When I regain consciousness, my head is aching with a searing pain, worse than any hangover I’ve ever experienced. I force open my eyes, moaning with the effort. Blinking away the fog of numbing narcotics, I struggle to see through the blurry haze before me. Somehow, I’ve lost my glasses, and I’m practically blind without them. The last thing I remember was boarding the private jet that was meant to take me and six other new recruits to the Winsworth Interactive Company’s week-long training bootcamp. The air hostess served us champagne after takeoff, and… and… and after that, there’s nothing. The rest is a blank slate, wiped of all memory.
Wherever I am now, it’s definitely not the inside of a private jet cabin. Even without my glasses, I can tell that I’m in a much larger space, with hi
