Primer for the Apocalypse

The pervasive numbness of my body only did so much to mitigate the spiritual pain. Even with my consciousness flickering, I was aware of the deep ache where my soul had been injured.

My hazy existence lasted a long time – something I instinctively knew without genuinely comprehending the passage of time. While in the semi-fugue state, the spiritual pain eventually faded, becoming a dull ache in the back of my consciousness. I’d barely regained the ability to consider my predicament when everything shifted. Once again, I felt an increase in pressure. This time, it was uncomfortable rather than painful, and there was a distinct sense of twisting—

“Welcome to your Virtual Personal Space!” a perky female voice said from all around me. My vision suddenly cleared, revealing an entirely new set of surroundings. I was pretty sure I’d died since I could see nothing but white.

Was heaven still a thing now that I knew about Ascension? Was I being reincarnated?

I discarded the errant thoughts and examined my surroundings, seeing no real variation between the white of the walls, floor, or ceiling. It was like I was trapped in a white cube – or maybe a non-padded room for crazy people. Except there were no doors visible.

Before I started panicking, a strange niggling instinct told me that my surroundings were familiar. I’d seen something like this before, but before I could figure it out, the cheerful voice continued its monologue, catching me off-guard.

I’d somehow overlooked the voice that had greeted me. The anime-looking character appearing on the screen in front of me was harder to overlook. Dressed in all white, with hair to match, the young woman moved energetically as she monologued.

“This is your space, your V-P-S,” the woman giggled lightly. “It’s where your avatar can rest when you need to log off. You can also decorate and use it for your own purposes. Nobody else can access your VPS unless expressly invited by you. Invitations are one-time use, and subsequent visits will require additional invitations to maintain the sanctity of your space. You can also modify the time settings to allow for up to 4x time dilation – the current setting – while within your personal space.”

A paper-sized crystal tablet appeared mounted to the display wall, causing me to startle. The tablet’s near translucence made seeing it against the solid background difficult.

“This is a kiosk. You can use it to order items just like within the worlds of Atlas Online. You can also use it to interact with your VPS and customize it to suit your tastes. Unfortunately, the kiosk uses experience points as currency, something you do not have yet,” she said with a sad frown.

The adjacent wall flickered, suddenly displaying a familiar scene I hadn’t seen in 15 years.

Excitement surged as the heavy fog over my mind lightened and I realized where I was. My surroundings suddenly made sense. It had worked. The formation had worked! The timing wasn’t what I expected, but maybe it was better this way.

I’d thought the first surge of mana I’d felt had been when everyone’s neural interfaces had activated, giving us access to the system that governed progression in our new reality. Considering my current surroundings, it was obvious that I’d been wrong!

It was the first time I’d logged onto the game Atlas Online!

I knew the game used mana. Of course, I did! Everyone knew about that after the interfaces came online and Alliance representatives started releasing statements about what was happening to the public. Somehow, I’d completely overlooked the possibility that the amount of mana the suit provided would have been enough to change my formation’s target.

“Mana is the building block of life. What happens when it is removed from an entire planet?” a new, deeper voice asked as the scenes shifted on the wall.

I’d seen the introduction for Atlas Online before. However, I hadn’t given it much thought aside from being the backstory of the ‘game.’ I focused my attention on the screen, this time looking for anything I may have missed before.

“It is this question that led to the colonization of Earth several thousand years ago. Hundreds of humans from across the Alliance volunteered for the study, agreeing to inhabit a world where mana was actively siphoned, gradually reducing the ambient mana levels until they were virtually undetectable. As the mana levels dropped, so did direct contact with the colonists, as their modified neural interfaces ceased propagation due to energy deficits. That does not mean they were forgotten or ignored!”

The image on the wall changed to display members of several races observing the lives of colonists through what appeared to be satellite imagery. There were teams of elven researchers manipulating screens, groups of smaller gnomes and variants of fae documenting observations, as well as mixed groups containing humans alongside their fantasy counterparts.

Several spaceships were visible in the distance, showing the researchers were not confined to a single group. It was still nothing new for me since the fact that Alliance researchers – typically under gray camouflage – occasionally popped in for a visit was well-known after the reintegration.

“While the technological boom of the past couple of centuries was remarkable, especially given its mundane nature, it became apparent during the last decades that the balance of Earth had been disrupted. When the imbalance only accelerated, the Council, in their infinite wisdom, ended the study and restored Earth to homeostasis by gradually removing the mana siphons.

“Members of the Atlantis Alliance contacted your world’s various leaders to prepare the population for reintegration into our society, and happily, the stabilization of Earth was a resounding success!” The screen shifted to show images of humans of varying ethnicities smiling and cheering as they cast magic spells. It was undoubtedly an optimistic view – just not an accurate one.

“As new members of the Alliance, you have been granted access to teleportation portals leading to multiple allied worlds. Unfortunately, due to the low personal level of Earth’s population, only two planets are available at this time,” the deep voice said apologetically.

There had been more than that available when I left Earth. All were Tier Four or below, though. I’d focused on Pylos since that was what I was familiar with from the game. I’d never bothered to explore Osana. However, it would have made more sense for the mermaid quest my friend Jenny and I were after, being a predominantly oceanic world.

Wait.

My mind blanked for a few moments as the realization struck.

What was I doing? Why was I still messing with the game? It was meant to help us train and prepare for the upcoming changes – which I planned to take advantage of – but I hadn’t seen my parents in over a decade!

Why was I still logged on? It was late, right? If I remembered correctly, the game went live at midnight, at least it had in Missouri, where I lived at the time. When I was just shy of seventeen… My parents were definitely still alive!

There was a good chance they were still awake, even! They both tended to be night owls. I needed to—

“Log out,” I commanded.

Being in my VPS, there was no delay, and my surroundings promptly faded, replaced by shadows. It took a few seconds of fumbling around to get the Deep Immersion Virtual Environment (DIVE) headgear off. However, I didn’t bother trying to sit up since my body felt heavy and weak. I was also pretty sure I might get sick if I moved too quickly.

To distract myself from the physical discomfort, I examined the headgear. It looked like a pair of wrap-around glasses, except with an adjustable band that encircled the base of my skull instead of arms. I glanced down, noting I was also wearing the haptic suit that came as an optional (but highly recommended) addition. It covered my entire body from the neck down in a thin layer of sturdy material that could expand for removal.

Before, I thought it was just a neat piece of clothing infused with technology to allow it to shift to fit anyone. Now, I knew better. I suspected it was enchanted, probably with embedded mana crystals that could be refilled using the ‘charging station.’ With as much energy as the simulation took, it was amazing they managed to get cores to last as long as they did.

That was what the game was – a skill training simulation. Well, that and an introduction to the way of the universe with mana. The people of the Alliance had something similar available to train their skills, though most used it for education and entertainment instead, especially after Tier One.

With a press of my will, I attempted to shift my view in a way that was nearly second nature. Instead of seeing the faint colors representing the various types of mana, I felt a clear block keeping Mana Sight from activating and a sense of profound weakness. It wasn’t a physical weakness – though I could feel that too – it was something less tangible.

Maybe there wasn’t enough mana built up yet? Or perhaps I needed the system to be activated to use magic?

Surely not.

Then again, my senses felt muted, almost enclosed. It was like there was a wall around my perception. My Spatial Sense was completely silent. It was a passive skill but one directly connected to my affinity. If part of my soul had traveled back in time, wouldn’t some of those connections come along?

Slipping into a meditative mindset, I attempted to push away the light haze surrounding my thoughts. When the feeling didn’t abate, I tried pulling my consciousness into my body to see what was happening. It was usually a way to bypass (or learn) Mana Sight, but the skill also failed to activate. That was a little stranger since the ability to view mana while meditating was not a mana-based skill.

I had so many questions, but they would have to wait.

Returning from my brief meditation, I looked down at my younger body and decided to grab a robe before leaving the room. The thin material was supposed to be worn directly against the skin, so it left very little to the imagination. Though I’d grown comfortable with my body over time, I suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable at the thought of leaving my room without something else covering me.

Was I like this before? Ugh, teenage hormones probably played a part in it. Looking back, so many things about my behavior as a teenager embarrassed me now. Hopefully, they wouldn’t impact my thinking as much as they had the first time.

After stumbling around like a newborn deer – and miraculously not getting sick – I finally found and donned a robe before creeping up the stairs as quietly as I could manage. Since we lived in a split-level home, my room was downstairs while my parents’ room and the common areas were upstairs. I didn’t mind the setup since it gave me a lot of privacy.

I was surprised to find the television off and the living room empty. Looking farther past the end of the stairs, I saw that the door to my parents’ room was closed. Given that they likely expected to be alone for the rest of the night, I decided not to bother them.

As much as I wanted to see them after so long apart, I was not willing to give myself the mental scars I suspected I would gain by opening their door. Nope. I’d just see them in the morning. Maybe I could make them breakfast in bed or something.

Feeling a rush of nostalgia at being home again, I silently walked through the rest of the house, touching various items that invoked powerful memories as I got reaccustomed to my body sans mana. The photos on the wall, in particular, took me several minutes to get through.

It was exactly how I remembered it, aside from the last time I’d been there… But there was no reason to think about that right now. I wanted to enjoy knowing everything was back to the way it was before, if only for a few moments.