Glass doors reflected my tired face as I entered the hotel. More trash the night shift hadn't bothered to change. Fast food wrappers and coffee cups spilled from the overflowing bin. Behind the front desk sat Josh, a baby-faced kid who couldn't be more than seventeen. His blue polo was stained brown, making me wonder why our boss even bothered with uniforms.
"Hey man," Josh called. "You're late."
"Yeah, sorry about that. Had to wait out the rain." There was no rain. But arguing would just lead to excuses about why he needed to leave early, and lectures about respecting other people's time. Not worth the hassle.
He pulled out his phone, typing furiously while I settled in behind the desk. I prayed he wouldn't launch into another conspiracy theory.
Josh was a piece of work - champion of "free speech" as long as you agreed with him. Challenge his views and he'd dodge and deflect until you gave up. He took even friendly advice as a personal attack. The guy who insisted there were 100 minutes in an hour wasn't exactly a bastion of wisdom.
"Did you see the news this morning?" And there it was. I sighed.
"No Josh, what big story?"
These conversations were pure theater. Neither of us wanted to talk, neither interested in changing minds. Just going through motions to seem civil.
"Yeah man! That biased news station was running a story about Carl Jung. They said one of those weird new VR games confirmed his theories."
"VR games and Carl Jung? What are you talking about?"
I used to be huge into VR gaming, back when I could afford it. Jung was a psychologist - not much overlap there. Though I remembered there was supposed to be a big release today. Not that I had the money to try it.
The notification that woke me - dancing cat, flashing lights. Right. Infinity Online. Some new "full immersion" tech with state-of-the-art AI. What that had to do with Jung was beyond me.
"Here, look!" Josh shoved his phone at my face, apps scattered chaotically across the screen in varying sizes. How could anyone read text that large?
I pulled up the article on my own phone instead. The title caught my eye: "A New Reality, A New World: The Egregore Odyssey"
The developer, Egregore Digital, claimed they'd revolutionized gaming. Everyone said that. But this was different - their AI supposedly interfaced directly with players' minds, creating personalized stories based on personality and memory. It would group people by location, letting collective perception shape reputation and standing.
The name itself was telling - an egregore was an entity born from group thought. Like Santa Claus, if he existed. It seemed impossible. Games always promised personalized experiences but never delivered. Too much dev time for features most players never saw. But an AI making real-time changes? Both fascinating and terrifying.
"Interesting stuff, Josh, but didn't take you for a gamer," I said. Unless you counted shooting bottles with stolen rifles at his uncle's farm.
"Oh, I'm not. The interesting part's further down - the real reason it made news."
I scrolled through until I found it: Players who have logged in report their character sheet remains active even after leaving the game. That couldn't be right. The company would face lawsuits if they were causing brain damage. How else could people think they still had access to a virtual system after logging out?
"How did that make it through testing?" I asked. "Seems like basic QA would catch that."
"It's a government conspiracy, man!" Josh snorted. "That's why they buried it at the bottom. People just read headlines these days!" He rummaged through his backpack - the one he wasn't supposed to have after getting caught with vodka three times. "Open your eyes, stop being a sheep!" He thrust a pamphlet at me.
I needed a break from this. "Sure Josh, I'll look into it." And I would - not the conspiracy nonsense, but Infinity Online itself. If the article was accurate, this could revolutionize gaming. Gaming had been my life once, before reality got in the way.
The conversation made me think of Dan Darlington - Daring Dan, back in the day. We'd been close through high school and after, early adopters of everything from 8-bit to VR. But time erodes relationships when neither person makes the effort.
Social media could fix that. I rarely used the apps anymore, content to float through life. But things change. I found his gamertag -
When I looked up, Josh was hovering expectantly.
"What now?"
"Well... we're having a rally tomorrow. You should come - you seem smart." He held out the pamphlet.
I wished I could speak my mind. But customer service requires diplomacy, unless you want lawsuits.
"I'll think about it. Got lunch plans with an old friend." I started my shift paperwork, dismissing him. He left without a goodbye.
***
The paperwork could wait - it was early spring, our slow season. I pulled up more articles about Infinity Online. Most covered the "Eternals" - players who claimed they could still access game systems after logging out.
Third-hand accounts mostly, friends of friends. One interview stood out: a player declaring himself the "Ideal of War, here to bring conquest and death to all who oppose me." Maybe he'd been unstable before the brain damage. The more I searched, the less credible it seemed. Probably just a PR stunt - no such thing as bad publicity.
Finally, I found a forum post detailing the game's systems. The AI scanned users and built a base class from their psyche, with options rooted in dream and memory. Vague, but intriguing.
Take Ideals - defining character traits that became powers. The Ideal of Justice could detect lies or punish criminals. Hope could inspire allies or heal wounds. But Ideals were just the beginning.
Great deeds would build fame or notoriety as others took notice, eventually earning you a Legend based on your actions. Jobs ranged from practical crafts to adventuring. Titles could be earned but never stolen.
Then there were Mythos - the supernatural elements. Gods had their own Mythos defining their domains. Players could gain them too, though they seemed the hardest to obtain and master. You had to be subtle, building your reputation through whispers and shadows.
The implications hit me like a freight train. Every action mattered. No fetch quests - even gathering lumber would affect how NPCs saw you, shaping your powers. It was brilliant and terrifying.
They were messing with people's minds. How had this passed testing? Because it was intentional. I understood now, and the revelation chilled me.
Companies had been eroding privacy and security for years, users cheering as basic rights vanished. Convenience trumped safety. Entertainment trumped everything. The Romans knew this, hosting gladiatorial games to distract the masses.
The government would give them a slap on the wrist at most - imagine the outrage if they shut it down. If this caught on - and it would - people would sell their souls before accepting inconvenience.
Religion used to be the opiate of the masses. Now online entertainment filled that role. Religion offered peace in a cruel world, but gaming let you escape that world entirely. A refuge so complete you forgot why reality hurt.
And now people were becoming the game itself. I needed that lunch with Dan more than ever.
Looking at my wrist, I froze. A faint outline of an infinity symbol was appearing on my skin.
"Josh!?" I called, but Josh had left. Reality was about to change, and I had no idea what was coming.