Chapitre 2: Chapter 2
Somewhere in Cheyenne, in the middle of the day, a sketching sound could be heard. Inside a studio, a young blonde man dragged lead on paper making his artwork. Every line was straight, his shadows fine; every stroke he made was masterfully done. When he drew, he did not lead with his hand; memories guided him instead as he created a picture.
As a comic artist, he separated his paper into different panels; each filled with both the happy memories, and the painful ones he could never forget. Painting a story of a world long ago; a beautiful land where fantasies were possible.
Suddenly, his peace was disturbed by knocks on his door; loud and hard, commanding authority. These unfriendly knocks demanded the young man to get up and open it.
"Good morning!" a man in a blue jacket greeted. "Are you Mr. Charles Anderson?"
"Call me Charlie," the young man replied. There were two men in front of him, both dressed in blue, one of them carrying a black briefcase.
"Would you mind if we borrow you for a minute to ask some questions?" asked the other as they flashed their badges and cards, bearing the insignia and motto of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Charlie nodded and let the two FBI agents in. He invited them to sit on a couch as they looked around curiously. Charlie then grabbed a seat and sat in front of the two.
"So, kid. Just want to say it's an honor to meet you," one of the agents said. "Are you still in school or are you working?"
"Both actually. I'm still in college but I earn a bit from drawin' my comics."
"Yes, the comics you based on your life inside that… digital simulation."
"The people who've been inside prefer the term 'virtual reality world'."
The agents smiled, showing their teeth, obviously trying to establish rapport. Easing the young man to get as much as they could, and to make a friend out of him for the favors they would ask. However, their smiles soon disappeared, their faces now sporting a more pressing look.
"Things have not been going well around the world, have they?"
"Were they ever? It's a world made up of positives and negatives. Always has been. It's up to you which of the two you'll choose to focus upon."
"Well said, kid. Now before we start, can we ask you to share with us your life in the Escapist Dream?"
That question made Charlie sit straight as if these feds had tased him. "Sorry to ask you this question, but this would really help us," the agent implored.
"You know, the last time a fed asked me about it, I ended up punchin' him in the face," Charlie chuckled, "but everythin' you need to know about my life there can be drawn from my comics."
"Yes, but we would love to hear these experiences from you directly."
Charlie smiled at the situation he was in. He had to dwelve into his memories to do his art, but now he was being asked to draw them out verbally.
"The Escapist Dream…" shared Charlie, "was this virtual reality world. It's one of many virtual reality worlds but this one was very special. It was a place made solely for geeks. A place where they could live a life similar to their favorite comic, anime, movie, book, or video game. A place where they could use superpowers and play make-believe amongst themselves. It was called the 'Escapist Dream' because it was a place to escape from life itself, and in some ways... nothin' more than a dream. An illusion."
"And how old were you when you went there?"
"I was 17 when I first went there. That was 3 years ago."
There was a little smile on Charlie's face as he remembered the good times. The fun times he had as a kid inside that virtual reality world; the laughter of his friends and the cheers of of the crowd as he saved the day. The superpowers he gained, his magnificent costume, even the victorious fights and battles he was in.
However, the agents made him share more again. This time, the morbid side of his memories.
"You were the same age when the place went crazy, right?"
Charlie stopped and focused his eyes on the ground. His body became flaccid and his heart felt a painful prick as the bad memories pulled him down. With a sigh, he prepared himself to let those bad memories out.
"Yeah, some viruses took it over. They warped the whole world, turned some of us crazy, and trapped us in there. Imagine that. A virtual reality world where you can use superpowers, wacky weapons, and fantasy magic. And then suddenly everyone is using these against each other to survive. Many died while trapped inside the Escapist Dream before we finally destroyed the bugs and got ourselves out."
"Yes, we remember. We are still baffled how these people died inside a virtual reality world."
"It's the bugs, man. They didn't just trap us all inside, they messed around the place and once they did, our minds plugged in were affected as well. Because of those bugs, whenever someone used a superpower inside the Escapist Dream, the damages done became so real it tricked the brain into thinkin' it was hurt." Charlie paused again to give his heart a rest, before he shook the horrible visions and continued. "Eventually, those viruses can trick the brain into thinkin' it has died, causing actual deaths in the real world."
"It must have been a horrible experience. I'm sorry for what you had to go through."
Charlie gave a more visible smile as he tried to make himself appear strong. "Nah. Not really. Before that, the place was magnificent. If you're a geek, or an otaku, or a nerd, gamer, anorak… whatever, that place was a paradise. I got the chance to become a real superhero there."
The agents nodded in respect as Charlie reminisced, before taking a brown folder from their briefcase. As they handed it to him, they said, "We're not going to force you to dig up those memories anymore, Mr. Anderson. We're going to show you the reason why we actually came here."
Inside the folder were case reports filled with tables, statements, and other law enforcement accounts. What got Charlie's attention though, were screenshots from news broadcasts and social media posts. They all told the story of geeks who got trapped inside a virtual reality world. But Charlie knew they were not reporting what happened three years ago. This event was recent.
"You've been listening to the news? So you know of these recent events?"
"Of course, everyone knows. I've been through such shit, remember? These idiots don't know what they've just gotten themselves into."
"You don't have to be hard on them. They are geeks too just like you."
Charlie didn't give the agent a reply as he stared at the reports. These kids should have learned from what happened to him. They should have used their brains. Now they had jumped into a hole not knowing how endless their fall would be, and so far... they were still falling.
After the tragedy that had befallen the Escapist Dream, the world's governments pledged better control on the virtual reality industry. They shut down the Escapist Dream, followed by the death of recreational VR as a whole. Virtual reality machines, or VRMs, were not banned as initially thought, but they'd been restricted to selected businesses and institutions. Even if Charlie loved that place, the lives lost made him accept it was for the best.
Little did the world know that virtual reality was a drug, especially the Escapist Dream. The idea of being able to escape from real life and be in a fantasy world was too tempting for the geeks, losers, and the prejudiced everywhere. Two years ago, hackers reopened the dead virtual reality world.
A new industry was awakened. Black market VRMs were sold online and many, even the young ones, got a hold of them. More and more geeks would end up visiting the Escapist Dream in secret. Law enforcement couldn't do anything, and like a torrent site they couldn't close, the place became bustling again with guests and players.
They should have learned from Charlie who had written a graphic novel of his experiences. It was an effort to save them from his fate. They should have heeded his warning and used better wisdom. It was too late however, the worst had finally happened. Nobody knew how it went – some some said it was the hackers' fault for resurrecting something that was dead, others believed it might have been a new bug or the old viruses. Whatever caused it, the results were the same. Last year, the Escapist Dream had trapped the people inside once again.
Every single one of these geeks was put in a coma. Unplugging them from the VRMs only caused death. Everyone cried over their loved ones who couldn't wake up. Everything went dark and nobody had a clue what was happening inside. Schools, social media platforms, and news broadcasts were filled with prayers.
While being trapped was horrible enough, suddenly these geeks started dying. Even as they were watched by doctors and other specialists, they would flatline all of a sudden. Something inside the virtual reality world was killing them.
"I remember bein' invited to give words of support," Charlie said. "Seein' I had suffered such fate, I did what I could. What I don't understand is, what are you guys askin' from me now?"
The FBI agents were silent at first, delaying their answer, rallying as much courage as they could. "You've been through this situation before and you know how to survive it. We are now asking you to help those people trapped inside."
"What do you mean?"
"We need you to get in there and help them get out."
Charlie did not know how to react to what these two just said. Were they really asking him to go back to that place? The place which took the lives of many of his friends and took much of his innocence as well?
"You're kiddin' me. You have got to be kiddin' me," replied Charlie.
"Listen. Believe it or not, you were our last resort," explained one of the agents. "Six months ago we actually sent ten of our agents in there – our finest and most knowledgeable experts. We lost contact with them right away, and not long after, nine died."
The other agent added, "You know how this thing is getting worse. Everyday many of those people trapped inside stop breathing. It's not just us. Nobody in this world knows what to do anymore."
"I gotta tell you, man. I survived the Escapist Dream but I just got damn lucky."
"You know that's not true. We know how skilled you were during your time there. You weren't the best, but you were damn good. You made yourself into a known superhero there. And besides–"
"Dude. This is a big thing you are askin' from me."
His conversation with the lawmen was far friendlier than he expected. Even though they asked him to talk about his past life, so far they had been respectful. That being said, Charlie wanted this conversation to end, his patience having been stretched to the limit with all of these questions.
The feds took another thing from their briefcase – a small black plastic case. Charlie at first thought it might have been a gun case, sending shivers across his back. It was never a good sight, especially in America, when a lawman presented a firearm. However, the moment the feds opened the case, what Charlie saw was something else.
Inside was a square hard drive complete with a port and a cable. The feds gave the box to Charlie and allowed him to examine the piece. "Okay?" said Charlie. "So what's this thing?"
"We're not gonna send you there just like that. We understand the confidence of your success is lower than the agents we have sent, even with your prior experience. This here would hopefully give you a better chance of succeeding."
"Good to know. Now, care to actually tell me what this is?"
"That thing right there is another one of Jim Broughton's creations."
Upon hearing this, Charlie closed his eyes and tightened his lips, before giving the case back to the feds. He should have known these guys would end up mentioning something so accursed to him. Making him remember painful memories was okay, asking him such a stupid favor was reasonable, but mentioning that name was downright flame-worthy.
"Please… don't say that name again," muttered Charlie, gritting his teeth.
"You know of him?"
"Of course, everyone knows of him! That scumbag was the reason why the Escapist Dream went haywire! He was the one who created the bugs that destroyed the place and killed people! And lemme guess? The thing right there is another one of his bugs?"
"Well… a month ago, in our desperate search for something, we searched Jim's property. We knew of his previous record of hacking the Escapist Dream, and we were hoping to find something in his home that might help. But all we could find was a file that's now inside that hard drive."
"A file?"
"No. You're right it is another virus–"
Charlie rose from his chair and went to the door, opening it and waving for the agents to get out. He held himself long enough, but there's no way he would be going back to the Escapist Dream while bringing a virus like some video game power-up. This was no rescue mission and certainly no friendly stroll down memory lane, it was a suicide mission for persuaded dumbasses.
"Mr. Anderson, please," the agents pleaded.
"No…"
"You are the only one who could save these people."
"Listen, guy. Here in Wyomin', we have a sayin', 'don't force an old cowboy on a trail, he won't handle the dust no more'. It's been a while since I have been in a virtual reality world and I don't know shit anymore. I'm pretty sure y'all could just train more people to send there."
"We cannot do that. They will not have the practical experience that you have. That was the reason why we failed in our first attempt. And even if we do, it will still take time and the more we wait, the more people will die. Do you remember the reason why all of you went to the Escapist Dream back then? You went there to become a real superpowered hero, right?"
"Yes…"
"Well, right now those people need a superhero. And they need one soon. Look deep inside you and tell yourself, will you just allow them to die there, knowing that you can help them? A weaker man would've run, but you? I know you would love to help. You would save them if you could."
Charlie had to give it to these agents for they knew what chords to play. Like how the FBI managed to persuade William O'Neal to betray Fred Hampton, they knew the words which could get through your head.
However, the geek himself had a confession to make. Charlie would not be able to live with himself, knowing those people died and he didn't do anything. He'd been thinking hard about this throughout the conversation. No matter how much he tried to be selfish, this wasn't him. He lived his childhood wanting to be like Superman, to be given something like powers and costumes to save people. Now people needed him and he was gonna puss out? For him, the world was indeed filled with the bad, but it could use a bit of good too.
"One thing," said Charlie. "Tell their families not to lose hope yet. Keep these people connected. If I ever fix this, then I'll send their consciousness back."
"Understood. And thank you, Charlie. The world owes you this."
"Well, don't jinx it."
The day ended in cordial terms with no further discussions or persuasions. Charlie had been given permission, documents, signatures and all, to use virtual reality machines. Before evening came, he called his parents, asking them how they'd been and sharing how he was doing. He tried to contain his emotions, making sure to keep his suicide mission a secret. It was essential he called, since this might be the last time he could talk to them. The FBI agents were kind enough to offer their services in keeping an eye out for his body while he was inside the virtual simulation.
The agents also gave him instructions on the hard drive they'd given him. Jim's creations were nothing more than tools of death, but hopefully this one could be a tool of life.
That night, Charlie connected his old VRM into his computer. It was a big rectangular box similar to a computer unit, and though dusty, was still as shiny as something that could have come from NASA. There were ports to plug in the computer and the other paraphernilia, like the black foamed headset, microphone and goggles. Assembling the pieces was like putting together the bones of a dead loved one; nothing but bad memories and dangerous omens were inside his head.
To be fair, it was also nostalgic to do this, making Charlie feel like a teenager once again. The young geek reread the manual, which stated how the machine would put his mind safely to sleep, transporting it using the internet to whatever virtual reality world he'd choose. The manual also emphasized on its safety, of how one could be awakened from the machine as simply as logging out, or simply poking the sleeping user. Finally, in cases of blackouts or power problems, the machine would automatically awaken the person. Of course, none of these safety precautions were true anymore.
So much emphasis on safety, not knowing how technology would always end up being lethal.
Charlie moved his bed closer to his computer, before finally jacking the external hard drive. He waited until the lights turned yellow, signalling the machine was now connected to the PC. Another light blinked, signifying it was now connected to the internet. Finally, one last light blinked, signalling it had accepted the hard drive.
As he laid down on his bed, putting on the headset, his brain asked him one more time to be sure. Did he really want to go back? He would be trapped inside the crazy world again, not knowing how well he would fare this time.
Charlie sighed for one last time before pressing a button on his headphone. Loud revving sound as noisy as a rich kid's motorbike conquered his room, and before he knew it, he was then put to sleep.
He soon found himself floating on a black starless space, still wearing the same clothes, being greeted with bright colorful words that stated "Welcome! What virtual world do you want to visit?" A glowing holographic keyboard also appeared in front of him.
He could still remember his friends explaining to him how this works. The machine was as much a marvel as it was a mystery. The idea of such technology was not uncommon even before he was born, and everyone wanted to create something like the Matrix, something that could connect the human mind to an actual immersive digital world. Humanity did eventually build such machines, from something as simple as smart glasses, to something that could actually transport your mind to a real Metaverse.
These virtual reality worlds used to be simple and were nothing more than black solid grids you could walk on. They were initially meant for faraway people to interact with each other physically, proving helpful for education, business, and family reunions.
Somewhere along the line, from the deep depths of Reddit and 4chan, geeks wondered how they could turn these black grids into digital playgrounds. They soon started thinking how they could turn it into the virtual reality world of fiction. The Escapist Dream was then born from this brainstorming. How it worked was even more complex than how the machine operated, but this was not the time to be thinking of such things.
He typed the words "Escapist Dream" into the keyboard, before he was then sucked quickly into God knows where, screaming in excitement like he had the first time.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
LouisBul
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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