Prologue
Volker
The scars that I had been given quickly healed in less than a day, even though the doctor that admitted me to the emergency room that day around noon had four different machines holding my chest together and another to keep the rate of blood loss to a minimum. I had been under constant monitoring while I was unconscious, and awoke to the surprise and confusion of half a dozen people in the room, trying to believe a doctor trying to inform them that I should have died with the wounds I arrived at the hospital with.
The sun was setting by then, the day after I returned from the land that I had traveled with a group I no longer am with. Disoriented, I couldn't tell you what transpired on the way home to my relatives. I faintly remembered school or my missing friends, as the only thing I could recall was the horror I felt reentering the temple where gods know what transpired.
However, a certain melancholy pervaded once I received another letter, but this time I wouldn't be the one the mission is focused on.
...
The lamely textured sky darkened, along with the terribly unrealistic trees and ground. The VR simulator sucked, and the chunky flatness and horrible resolution that made up the land choked my pride of even continuing. The admins thought this was turn of the century technology, with full encompassing and dynamic visuals... but it was closer to being in a NES game with free roam. It made me want to break every little bit of code this world was made up of and rebuild it myself.
Bleep. "Yeah, I know," I retorted. I didn't even want to stay here, much less have to deal with the admins anymore. I waved my hands and the menu popped up like usual when I started. I pressed the exit button like I practiced and closed my eyes. Feeling the sensation of the machine returning my conscious to the body that was laying in the pod, I mentally sighed. I sincerely hope the graphic designer improves the graphics quality.
I opened my eyes as the technicians released the binds on the VR caster and I removed the headset, replacing it on its spot next to the chair I had been on.
"How are you feeling, Miss Iceni?" the man, Mike, asked, helping me to my feet.
"Kinda glad I didn't get stuck in that awful place. The graphics are terrible," I told him, and he gave a hearty chuckle.
"Yeah, Jake threw the textures together in a couple minutes and spent the rest of the time adding them to the environment. He's already working on the proper textures and says he'll be done in an hour," Mike informed me.
"He'd better hurry," I told him. Mike lead me through the door to the main control room where the rest of the men and ladies were awaiting us.
"Oh, so you already got her out," Keith spoke up, a bit perplexed by something.
"Yep. You think I went in there just-"
"No, but there's still some ghost data. I'll just delete it," Keith opted, turning back toward the monitor.
"Has Jake...?" Mike asked, looking toward another person in the room.
"Check yourself," Riley answered, waving toward the other door, which Mike strode out of. "Still standing on two feet, I see. Do you feel any dizziness, Miss Iceni?"
"No, I-"
The light blinked out. For a moment there was an even silence, then the lights returned.
"Oh, shit," Keith muttered under his breath, and a glance at his monitor showed that the Ghost Data had become a virus and hijacked the system. No longer in control, Keith hurried over to cut the power, and the room fell dark again. Despite this, the monitor spat out a short message before darkening. Mike appeared in the doorway back to the room, breathing slightly audiable.
"You guys might want to see this," he said rushed, when the monitor turned back on with the message still there.
NICE TRY.