Wyn curses and throws her VR headset at the wall. It smacks into the rusted metal wall with a metallic crunch before falling to the ground. She gasps. Her eyes go wide as she dives to the ground.

  “No, no, no, NO! Not again!” she mutters to herself.

  She rotates the headset and sees that the coating on the outside has scratched where it struck the wall. But there are no dents, nor are there any signs of significant damage. Wyn flops backwards onto the floor with a sigh. It cost her a fortune to replace the headset two years ago. She worked overtime for four months just to afford it, and even then she just barely managed it.

  Wyn grabs the headset and holds it above her head. The headset, if you could call it that, more closely resembles an old-world military helmet. Made of lightweight metal and plastic, it wraps around the head almost entirely, with a leather chinstrap to hold it in place. The most notable feature of the headset is the visor. Its tinted glass finish lets it serve as a faint mirror for Wyn, giving her a glimpse of herself on the crusty floor.

  “Damn. How long was I playing?” Wyn asks.

  “17 hours and 2 minutes. 15 hours spent in Elysius, and the final 2 in the Eden Demo you downloaded earlier,” says the headset. The Progenitis Systems logo blinks as the helmet speaks.

  Wyn groans. The reflection was not pretty. Her dark brown hair somehow tangled, despite how short she keeps it. She’s barely covered by her black rock band tank top, which is more hole than shirt, with her sweatpants much the same. Wyn’s sunken eyes and the bags beneath them gave her a sullen expression. Deep immersion VR headsets, like her old Elysius model, were not meant to be worn for more than 6 hours at a time. Not that those sorts of guidelines have ever stopped Wyn before.

  Wyn sits up and sighs at her tiny room. Gray paint peels off the metallic walls, showing signs of rust. From the small window, Wyn can see the hills of Cincinnati. In decades past, beautiful homes and happy families might have dotted those hills. But that was before the days of the Gray Zones and the Radiance. Nowadays, dozens of ramshackle towers jut out of the hillside like a bushel of rusting thorns.

  With a sigh, Wyn shakes off her growing funk. She can’t fix the problems of the past, so there’s no reason to dwell on them. She’s got other things to take care of. First, the growing headache that stabs at the inside of her skull has to go. Wyn has dealt with overexposure to Deep Immersion systems many times, but this headache was building to be something killer.

  Half shuffling, and half dragging herself, Wyn gets to the end table beside her bed and grabs a few tablets out of the cabinet. Within moments of swallowing the pills, she feels the painful headache beginning to subside.

  “Okay. That’s better.”

  Wyn forces herself upright, her legs trembling from the strain of Deep Immersion. Eden felt almost indistinguishable from reality, far more convincing than Elysium ever was. Elysium was a few years old now, a prototype built by the elusive Progenitis Corporation. Eden, it seems, is their true masterpiece. Wyn figures the world’s startling realism is to blame for her pounding headache. Not that it matters much, since there’s no way she could ever afford the new Eden System hardware anyway.

  She changes into something at least mildly presentable, ditching the shredded tank top and sweatpants for an outfit that isn’t riddled with holes. Down the hall, Wyn hears signs of life. Her brother lets out an annoyed whine as plates rattle against the old wooden table. The air smells faintly of ozone and artificial spice as the reconstituter hums to life, its low vibration thrumming through the floor while it assembles dinner molecule by molecule.

  “Mooooom! Why isn’t it done yet?” says Rohn.

  “It’ll be done soon, I promise,” says Mom, exhausted from a long day’s work.

  Wyn can’t help but smile. For all the horrors of the real world, nothing compares to the warmth of family. She brushes herself off, picking a few flecks of grit from her sleeve, and takes one last glance to make sure she’s at least halfway presentable. Satisfied, she heads down the hallway toward the clatter and voices spilling from the kitchen.

  “Look who decided to join us. Finally got yourself away from those games.”

  “Yes Mom. What’s for dinner?” Wyn says, rolling her eyes. Wyn has had this conversation many times. But she wants to focus on what’s really important here — getting some food in her belly.

  “Just the usual, ration packets.”

  Wyn suppresses a groan and nods. Her little brother Rohm smiles wide as she sits in the chair beside him. It takes him merely 2 seconds to launch into a torrent of questions.

  “Wyn. So you got to try that new Progenitis game, right? Eden? How was it? Were you able to use your Elysius character like they said? How did it feel? Was the immersion better? What about—”

  “Whoa there, Rohn. One question at a time,” Wyn says, chuckling.

  “Yes, I got to try it. It was a very fun demo.” Wyn continues. “I used my Elysius character. It was a very…” Wyn pauses for a second, choosing her next words carefully. “It was a very interesting experience.”

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  Rohn gleams with excitement, hanging on to every word. He adores Progenitis’ games, and was supremely jealous. Since Rohn is only eight, he wasn’t allowed to try the demo, and now he’s desperate to learn everything he can about the upcoming release. Wyn didn’t want to spoil his fun by sharing the crazy glitch she ran into. That strange stone dais was insane. The demo was supposed to be a simple hunt through the woods, not a death-defying magic ritual.

  “I can’t wait to play it. It seems so cool!” says Rohn. He bounces in his seat with excitement, his rumbling stomach forgotten.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, kiddo. If we’re lucky, I’ll be able to get one next year. The new gear required for the Eden System is stupidly expensive. You either have to get lucky or be stupid rich to get your hands on one,” says Wyn.

  Rohn frowns, hating that he won’t get his hands on the new toy. Wyn offers him a sorry face and ruffles his hair.

  “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  A few hours later, Wyn slips on her old sneakers and gives a wave to Rohn.

  “I’ll be back later, just need to pick something up for Elzie,” says Wyn.

  Rohn barely glances up from his tablet, offers a dismissive wave, and grunts a farewell. Wyn rolls her eyes at the boy but chooses not to press the issue. Just a quick jaunt to the pharmacy, and she’ll be back before they know it.

  Wyn hits the button on the old rusted elevator, praying it works. After a few tense moments, it gives a loud “ding” and the doors open. The elevator doesn’t line up properly with her floor, which gives Wyn pause. She could either walk down the 14 flights of stairs for the second time this week or take the elevator, which has a slight chance of causing her immense harm.

  Wyn chooses the elevator.

  She taps her foot on the elevator floor before putting her full weight on it. The elevator doesn’t shift or make any painful lurching sounds, so Wyn guesses that it’s safe. With a breath, Wyn steps all the way inside the elevator and selects the ground floor. The elevator whines as it descends, causing Wyn to question her choice of convenience over safety. But thankfully it reaches the ground floor without issue.

  Outside, Wyn sucks in the hot Cincinnati air. It’s a balmy 108 today, which is about normal for early May these days. Thankfully, the sun has gone down, so it’s no longer dangerous to be outside. Or at least it’s less dangerous.

  Wyn, like so many others, did not start her life in Ohio. She grew up in South Carolina, only a few dozen miles away from the beach. Sighing, Wyn shakes her head and blinks sadness from her eyes. It’s no use dwelling on the past now; there’s nothing Wyn can do. Most of the coastal states are gone at this point because of the rising sea level, and Wyn couldn’t return to her old home even if she wanted to.

  After about 15 minutes of walking, Wyn arrives at the small corner drugstore. She waves a greeting to the proprietor.

  “Hey Alejandro. You’ve got my sister’s meds?” Wyn asked.

  “I do. Just give me a moment,” says Alejandro with a sigh.

  Wyn nods and walks around the store for a moment, the linoleum floor squeaking beneath her feet, looking for a way to pass the time. She picks up the latest edition of “Progenitis Weekly,” a magazine covering the latest news and products from the Progenitis Corporation. It’s filled with the usual slop. Who cleared what dungeon, updated territories in Elysius, and a massive number of ads for in-game shops. Wyn flips through it mindlessly; she’s played Progenitis’ games for years. Three years ago, they released Elysius, the first true Deep Immersion VRRPG on the market. The lure of living in another world was so tempting that it rose to the top of the charts in a matter of days. Wyn herself saved up money for months to buy the headset and game license.

  And now Progenitis had released their fancy new product: Eden. Everyone who has Elysius got the demo for the game, so long as they are older than 18. One of the major draws is that you can bring your old Elysius character into Eden for free, as long as you buy their new fancy headset. Wyn chuckles, no way she’ll get the chance to play that. She’ll just keep playing Elysius while everyone else starts playing Eden.

  “I got it here, Wyn,” says Alejandro, waving a small bag of pills in her direction.

  Wyn sets down the magazine and grabs the bag of medicine.

  “Thanks, Alejandro,” she says, tossing the usual payment on the counter.

  Alejandro smiles and counts up the cash. He nods; she had enough this time. Wyn breathes a sigh of relief and turns to leave, but Alejandro calls out to stop her.

  “Careful out there tonight. Be quick. Heard they were going to be patrolling the Gray Zones. Don’t let the Radiance catch you,” he says, urgency in his tone.

  Wyn nods, if the Radiance catches you after curfew, they’ll throw you in jail or worse. She can’t put her family through that; they need her. It’s bad enough that they’re forced to live in the Gray Zones in poverty, but to lose one of their own? It would be devastating. Wyn nods to the man and runs out the door towards home. She hears a Radiance Hover-patrol in the distance, mixed with the whirs of delivery drones flying overhead. She’ll have to be clever to get home safe.

  The distance isn’t far, but the direct route would expose her. Her best option is to dive into alleyways and cut through buildings to stay off the main road. Wyn ducks behind the old bakery, using the flickering light of an old advertisement to light her way forward. She takes a right at the next alley, and then a left. Her breathing turns to panting as she tries to suck in oxygen as quickly as possible. Generator fumes and noxious gas from the old factories fill her lungs, threatening to choke her, but she pushes on.

  Just as Wyn thinks she’s safe, she sees a bright light wash over the next intersection. She sucks in a breath and ducks behind a nearby trash can. She waits. One second. Five seconds. A full minute goes by before she dares peek out. Wyn turns her head around the corner and sees the light drifting up and away. She sighs; the danger is gone for now. An overloaded drone buzzes by, unaware of Wyn’s presence.

  “Just a delivery drone. Nothing to be worried about.”

  Wyn takes a moment to let her nervous system calm down before she begins again. After turning right into the alleyway, Wyn sees her salvation — home.

  “Wait. That doesn’t seem right,” says Wyn.

  She watches as the struggling drone hovers higher and higher until plopping its package on the windowsill of an apartment on the 14th floor. Wyn frowns. That’s not just any apartment; that’s her apartment.

  “The hell is that thing doing?”

  Delivery drones deliver to the front door, not the damn window. And as far as she knew, there were no packages on their way. Wyn shakes her head in confusion. Whatever is going on here, she’s going to find out. She sticks her head out past the alley for a moment to scan the area and spots no sign of any drones or Hover-Patrols. Wyn doesn’t wait; she sprints as fast as her legs will take her to the entrance of her apartment building, where she ducks inside, out of breath, but glad to have made it home safe.