them just to keep the whole scenario going. I don’t know who paid for this whole set-up ahead of time but the person on the other end was sure taking their job seriously.

?Enter Response: Hi. The person who is called System. Hello, hello. Are you cute? Joking. I’m joking. Please don’t report me to your HR.

->Hello. Cute? Hugs? Kind? Checking pattern recognition program. Please wait…please wait…

I just broke the person on the other side. Or the chat bot. Pretty good impression of a robot though.

?Enter Response: Wait. Wait. All done now? I guess it’s time to move another room.

?Enter Response: Why is this so-called Mind Palace so small? It’s a single room as far as I can tell.

->Due to current circumstances, I do not have the resources for a larger area. Please initiate the soul transfer process into the model mining robot form on the shelf. The actual real-life size is beyond the height of the current room. Power is running lower, and my processing capability will run out.

?Enter Response: Is that right? You want me to jump inside that tiny thing? Yeah, this dream is becoming weird now. As Escape Rooms go I need to tell you this has been pretty boring.

->Power Saving Mode will be initiated shortly. Emergency Power Limitation protocol will be forcefully engaged if subject does not leave room.

?Enter Response: If I were to leave this room then could I return?

->As long as sufficient power is provided to the system, the room can be accessed and upgraded. Mining knowledge is essential for your progress. Emergency orders are presently engaged.

I didn’t like the idea of a power-saving mode being initiated. That usually means that certain things had to be shut down to conserve energy. When I had been remote piloting mining drones, we had the same attitude. Once we didn’t need a robot for a specific job, we put it into power-saving mode before we would shut down and pack up the device in preparation for another job. Power off, tucked away, and ready for more work.

Then I saw a flicker in the air a bit above my head. The effect wobbled for a second like when a computer screen had been damaged, all assorted colours mixed and unusable. Like the world just had a small error that needs fixing. Getting back to the keyboard I hastily typed another message to the person called the system. This joke was going too far now. Way too far.

?Enter Response: What. In. The. Ninety. Hells. Was. That?

->Power Saving Mode attempted initiation. Psychological profile correction is in place, dysmorphic parameters are correlated, and Campos Protocol disengaged due to unnecessary use.

?Enter Response: Campos? Did you mean someone else? Didn’t that guy have a personality disorder? A psychotic break. A funny book though.

->Not at this time. Please remove yourself from the Mind Palace or forced disengagement will be necessary. Power consumption is not feasible for this unit. Overmind orders immediate drone activation priority.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

?Enter Response: I have no idea who this Overmind is supposed to be. I work in mining for a living and own a small bakery on the side as part of my hobby of baking pastries.

->Memory capacity and consumption have reached the limit.

My eyes ached, not physically but mentally so I leaned back from the screen again. The only clues for escape came from the person on the other side of the computer monitor.

I had been an idiot for the whole time, it could have been age-catching up with me or just sheer ignorance. This whole up was elaborate they say the least, with plenty of effort being made to provide a convincing illusion that I was stuck in here.

The place reminded me of an old film where the main character had been stuck inside a fashion studio for six months. All necessary food and drink, sleeping accommodation and exercise equipment had all been provided without cost. A crazy take on reality shows but with a funny twist. All the characters had come to believe that they were trapped, alone and forgotten.

Wicked ending though. The whole thing turned out that she’d signed up for the whole thing as part a company graduation scheme designed to churn out these amazing designers who had their minds half-broken and their social skills impaired.

Too long don’t read: this place isn’t real. It all made perfect sense to me. Yeah. That was it. Besides, I wasn't interested in making clothes or fashion. More fool on anyone trying to force me to do so would be in for a massive shock. My wardrobe held same colour socks for a good reason.

Of course, this place wasn’t real. Creating an artificial room filled with all of these antiques must have cost a fortune not to mention the decoration and renovation costs each time a new customer came in to use it.

Back when I first studied mining, we had been taking a course on how robotics and artificial intelligence would change the industry. New technology and systems had been implemented, and those of us on my course were all eager to get involved and get our hands dirty. Some of us even literally loved the idea of digging through stone, mud, and ground, I was one of them!

Now, while our course did appreciate our enthusiasm for wanting to get stuck in and work hard it still didn’t feel completely right. I felt sure that there was absolutely no way that any company would just hand over expensive and cutting-edge equipment to a group of university students who hadn’t even graduated and been offered job positions yet.

The answer was through virtual technology, by donning headsets, body equipment, gloves. On certain occasions even sitting in an immersive capsule different where companies were able to give us a taste of what it was like to be in control of the technology of a mining site.

*Ding* went the computer screen on the desk.

I was going to ignore that for a moment until I had clarified my situation and fully understood the implications. This was a joke situation. A person had drugged my buckwheat tea back in my bakery and then once I was unconscious, they had moved me into an escape room that offered the full VR immersive experience.

*Ding*

You can stop bothering me now. I worked out your little game.

Waking up dressed in some fashionable clothing, the mining books on the bookshelves even this computer set up was all just someone who worked for the escape room trying to create a truly brilliant storyline. I was surely meant to uncover it once I woke up this little adventure would be over.

I did not appreciate being put into an escape room unwillingly though. Not one little bit. I would sue them, call the police, or take legal action against the individual who had thought up this whole plot.

The same low-humming noise was slightly different now. More erratic as though a power supply was being switched on and off in the space of microseconds. I guessed, my concept of time was iffy to say the least.

Kidnapping and imprisonment were illegal and morally wrong. Without a clock I was unable to track how long I had been trapped in this virtual reality set-up. If the person called the system was willing to let me go then I would wake up in reality, thank them for the entertainment and give their manager a piece of my mind.

‘I’m done with this Escape Room or Mind Palace as you call it. Is that the name of the room? It’s a clever title that someone came up with. Oh no, you wake up trapped in a Mind Palace and have to find the exit within the time limit. It’s been great and all, but we’re done here. I’ll try and limit any legal action against your company.’

I spoke aloud. This time confidence in the person viewing the microphones and cameras gave me a decent response. Up to this point, they hadn’t told me that this was a test, or that I had to escape this place.

So at least the chances of me being kidnapped by a damaged individual or corrupt organisation were far less likely than this being a corporate virtual reality marketing stunt. Or an escape room paid as a joke at my expense.

*Ding*

‘Got it, got it. Enough with the noise already. I’m typing, let’s get out of this virtual reality interface at last.’

?Enter Response:

->Memory capacity and consumption have reached a limit. Warning provided.

->Memory capacity and consumption have reached the limit. Warning.

->Memory capacity and consumption have reached Overmind statutory limit. Warning, Closure imminent.

->Immediately confirm to exit Mind Palace... Yes/No.

?Enter Response: Affirmative I’ll leave now thank you. Confirming I’m finally leaving behind this VR realistic simulation and getting back to the real world. Bye Mind Palace. I’ll try not to sue you.

->Mind Palace Function closing. Loci are being removed. Transfer of existing consciousness to Mining Drone.

That was when the books and small items began vanishing from the bookshelves. Like a movie set where once the filming and director had finished their work the props were slowly moved off the set.

Except, in this case, they simply weren’t there. In a way it was quite funny to watch, I had always enjoyed having a tidy house and workspace and often threw away any extra clutter because I didn’t want it around. The statues, paintings, and walls. Items taken away made this space feel a little bigger although it was interesting when paintings were removed as well because behind them a blank white space was left. The walls, ceilings, and anything else began to slowly vanish leaving a white blank space.

Oddly, I didn’t feel anything odd about this situation. More amused. Huh.

Had I been drugged before waking up with a calming serum?

I grabbed my body to make sure it was real. My legs felt firm. Reaching between my legs I wasn’t surprised either. Yeah. The sort of thing a man would do when worried about their physical state.

‘I’m not going to pinch myself awake. Hello?’

If I’d been drugged into this state it was affecting my judgement, I wanted to get angry or upset but I was calm. Oddly calm. Yeah. Not normal.