Falling into the simulation didn't feel like falling at all. It felt like being shattered into a billion pieces of light and then being stitched back together by a blind tailor.
One second, I was in the freezing, dark server room with Razack’s hand on my wrist; the next, I was standing in a meadow so green it hurt my eyes. The sun was warm, the air smelled of jasmine and honey, and the sound of a distant piano played a melody I knew I should remember.
But something was wrong. The sky wasn't blue it was a pulsing, digital violet, and the edges of the trees flickered like a dying television screen.
"Christine?"
I spun around. Standing near a small wooden playhouse were the children. They looked exactly as they did in Isaac’s photos the little girl with her braided hair and the boy with h
