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>>> Under a blackened desert sky bursting at the seams with an infinite stream of fireworks, Alan weaved past herds of drunk cowboys and inebriated cowgirls. Booms cheers and music flooded Alan's ears, and Riyadh's desert heat bore down on him, even though it was almost midnight. He wandered down Cowboy Street, a byte of Western culture in an Arab city, and watched everyone swept up in the madness of this year's First New Dawn. Southern drawls and twangy guitar riffs drifted from the saloons and honky tonks lining the street. It reminded him of Austin.

He navigated between stampedes of stetson and denim, drifting from one group to the next, on the lookout out for lingering eyes. This was the First New Dawn party, the biggest celebration in New Horizons. Held every year to welcome new users to MTP's premium digital reality service. It took all of the company's servers to host this most epic of nights.

No one caught Alan's eye, so he threaded through crowds of cowboys and cowgirls to an intersection where the road showed off a stunning view of the city's skyline. Rows of champagne bars and cocktail lounges lining both sides of the street framed a giant, egg-shaped skyscraper that towered over the city. Alan gazed at the magnificent, unearthly structure glittering in the night sky. Its entire facade was made of glass and steel, and it shimmered reflections of the fireworks exploding above. Below the looming tower, an animated sign of a swallow caught Alan's eye, and broke him from his trance. He headed towards it, leaving the neon redneck chaos of Cowboy Street for Olaya Street—glitzy, glamorous, and refined. Where Cowboy was free-flowing and wild, Olaya was composed and refined. Being at a crossroad though, meant there was some Western influence. Men wore cowboy hats with their suits and women wore cowboy boots with their dresses. Wild West chique in the Middle East. Outside a swanky restaurant a man in a tuxedo puked his heart out. The crowd around him were saving his misfortune to their Streams, their eyes lit green as they recorded it, a constellation of emerald eyes. A singer's voice pierced the dry air like a bell. It was coming from the bar with the swallow on their sign. Alan walked in. There was no bouncer, only an open door with blue haze seeping from it. He stepped inside and was greeted with cool air.

It was a speakeasy, bathed in blue, that felt like an oasis in a desert—a refuge from the unrelenting heat and energy outside. Alan went to the bar and smiled at the bartender. A slender girl wearing spurs and a silver cowboy hat made her way over and smiled. "What can I get you?"

"What's popular here?" Alan asked.

"Hmm," the brunette tapped her lips as she thought. "I get people ordering the Arctic Siren a lot."

"Okay, I'll have that."

"Wanna watch?" she asked unassumgly.

Alan blinked. "What?"

The girl laughed. "The drink. Do you wanna watch me make it?"

"Oh, right," Alan chuckled, "No, that's okay."

The bartender made a few taps on her watch, and a blue cocktail materialized before him. The drink glimmered icy blue, and on its surface a siren sat on top of a glacier, beckoned Alan closer. The hologram curled her finger towards her lips, begging for affection. Alan took a sip, and then the siren leaned in and kissed. "Muah!" she said as she kissed his cheek, and a rush of coolness flowed through his body, refreshing him to the bone.

He turned his attention to the singer across the bar. She sat on a wooden stool on an empty stage. A gentle spotlight cast a halo around her, and her cascading silver hair shone under the lights like a new moon. She was playing an acoustic guitar as she sang, her fingers dancing gracefully over the strings. She had the room wrapt with attention. As Alan watched her sing, her blueviolet eyes caught his, and he was transported back to his time in the physical.

He thought of his ex-fiance. The road trip where they fell in love—when he laid her down under starry night sky on the Guadalupe Mountains. The lazy days of laying naked together in bed and not doing much of anything. How he'd graze the skin on her hips with his fingertips to feel the curves of her body. Their last fight: how her voice trembled and lilted like a leaf see-sawing to the earth; how his rumbled and quaked, like an angry earth swallowing it whole. The car crash.

The siren concluded her song, and the bar erupted in applause. Alan was aloof, engrossed in memories of his past life, when a rowdy Australian bumped into him.

"Oi, sorry about that, mate!" he said, signaling for the bartender.

"It's all good," Alan replied.

"Ripper of a performance, eh?" the Australian said, settling into a stool.

"Yeah. Mesmerising," Alan said.

"Too right," the Aussie agreed, his eyes on the bartender mixing his drink. "How long you been in here?"

"Too long."

The bartender slid the drink over. The Aussie took a hearty sip and let out a satisfied sigh, "Aaaah, that's the go. What do you reckon?" he asked Alan.

"It's alright I guess," Alan said. "Kind of boring. What about you?"

"First week, mate! I'm liking it so far. I play rugby, you know, and a bad tackle fucked my legs. I can't move them. I gotta get around in a wheelchair, for fuck's sake!" the Australian threw up his arms in frustration. After he calmed down, he said, "My therapist says logging in to a digital reality would be good for me, so here I am." He stretched out his legs as he took a swig of his drink. "And you, mate?" he inquired.

"I'm plugged in," Alan replied.

"Ahh, so your body's…" thought the Australian aloud, before clearing his throat. "Ah yeah, I'm still getting the lingo down," he chuckled. "Well hey, let's hang out some time."

"Yeah, sounds good," Alan said.

The Australian tapped his watch till its screen showed a plus sign, then he tapped Alan's watch with it.

Alan heard a woman say in his head say, "New user added: Linus ▒░▒░▓▒." He raised his glass to his new friend and said, "Cheers Linus; to your legs, and your first new dawn."

"Cheers, mate," Linus nodded, as Alan headed towards the door.

Back onto the street still aglow from the lights and fireworks, Alan once again set his eyes on the tower that loomed in the distance, the . He had only taken a few steps in its direction when the continuous stream of fireworks suddenly stopped. An expectant hush fell upon the crowd. The night sky, previously painted with bursts of color, was now an expansive canvas of darkness.

Suddenly, a brilliant array of lights pierced the night, converging to form an enormous hologram of a man in an iridescent top hat and tuxedo. He stretched across the sky, dwarfing the high rises below and pushing aside the twinkling stars. He stood with impeccable posture, his hands resting confidently on a silver cane as tall as a skyscraper. He leaned forward, revealing his face from the shade of his hat.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome… to your First… New… Dawn!" His voice boomed with theatrical flair and echoed throughout the city. "On behalf of MTP, I would like thank you for choosing New Horizons as your digital reality. We understand you have several to choose from, and we are humbled and grateful for your presence in ours." The giant hologram performed a graceful bow.

"If you are new to New Horizons, allow me to extend to you our warmest welcome. We are delighted to have you here, and we hope your stay will be as wonderful as you imagined."

"For those of you just joining us, make your way to the Kingdom Center for a special welcome. It's the giant tower with the triangular hole at the top in the middle of the city. You can't miss it!"

"For our seasoned guests: indulge in a drink, mingle with companions new and old, and revel in all the festivities!" With a Cheshire grin stretching across his face, the holographic man began a surreal, almost hypnotic dance across the sky, his smile broadening with each exaggerated move.

Music blared from the sky and a fresh stream of fireworks burst in the air. Cheers and exclamations of awe and delight rose from the crowded street as the kaleidoscopic man danced maniacally above them, his iridescent suit shining a million different hues with each step.

Alan grinned at the absurdity of the display. They've really outdone themselves, he thought. He continued his journey toward the Kingdom Center, more eager than before, knowing now it was the pinnacle of this year's celebration.

With each stride down Olaya Street, the tower grew ever larger and the city morphed around him. He strolled through the tranquil Japanese district, reminiscent of Kyoto, with koi ponds and wooden structures lit by paper lanterns swaying in the wind. He reached the Brazilian district, where samba drums and lively crowds replaced elegant dancers and delicate Japanese melodies. A group of drunk Brazilians pulled Alan into their midst and urged him to take a shot. They cheered him on as he downed the fiery drink and danced awkwardly with them afterward, their laughter filling the air.

Walking between the districts was like loading from one city to another but in real-time: in a matter of minutes, Alan had traveled from the calm beauty of Japan and into the fiery, passionate energy of Brazil.

He reached the business district, where the noise of the festival quieted to a soft hum. He encountered only the occasional passer-by as he walked past empty offices, restaurants, and cafes. Like a conduit between earth and heaven, the Kingdom Center loomed over him now. It was awesome to behold. Looking up, he saw a platform floating in the middle of the building's triangle cutout.

He approached the entrance where a large bouncer stood, composed yet relaxed, dressed in a long, pristine white robe and a red checkered headscarf. A line waited patiently nearby, eager to get in. As Alan neared, the bouncer's eyes shimmered gold as he scanned him. Detecting Alan was a contractor for MTP, the bouncer nodded him through.

Alan walked through a pair of tall glass doors that slid open with a sleek, silent motion and entered the Kingdom Center's exquisite lobby. Intricate mosaics decorated the walls depicting scenes of Saudi Arabia's ancient history; gilded columns rose majestically from the floor, supporting an ornate ceiling where delicate chandeliers sparkled like diamonds. Beneath his feet illuminated lines formed pathways on the marble floor, guiding guests to their desired destinations. A green line marked with an elevator icon showed Alan to his. He entered the spacious elevator chamber that glided along the building's exterior. As it ascended the tower, Alan marveled at the bird's eye view of the city.

At the top the doors slid open to reveal the celebration's pinnacle—a vast open platform crowded with partiers surrounding a stage in the center on which the iridescent man danced tirelessly. Bars lined every side, and trays supported by drones weaved amidst attendees offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Crowds gathered in clusters, some moving to the beat, others engrossed in conversation, many simply admiring the spectacle. A mix of voices, laughter, and music filled the air.

Alan found a spot with a view of the stage near a group of elegantly dressed women engrossed in conversation, their dresses and accessories shimmering in the ambient glow of lights and fireworks still popping. His eyes remained fixed on the dancing iridescent man as he wondered who he was—whether he was stuck in here forever like Alan, or simply logged in.

Amid the dazzling lights and entrancing music, Alan felt a gentle nudge at his elbow.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" remarked a woman, her voice laced with fascination.

The luminance of the party played softly against her fair skin, accentuating her jet-black hair and sparkling black dress. As she turned to him, her goldenrod eyes searched his, full of curiosity.

"It gets crazier and crazier every year…" Alan grinned and shook his head.

"Well, it is crazy," the woman chuckled. "But there's also a kind of magic to it, wouldn't you agree?" She looked deeply at Alan, her eyes thoughtful and gentle. "I studied the ocean before I moved here. It has these ecosystems that are full of life and diversity. And while on the surface they seem chaotic, they were held together by a delicate balance… a hidden order that governed them."

Alan looked down from the edge of the platform at the masses of revelers filling the city's streets below, their bodies spilling out along its avenues like current surging through the lines of a circuitboard. "There is a magic to it," Alan nodded, "when you're looking at it from afar."

The woman smiled. "What did you do before you entered here?"

"I was an engineer. I actually built the data center for an early prototype of this place," Alan gestured at the world around them.

"For New Horizons? The company that runs this place?"

"That's the one…"

"Fascinating," the woman remarked.

The music suddenly dimmed and the dazzling lights converged to focus on the iridescent man who had finally stopped dancing.

"Newcomers!" the man's voice boomed, cutting through the chatter. "On behalf of MTP, allow me to welcome you to our world, New Horizons, and to your new… digital… reality!" he bellowed as he stretched his arms out and raised them to the heavens, his giant holographic sky clone mimicking his every movement.

"Here at New Horizons you'll mingle with the most remarkable people, take advantage of the most groundbreaking features, and spend the rest of your days in utter bliss," his words resonated through his audience as they listened quietly, wrapt with attention. "To help you navigate and fully enjoy your new existence, each of you will receive a unique gift tonight: your very own AI companion… what we fondly call here digipals!"

Excited whispers rippled across the crowd. The woman's eyebrows raised.

The iridescent man continued, "Your digipal is a personalized AI companion tailored to your needs and preferences. And the best part? You choose the avatar!" Holographs of animals sprang up around him, mundane and domesticated yet endearing nonetheless: felines, canines, ducks, turtles, and more.

"If you're looking for something a little more… extravagant," the man added with a sly wink, "For a small fee, you can customize your digipal with any design you desire!" The familiar animals were replaced with mythical creatures and exotic beasts—from fire-breathing dragons to prancing unicorns.

The woman glanced over at her friends, then turned to Alan. "I do apologize, but I have to get going. It was a pleasure meeting you," she said.

"You too," Alan smiled. "Let's stay in touch."

"I'd love that, only… how do we do that?"

"It's easy. Let me show you." Alan turned to her. "Look into my eyes, and memorize my face."

They locked eyes. The party's clamor faded into the distance. Alan could hear only his heartbeat, beating a littler faster than normal, as he glimpsed at the contours of her essence. He took in her demeanor, and her expression; her soft, mouse-like features: long eyelashes, dainty noise and mouth, and flushed cheeks.

"Now, close your eyes."

The woman followed.

"Imagine my face on the cover of a book, and then put that book on a shelf."

New contact added: Ada ▓▒░▓▒░▒▓, a soft, synthetic voice whispered in Alan's mind.

The woman opened her eyes. "I heard a voice in my head…"

"Neat, huh?" Alan smiled. "You hear that voice when you use features here with your mind. You can also use your watch, but that's not nearly as fun" he laughed.

"Wonderful!" she giggled. "I hope to hear from you soon. By the way, I'm Ada.

"I'm Alan. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise," Ada said. With a final smile, she rejoined her friends.

Alan paused, caught in the afterglow of their encounter, to reflect on their meeting; it was safe to say she had left him smitten, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.

He made his way toward the edge of the platform and gazed out at the expanding human sprawl stretching out from the city. Beyond the shimmering buildings and street lights, arrays of solar panels stretched to the horizon. They reached further into the abyss since the last time Alan was here, three years ago during his second First New Dawn. He'd broken off from the main celebration held in Berlin that year to travel cities that were still locked in his world. This instance of New Horizons, used by MTP to host its annual parties, updated every year to reflect the latest changes in the physical world. Alan's world, on the other hand, hadn't updated since he plugged in, and wouldn't unless he handed over a hefty sum of credits, which he saw no reason to do.

Alan left the party and returned to the elevator. He floated thinking of Ada as the the elevator descended to Riyadh. The city lights glowed brighter as he returned back to earth, from his trip to heaven.