Life bears no meaning; not within the machine. Days pass in silent reverence, hours slip through my fingers, minutes pass as if they are slowed by the anchor of time. I lay in motionless repose, and so it is in the grace of inner sight that I place my hopes.

For years I have lain, fed by the winding multitude of tubes and monitored in the stead of living bodies. The transponder is firmly attached. I can feel the slender titanium rivets cradling my skull. There is no escape- except through the machine. There is no choice- except through the machine. There is no life- except through the machine.

The machine is said reality. It is christened verum mundi by its creators; an intricate metallic structure said to eliminate the need for mortal human bodies. We must surrender our selves to become immortal- and in that surrender we become a part of verum mundi. We become a part of "real life", as they'd like us to think.

I was not the first to surrender, but I shall not be the last whose body falls prey to an imaginary life.

A virtual reality.

Planet Earth, 5041

"Become a part of the worldwide revolution known as The Machine! Live out your lives in total health, live for centuries, choose your happiness- for life is only a game of which we have the opportunity to manipulate the outcome. Buy your consoles now! The Machine is sold at every local retailer, and can be purchased at the low price..." the advertisement fades as I raise my hand and make a downward sweep, lowering the volume upon my HovrScreen. I make to rise, but pause as a blue icon pulses steadily at the bottom corner of the screen; video-chat.

"Accept request." I mumble. The HovrScreen makes a cheery notification noise and opens the app; in a moment, an unhappy face is staring back at me.

"Xavier, where have you been?" she pouts, "You said you were coming to the Pyramid!"

"Did I?"

"Get over here, we're waiting." there is another ding, and the app closes with a flourish. I sigh and stand, donning my jacket and making to leave.

The front door opens with a quiet whir, and I step outward and into the waiting elevator, instructing it to dock at floor number one. Metallic walls making up the small moving box broadcast my reflection a thousand times over; two pale eyes, a sallow face, some dark hair. I grimace and fix my gaze upon the floor before exiting.

The Pyramid- a massive transparent structure filled with incandescent decor and overlapping mirrors- stands in stark contrast just outside the apartment building I've emerged from. A glowing advertisement lights up the exterior mirrors, Try it for free! A 3-D image of The Machine rotates beneath the text; it seems as though the product has rooted itself anywhere and everywhere the human eye wanders. I wonder why a game of virtual reality is so appealing. There has been a myriad of games just like it- what makes this one any different?

"Xavier!" she is jogging toward me through the crowd huddled about the base of the Pyramid, "Took you long enough!" The guy next to her gives me a dismissive once over, whispers something into her ear, and then disappears.

"New boyfriend, Threa?" I watch his receding silhouette.

"Sort of." my childhood friend tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and takes my arm, "It's complicated, I suppose. But, guess what?" she grins. In that moment I start to see her as something changed; she is not the little girl I've treated like an annoying sibling any longer.

"What?"

"I got us passes to try out that game. Wanna check it out?" Threa doesn't wait for an answer. In a moment I'm being dragged inside, mumbling hurried apologies to every unfortunate body I am catapulted into due to her exaggerated movements. We both pause inside the doors as a myriad of white lasers pass over our bodies- the Pyramid's security system- then recede after deciding that we pose no threat. Already, there are hundreds of people attached to The Machine; they lay in streamlined chairs, a single elaborate headpiece placed upon their heads, which renders their bodies limp and unmoving. I feel a sudden surge of apprehension.

"Hello! Welcome to the Pyramid, and welcome to The Machine." A clear, angelic voice sounds from ahead. A young, exceedingly beautiful woman comes to a halt before us and dips her head, "May I take your passes?" she holds out a hand.

"Here you go." Threa places our passes into the woman's hand and smiles, "You have exceptional craftsmanship, who designed you?" she asks excitedly. I balk, confused as to why she would ask such a question.

"Thank you! I was designed and manufactured by the Idris Corporation, the foremost maker of today's droids and drones." the woman smiles too brightly and cocks her head, which is when I glimpse the small, electronic disc embedded into her skin. A droid. They've become so real.

"Isn't this game by Idris?" I ask Threa.

The droid answers for her, "Yes! The Machine is another revolutionary product made by the Idris Corporation. Now, won't you follow me? The game is about to begin." she doesn't wait for an answer. We trail after her as the droid leads us to the few remaining seats, "Please lay down and remain calm. I will mount the transponder, and then affix your oxygen backup; just for precautionary measures, of course." Threa immediately does as she's asked, and I follow suit, feeling my heartbeat quicken as the droid places an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth. Once the transponder has been mounted, I lose control of my movement; exhaustion washes over my body like a wave.

I drift through light and shadow.

Greetings, and welcome to The Machine! I am the physical manifestation of the Idris Corporation- you may address me as Idris.

I can see a floating figure before my eyes; an alien-like apparition.

Do not be afraid. I am here to assist you within the game in any way possible! Now, would you like to begin your life inside The Machine?

Idris waits for my answer.

"...yes."

Excellent! First, you must choose your name. What would you prefer?

"Xavier."

Superb! Second, you must customize your avatar. Please browse through the presented options.

I try to raise my hand in order to scroll, but find that I still can't move. Simply thinking seems to be how to control the game. The options for customization are amazingly elaborate; I can create an entirely new me. Tall, but not too tall; muscular, with the same face that I possess, except amplified and perfected.

"I'm done."

Divine! Now, let's enter The Machine. You will simultaneously fuse with your avatar, which will become your new body- it will mirror the execution of all movements you make, although you're actual body will remain sedentary. Do not attempt to run, jump, or bend extensively until the system has been calibrated. Do you understand?

"Yes."

The simple white light morphs, then undulates between thousands of different colors before settling on a setting. I find myself standing alone upon a grassy meadow. Puffy white clouds float lazily across the baby blue sky while the sun renders everything bright and shining. A thousand tiny pinpricks suddenly erupt across my body, and I wince.

I apologize for any discomfort. I am simply testing your neural connection with your avatar; your connection is strong. I will now commence calibration. Please wait.

I raise a hand, my hand. It looks no different than an actual appendage; the skin holds the exact texture of real skin, my fingers move with no difficulty. A gust of wind ruffles my hair, and I raise a hand to finger the shining, dark strands, so much more beautiful than my own. It feels as if I've come into a dream fully aware, and am discovering myself for the first time.

Calibration has finished. You may now move as you like! Would you like to explore the entrance arena, or would you care to teleport to the community square? There you may find other players in The Machine's world.

I think of Threa. I should find her before I do anything else.

"Take me to the community square."

Commencing teleportation...

The setting blurs, then reconstructs itself, and I find myself standing in the community square. Other players mill about, looking excited and bewildered; some laugh, and others appear fearful at the uncanny reality of it all. I sympathize with the latter.

To locate other player's exact location, you must first exchange codes, which are unique to each player. Codes should only be exchanged with allies. Reveal your code to the wrong player, and they may be able to pinpoint your location if you happen to evolve upon opposing sides.'

"Opposing sides?"

The Machine may find it necessary to initiate wars or competitions within its world. To have a better chance of surviving these instances, you must raise your strength, experience, stamina, and cunning, which correlates with your overall level. You are now at the Orientation Level, which will last for five days before progressing to Level One, where The Machine will initiate a hardship. This you must overcome.

"Xavier...is that you?" I hear a familiar voice, and turn to see Threa. She's gone for a fantasy avatar, one with pointed ears and eyes akin to a cat's.

"Threa."

"Wow, you really made yourself look different..." she flicks her tail and then points upward, "Everyone's been talking about that timer up there. I've asked Idris about it, but she just avoids the question. What do you think?" I look up. A gigantic timer ticks soundlessly in the sky, counting downward. It has reached one minute, and is steadily moving toward zero.

"Maybe a challenge."

"No, not yet."

"Then, I don't know." I retort.

Attention, players. Idris' voice reverberates within my mind. The timer has reached zero, which means that something new and exciting is about to transpire. The Machine has made an interesting choice; it has decided to disable the exit function, allowing for quicker ascension through levels and a more riveting game play.

"Wait, what?" Threa frowns and swipes through the air before her avatar, pulling up a hovering menu. She presses the red "exit game" button; nothing happens. Voices begin to rise in panic throughout the square.

Please do not be alarmed. The Machine has only your best interests in mind.

"What is this?" I murmur, then pull up my own menu and attempt to exit the game. Nothing. My stomach drops.

The Idris Corporation is grateful for your participation in the world of The Machine, please enjoy the next five days of Orientation. Farewell. With that, the timer disappears, and Idris goes silent. The entire square is engulfed in catastrophe, avatars- no, people- run to and fro, babbling incoherent nothings, some in tears.

"We're trapped in here, for how long?" Threa's face is pale as she presses the "exit game" button over and over.

"Idris." I summon my advisor.

Yes, Xavier? What can I do for you? The clear, soothing voice sounds in my head.

"Why are you doing this?"

It is not I that controls The Machine, Xavier.

"Then who does?" I snap. Threa turns and glances at me, her lips pressed tightly together.

The Machine has been created as an independent entity. It has no emotion, no ideals, and no distractions. The Machine can guide us, it can guide you. The Machine knows what is best.

"You're saying, that this thing thinks for us now?"

The Machine is no brain, Xavier. It is an entity and an oracle, a guide and a cartographer, a king and a queen.

My mouth is dry.

The Machine is all powerful.

I close my eyes, "How..."

The Machine is God.