»> Alan gasped for breath as he pulled his head from out of the abyss, a void in his world that didn’t technically exist. His head felt like a block of silicon, floating aimlessly down a stream of mercury, as his consciousness returned to him. The dark alley in Old Shanghai slowly rendered for him again; the familiarity of wet cardboard boxes and puddles with trash floating on top eased him back to reality. The irony of bugging out like some junky in the seediest part of his otherwise clean world was not lost on him. Besides unlocking and searching new cities, or re-searching the ones he already had, there wasn’t much he could do but use this one. He had already reported the other seams he found to MTP to collect their bounties. He had saved this particularly grimy one for himself because it was behind his favorite ramen shop. It ran between where two brick buildings should have met but didn’t, the result of an imprecise calculation somewhere in the sprawling code base that rendered his world. In the space beyond the seam, graphics didn’t render, data didn’t process, and minutes became days. It was an easy way to pass the time, and these days he had a lot of that.
Alan’s watch buzzed. His digipal’s furry face popped onto the small screen on his wrist.
“Hey Al, how was the ramen?” Piper asked between licks of his paw.
“Tasty, as always.”
“Good Al, very good. Ed Djikstra left you a message; he said there’s a new contract you might find interesting, once you’re finished with your current one.”
“A new contract… from Ed?” Alan thought aloud. Ed was Alan’s boss back when he worked for MTP in the physical. The last time he worked with him was about a year after he plugged in, as an alpha tester for New Horizons’ new Streams social media feature. “That is interesting. Thanks Piper.”
“It’s what I’m here for. I’ll catch you later.” Piper barked and the video cut out.
Alan emerged from the alley and stumbled onto Beijing Road, bathed in the glow of neon from shop signs and digital billboards. As he walked the empty street towards the Huangpu River he saw the city’s skyline shimmering in the distance, its reflection dancing on the water’s inky surface. This late, Alan was all alone, though he could argue he always was. Aside from the half-intelligent A.I. controlled bots pretending to exist, his world was devoid of another soul. Sometimes he wondered if he even still had a soul, now that his reality was digital. Either way, he was still human, and occasionally needed human contact. He skipped out on buying a multiplayer slot after he got paid for his work on Streams, and instead unlocked a dozen cities, including Old Shanghai. The thrill of traveling and exploring new cities was exhilarating at first, but the excitement eventually faded. He had to load into friends’ worlds, or sift through stories on Streams for open parties, to find any meaningful interactions.
He paused at the edge of the water and watched the city lights sparkle and sway across the dark expanse. As he leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushed against his face, and he closed his eyes. In a moment of serenity, Alan’s thoughts drifted to his life in the physical; the relentless drive that had fueled his existence, the constant pursuit of career goals and external achievements. But here, in his new reality, his sense of purpose had become a gentle ebb and flow, like the changing currents of a meandering river. He wondered if this shift was due to a glitch in New Horizons: some constraint on the system’s ability to interface with his human mind. Or perhaps it was a natural evolution, an adaptation to his new life.
Alan lingered at the water’s edge, in quiet contemplation, till his eyes became heavy. Content with this adventure-turned-reverie, he dialed Home on his watch and loaded into his apartment in New Dallas.