Connections

I was born in 1998, so to pretty much everyone in the OASIS I'm a living late-forty fossil. And well, I don't blame them. I do have a few white hairs here and there. A few wrinkles perhaps. Not to mention I've lived through a lot. The Post-9/11 Paranoia, the Housing Bubble Burst, the Politicization of the 2010's, the Automation of the Workforce, the Korean Fallout, the Oil Droughts. And I was present in practically each and every event. That doesn't mean there weren't good things. I got to witness the birth of the Information Age, the sudden resurgence of anime and cartoons in popular media. The adoption of video games as mainstream. I had a pet dog too. Named him Rocky. And everyone's personal favorite, Halliday's brainchild. The OASIS.

I heard about it when it first came out. I was a Pizza Delivery driver at the time. If you don't know what that is, I don't blame you. Back before drones had pizza and everything else delivered to you, they hired people to drive it to you. All you had to do was pay a little extra. They even had things like delivery apps where you just hired a stranger to go to a restaurant, buy you the food, and get to your home, work or wherever you were. That was back in the 2010's.

Anyways, I had the job as a way to save up for college. I took a few years off after high school to work with my dad in construction. Yeah, I know. I did manual labor. My grades weren't exactly the best so my plan was to pay for community college then transfer to a four-year. I had an agreement with him. Work for him when I wasn't delivering. Simple. I got a bit crazy with the money I earned and bought my first OASIS starter kit the moment it went into market. I was excited for the thing. I saw demos on YouTube, other eCelebs talking about it. I wanted it. No, I needed it. And boom, I had it a few days after it went live. I had studied the whole manual, practically memorized it. I had looked at every detail of each carefully sculptured piece. The haptic gloves, giving me the ability to hold and feel things in the OASIS. The headset that gave me eyes and ears better than my own. Once I was in, it was hard to get me out. I never got out of it unless I was in college, at work, doing a favor for my parents, playing with Rocky, or lending my hard earned pizza cash to a younger sister who thinks money just comes to you because everyone else in the household works.

It set me back a bit. Mostly in time. Luckily, I was able to get into college. So long heavy lifting, hazardous materials and insomnia. Hello homework, student stress and insomnia. Wait, how did insomnia follow me to college? Oh yeah...OASIS side-effects. I really was sucked in almost permanently. Good thing my mom had me doing so many errands all the time or else I'd be full addicted. My dad? He was always working. I didn't see him until night time. In a way, some things never change.

I never really knew what's going on in my dad's mind sometimes. While everyone is losing their marbles in the OASIS, me and my dad were doing what we always did: argue with each other while we make a house. We had a new agreement: work with him in my freetime. Actually, no. The rest of my freetime outside of the OASIS is pretty much dominated by him. I was pretty much dogging him all the time. Of course, he ended up being the last member of my old family. I was alone after that. My mom died of heart disease in 2031. In 2044 my sister was said to have committed suicide along with her boyfriend. Not gonna lie, i kinda miss those two 'borrowing' money from me. My dad? Well, I'll explain later. And Rocky? Well he was a dog. He went like any good dog should go. Old Yeller style.

Now, I'm in Mexico. Living in a Podunk called Coacuyul, just a few miles from Tlapehuala, Guerrero. You wanna know how I went from living in the stacks to that speck of dust? I'll tell ya...

Winter was unusually warm this year. I remembered when I had to put on about three layers to keep my nuts from freezing over and shriveling like a raisin. Now, just jeans and a good flannel shirt was good enough. Hell my dad even decided we should camp out. Get up early, get to work and finish in time. We had this crazy job for a few months now to keep the stacks we lived in from tipping over like dominoes. It was simple really. We got the idea from a few buildings in major cities. Just put up bridges. Adds stability at the top, and shortens the distance when climbing between stacks. You know, in case people wanna talk IRL.

The stacks are essentially these wicked high structures made out of trailer homes. I know, stupid right? Why in the hell would we risk our asses living in Jenga-inspired deathtraps. We'll apparently because no one else could build houses. You'd think that if Mexicans stopped coming to the US, the rest of the people who were poor or needed work would line up at the Home Depot and build the homes we desperately need. But nope. We're all got welfare and food stamps and too busy in the OASIS to bother learning how to make a house, even though they have DIY tutorials online for that shit.

So we decided to connect the houses using bridges. It was just these wooden ones made using 2x8s. Surprisingly not all jobs were lost. They're just endangered species. We still need restaurants, we still need farmers. We still need fishermen and ranchers. And we still need foresters, miners and masons. And they pay a lot too. So we just ordered wood online, got some pulleys and a cross bar, and got the beams across. We had to get a safety system in place while working. We wore harnesses on our tool belts that way in case we slipped, we'd just pull the other guy up. My dad had one side of the bridge, and I had the other.

He used to be pretty fast. Hell, as a kid he was always saying "Apurate güey!" since I was a nervous kid. But now he's pretty much ancient. How much you ask? He was born in 1967. He's been around since the moon landing. He's 80 years of age! They call him Old Benny. Since you know, he's old, and his full name is Benito Avelardo Torres. Me? He named me Tomas Diego Torres. Or just Tom Torres. And before you ask, no it's not because it sounds like a superhero's secret identity like Miles Morales or Wade Wilson. Although I like the idea a lot. Turns out it's because of my grandpa. I got to meet the guy before he kicked the bucket. I don't know if he was nice to be because I was his grandson, or because he didn't see me like a failure like my dad. Maybe a bit of both. But he was a cool old man. Took me horseback riding when he could. Oh, and this was when I was a kid, like 8 years old. I was visiting for a month or two. And if you haven't figured it out yet, my dad is Mexican. Me? American but with Mexican products. I'm from Los Angeles. My dad crossed over in the 80s. There, happy?

So we got up at about 5am and kicked off the last of the work. Well, at least for me. My dad could still handle this pretty well on his own. The real issue was getting the material up there. So we put on the last of the needed 2x8s and had them up by the 2 side. They would be flushed with the base of the two platforms between stacks at the 8th level. Once there, they were suspended as we bolted them together. It's easy on paper but imagine trying to thread a needle while drifting in a Subaru. Wait, nevermind, you won't get that. Imagine trying to beat Pac-Man to the highest possible score on one quarter. That's how hard it is. So basically it was two geezers arguing about how to put a piece of wood into a piece of metal.

Once the basic skeleton was finished, we sat down by the edge of the base. We had with us a small electric griddle and some powdered eggs. The residents let us have some soy milk and I brought with me some corn flakes. They were a bit pricey but it was worth the expense. But then again, it's not much. I kept on remembering the mornings when the family was whole. Mom would get up early, and she'd have lunch ready for everyone. Mine would be bean and cheese sandwiches with some fruit and a juice can. Dad would put on the news to check on the weather and the latest traffic report. You know, back when the weather wasn't crazy and traffic was legal. My sister would complain about getting up late and she'd take forever to get ready. I would've already eaten my bowl of corn flakes with a few banana slices and some raisins tossed in for flavor. Once done, I got on my bike and rode to school. It wasn't long until I was really woken up by a gunshot in the distance.

I put my hand into my pocket and reached for something, looking around for the source. But it was drowned out. The old man sighed, looking down at some eggs made with water and powder. "We really fucked it up now…"

I knew what he meant by that. Global warming, a shitty government run by lunatics, and of course, guns everywhere. Even I had one. It was one I've had for a long time. He saw my hand sneak into my jacket.

"Don't tell me you have a gun too."

I didn't want to lie to him, but at the same time I didn't want to make him worry. He was pretty much anti-gun for a while, so it's a bit ironic that I had one. Then again it's also ironic that the one guy that doesn't play the OASIS has a son who pretty much profits off of it.

"Okay, I won't tell you I have a gun."

Of course, he'd know I would try to be a smartass. So he went for a different question. "What's in your pocket?"

I just had to admit it. So instead of saying anything, I just showed him my M9. Yep, an M9. The most basic weapon in history.

"Where did you get that?"

"US Army."

"You had that since you got out?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God. Why?"

"Uh, have you heard what just happened, right?"

"Yeah, and knowing you, I don't trust you with it."

"Fine. But you do know if I give you a gun, dispensed in my name, you won't be able to use it and you'll be breaking the law, right?"

"Look, forget the law here. I'm not keeping guns in my house!"

"Technically we live in separate houses pap. I mean, yours is bigger but-"

"That's beyond the point, Tomas!"

Okay, I'm gonna spare you the whole argument. I mean, you don't want to see an 80-something argue with a 40-something. It get's kinda boring after a while. After this point, I just let my dad ramble on. He usually talks about how it's better if people just went back to punching each other in a field. How we've lost our way and things were better back in the day. Old man ramblings after a while. It's one thing to say it once in a while. I know I do it. Only difference is I know when to shut up. This guy could become a master filibuster if he tried.

It was relatively short though. Fortunately I was able to get him to shut up by switching over to a different topic. So I decided to go with recent news. "You know, I heard FIFA is gonna fold soon."

He choked on some rehydrated eggs with that piece of news. "What?"

"Yeah. They might not do the World Cup anymore."

"Why not?"

"I dunno something about a drop in viewership or something…" Actually, that was happening in every sport. NFL, NBA, MLB, NHL, they were disbanding left and right. The only major sports organization that was still active at this point was the IOC, the International Olympic Committee.

That might not of been the best thing to tell him. I mean, the guy's a huge fan of soccer. Even I was crushed when I heard that and I'm only a casual fan. That's the one time we sit down on the couch, grab some cold ones and watch two teams running around the field trying to get a ball into a netted box.

"Well, here's praying that the Liga survives."

"Hey, at least we won the last one."

"That's right...Didn't think I'd ever see Mexico hold it up."

"Me neither…"

It wasn't long until we were done with breakfast. We packed up our stuff and were ready to get back to work. I felt pretty ready to go all day. That is if I had all day.

"Tomas, shouldn't you get ready to go home?"

"Why? It's 8 o'clock, right?" I pointed at the clock behind the window of one of the homes. 8:05 is what it said.

"Actually it's 8:25. Look. That clock is broken." He then popped out an old smartphone. A Samsung I think. He then showed that the time was actually 8:25. It also showed the weather for the next three days so that was proof it was connected to the internet.

"Wait a minute, pap. Are you telling me it's 8:25?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Damn it! I'm late for school!" I dropped the tools into the safety box and got ready to rappel down the stacks. "Hate to ditch ya like this old man but I really gotta go!"

"Yeah yeah...go home to your...OASIS whatcha-call-it."

"You're the best!"

In a way, I gotta be thankful for him. I mean, he didn't have to raise me. I knew plenty of people who grew up fatherless. Hell, I even knew people who would rather be fatherless. But I like him, at least when he wasn't all up in my grill. And well, I just wanna return the favor.

As soon as I hit the ground, I ran for the truck we had locked up in the garage. Right inside another safebox, was what I liked to call my personal getaway vehicle. I didn't exactly know what to call it. I just had an old snowboard which I modified to have bicycle tires and an electric motor. It was pretty much a motorized, all terrain skateboard. I guess I'll just call it a motorskate.

I used a handle to change the speed and brake. So once I had it going, it was off to the other side. I had memorized the layout of the whole place. Every shortcut, every passageway, the hills and valleys, puddles, staircases, ramps, everything. Surprisingly it's a breezy ride. There weren't many thugs doing out this morning I guess. Or they just decided to magically leave me alone. I usually had to ride with the M9 exposed so if any jackass was thinking of jumping on me they'd think twice. But I think by now they got the message. I think I've only been jumped like say, maybe five times. And I've shot probably eight guys.

Killing people isn't the craziest thing I've ever done though. Anyone can kill a person. To do it lightly, no. Unless you're in the middle of a radiated warzone surrounded by fanatics, you shouldn't have to kill anyone for reals, but it's not the craziest thing out there. For me, the craziest thing I've done is on this thing. There's a highway that goes between the stacks, pretty much splits it down the middle. The occasional armored food truck rolls by to sell produce and maybe buy some of our shit. One of the things that definitely pass by here are IOI personnel vehicles. Usually these things would come by in the hopes that they would snatch up the 'indebted' when they were left unguarded. They wouldn't actually go into the stacks. They wouldn't risk sending in their goons into a place crawling with old veterans, peddlers and people like me that lawfully own a gun. Anyways I made a bet with someone that I could tag one of those things. Technically I did. I had some premade stickers that had the IOI logo on it, the number 6, and a red circle with a cross on it. I usually looked for a parked vehicle in town and splash glue on it and slap the sticker on it. Sometimes if I was feeling extra cocky, I'd put them in a formation making a phallic image. But what really makes a ton of views is when I actually did it while riding right behind them. I would hook onto their vehicle, glue the sticker on and tap their vehicle before detaching. Got the whole thing recorded too. That video got me a lot of recognition on the Gunter boards. I'm surprised I wasn't caught but it looks like other kids tried it too. I guess this is what it feels like when you make a trend.

I made it back to my homestack. Just above, about a few stories was my corner of the world. The whole thing looked like it was ready to fall down, but my dad and I ran the test. Honestly, you could dance on the rooftop like a madman and the thing would be sturdier than the Empire State Building. I have. Even recorded the whole thing while playing an old guitar.

Anyways I passed by Mrs Gilmore's streamliner. She was eating her eggs as usual. Normally she'd invite anyone to come to her spot. Even invited me and my dad over for dinner after fixing her plumbing. She was this kind of woman that I like but honestly I don't feel that safe here.

"Morning Miles." She cracked open the window just as I was starting to climb up with the whole thing.

"Hey Mrs G."

"How's the construction job?"

"Eh, you know. It's getting there. By the way, did Wade pass by here?"

"Oh yeah, he passed by here just a while ago."

"Well, that pretty much means I'm gonna be late. Sorry we couldn't chat but I got a class to teach."

"No problem."

Wade was pretty much that kid I played with and noticed him grow up. I have a kid but, well you'll figure it out. Anyways, the kid was one of many who're out there going after Halliday's Easter Egg. It's a hidden secret within the game that if found, will grant the player Halliday's inheritance, including soul ownership of the OASIS. Old fart even left a clue to find it.

Three hidden keys open three secret gates

Wherein the errant will be tested for worthy traits

And those with the the skill to survive these straits

Will reach The End where the prize awaits

And this pretty much causes a lot of problems down the line. I mean, playing a game that can make you rich as hell? Who wouldn't want that. Well, not this asshole. I'm done fortune hunting. So long as some kid with a good head on his/her shoulders finds it, I'm good. I got all I need. Wade on the other hand. Jesus Christ, he's got no parents, his guardians treat him like crap, no non-OASIS life. Then again that applies to a lot of people nowadays. I let him come to my place sometimes, both in the OASIS and IRL.

There were two structures connected to each other in the Torres' level of the stacks. One is an old tour bus from back when live concerts were a thing. And the other is an old mobile safe, the kind that took cash in and out of banks to the reserves, as well as stores and other places. That was my part. The level was suppose to be the roof but hell, there were so many people coming here we just had to put the two on top. Again, it's safe. We did the math.

So I went in, empty with nothing but tools, a fold-open couch-bed, a mini kitchen, and a cabinet full of food and clothing. This was my dad's part of the stack. I had to sneak through the back of the bus and got into the security truck. I had it locked up so even if some curious dick tries to steal my stuff, he'd have to survive getting hit with a barrage of 5.56 NATO rounds from AR15s. I had a camera hidden just in case. You pretty much need both the lock key and the alarm key to get in safely.

I got in and locked up my motorskate hanging it inside the security truck. I had all of my stuff inside there. My laptop, modem and router. A couple of novels I kept over the years, some snacks, gun crates and ammo. And of course, my OASIS gear, right smack in the middle. I had a full set. A haptic suit to change into, after a shower of course. A pair of visors in high resolution, an essential of course. Haptic gloves, latest generation. And a recent addition, the omnidirectional positioning seat. The one I have is meant to simulate sitting down, leaning against walls, climb hills. Along with the haptic suit, it really does give you the feeling of immersion, kinda like jumping through a portal.

With everything set, all that was left was to turn on the console, put on the equipment and take my seat. I had to utter my login pass phrase of course. "General, we're opt con and ready to roll, over."

Identity Verification Successful

Welcome to OASIS, LtThompson!

Login Completed: 08:42:51 OST-2.10.2045

OPS#1873. Pretty much my second home here in the OASIS. My avatar materialized in the teachers lounge of the school. And what was the first thing I saw? Well, two round things, and a pair of glasses. I'm talking about Ms Hawthorne. She sat right in front of me with one hand on her cheek, adjusting her glasses a it. Blonde hair, green eyes, good skin, and of course huge land tracts. You'd think I'd be pretty excited to have her as a friend. But that's it. A friend. Thing is, it gets annoying to have her orbiting me.

"Good morning sweetie!"

"Morning Hawthorne."

"How's my big boy."

"Doin' alright. What about you Marilyn Monroe?"

She giggled like I was actually trying to flirt with her. But honestly, I'm just trying to get out without being an asshole. And in actuality, she was the more aggressive one here. She had me pressed against the wall, literally. Normally I'd hide in the woods or hide somewhere else. But I knew I'd be late and had to pay the price.

"So, how about we play around later. I know a nice quiet spot where we can-"

"Actually, I hate to tell you this, but Sandy's coming over to visit after this is done and well...she's starting to come around."

"Still trying to get things straightened out with her? Honey, come on…"

"Lady, unless you're wearing black and yellow I ain't your honey." I managed to slip out and went to the door. "Now if you excuse, I need to take my student to Normandy."

Okay, you wanna know why I bailed. Well, because that wasn't a woman. Nope. It was a a gay Asian guy posing as a hot librarian. Yeah, just think about that. Don't ask me how I know that. Loose lips sink ships you know. And what do I look like. Here's a hint: according to my dad, I'm an 8 year old. Well, technically I have the maturity of a 21 year old guy according to the OASIS. The basis of my avatar is pretty much me back when I was 21. A bit more lean though. Less fat, more muscle. My skin color was the same, eye color and hair color too. Only difference is I have a ponytail. And unlike my real self which has good eyesight, I wore a pair of Harry Potter-esque glasses. Have to look like a teacher somehow. Unless you looked at the Faculty ID I had on my neck, they'd think I'm another student. That's typically the variables of my character, though I kept my height. Five foot seven. Mainly because it was the same as the caliber gun I had on in the OASIS and I just liked making the joke. So really, it was a 32 year old bitch going after a 21 year old shorty but it's actually a younger dude going after an old guy. Try not to burn your brain cells thinking too hard.

The OPS, or OASIS Public Schools are pretty much a blessing for me. Where do i even start. Well, my own High School experience. I grew up going to Fremont High School back when I was a kid. You get the picture, right? Lots of drugs, getting beat up is a common occurrence and the teachers were so crappy they didn't even know half the stuff they were teaching. I know there's no more than 500,000 people who died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. So why did my history teacher claim there were millions dead and send me to detention when I corrected him. I'm surprised I even graduated. And of course, everyone's favorite topic, school shootings. Back when I was going to high school, there was a constant fear that one kid is finally gonna be fed up with all the bullying, harassment and gets his hands on a gun and just kill everyone. Usually the result ends up being either suicide of shot by a cop. They almost banned guns completely because of it. But now that most of the education system has practically migrated to the OASIS, I can still keep my guns, and students in the OASIS can walk calmly without fear of, well anything. You can look whatever you want to look like. You can be whatever gender, whatever race, whatever age, height, weight. And that's just within the OPS. Outside you can be an alien, an elf, an anthropomorphic animal, a cyborg, an orc, pretty much anything far and wide and in between.

The schools have some pretty strict rules about things, but apparently nothing about teachers trying to rape each other. I know I could just report it, but who the hell's gonna believe it. A guy getting done in by a babe? How can he not want it. But whatever, that's not the biggest problem I have.

Rules include things like keeping your character human. That's pretty much the first basic rule. Having a catgirl next to a zombie in the middle of the classroom is distracting, no excuse. Another isn't so much a rule, and more of a law of physics. No bullying, harassment, or swearing (exceptions may apply). The entire planet the schools take place in is a non-PvP zone. In other words, you can't touch another student if it potentially leads into harm. If it does happen, the system will immediately prompt it to stop and back off before calling in a teacher. And you bet we keep record. And verbal abuse is non-existent too. Pretty much, if you don't wanna hear a guy or bitch mouthing off in your ear you can block them. It even gives them a polite notification to fuck off. It works pretty well. I remember an anime that works like that. A teenage guy with his younger sister get sucked into an alternate world where literally all wars and conflicts are resolved through playing games, like poker, chest and video games if a society has them. I don't know if Halliday has seen it, but it would be awesome if he did.

But that doesn't mean things don't change. Everyone has their cliques, their archetypes they fall into. And they aren't that different. I could probably write a book and make a million bucks. But here's what I've seen:

Jocks: There's still sports being played in the OASIS. Football, soccer, basketball, swimming, cheer. And a few rich kid sports like archery, fencing, golf and even horseback riding. And then there's unorthodox sports like Quidditch, the broomstick sport from Harry potter, or that zero G team gunmatch from Ender's Game. But they still act like the jocks I grew up with. Not all of them were assholes. I've played soccer during high school but I don't consider myself a jock. For them, their sport is their life. This is what they'll remember when they leave. They're like gladiators back in ancient Rome. Hell, they might as well be considering the sports they play and how they play.

Fashionistas: You know what I mean. Those girls (or guys but typically girls) that are always talking about an avatar's color palette and clothing texture. How some people look like trash and how they're the forward thinkers in clothing design. Hell, they actually make their own clothing and go around selling it at school. At least they're doing something productive instead of just trashing kids. Some even praise other people's style.

Emo/Goths: There's always some group of kids that really becomes fascinated in the taboo. I get it. Some people really become interested in these things. But when you start wearing all black, put some grim imagery on your avatars' clothes, and try to become the modern-day Shakespeare, you're gonna get some dirty looks from people.

Nerds/Geeks: They came a long way from their hunkered rooms in the science lab. In general, they don't talk with anyone unless it's about things they like such as sci-fi movies, fantasy games, etc. Some of them are more focused on their studies though, kissing up to teachers for extra credit and getting high marks on tests. In a way, I kinda hate these kids sometimes since they're always bragging about shit. They talk about how they're all gonna succeed in life while everyone else is gonna be their minions. Oh my God, kid. Just shut up. I've seen your kind, and unless you have a million dollar idea or a plan that doesn't involve climbing up a non-existent ladder, you're gonna be in the same ship as everyone else.

Arts Kids: They're the ones with illusions of becoming actors and actresses, thinking they know the best films and TV shows. To them, Steven Spielberg, Tom Hanks and Elton John are God while Michael Bay, Adam Sandler and Justin Bieber are the Devil. Can't disagree though.

There's other types of cliques aside from the ones I listed, but you get the point. Despite the transfer, they still exist.

I finally got to my classroom, where everyone was seated just waiting for me to come in. So I got to the chalkboard, with the words "WW2 Unit Test Today. Simulation to follow." written on it. "Morning everyone."

"Good morning Mr Torres."

"So, I'm assuming everyone here is ready for the test. I'm pretty sure I can just give them to you and you'll ace it. Right?"

They all nodded, looking refreshed and anxious to just go through with it. It's probably the simulation I had prepared for them that's getting them excited. Not a good sign.

"Okay, here you go…" Instead of having someone hand out pages to the rest of the class, everyone had their worksheets manifest in front of them. They really thought of everything. All that's left is for them to grab a pencil from the dispenser on the side of their desks, and just fill in the blanks. They can't cheat since everyone's worksheets are privacy protected. You can't just look at everyone else's paper and expect it to be filled with answers. They'll actually be blank. So really, it's like you're taking a test in an empty room. And if you try to take of your visor in the middle of the test, I'll know. I'll get an indicator that someone took them off and you'll get your sheet taken away with a different test. So you have to take it all over. So yeah, either you know the subject or know how to take tests. Fortunately for the kids it's World War 2 I'm teaching them. Everyone knows World War 2.

So they finished pretty quickly. In about 15 minutes. Honestly, it wasn't really that hard, and it's not like I was trying to make it that hard anyways. And for me, it's not even the real test.

"Alright. So we have four choices…" I tapped the board and out came four images of famous events in World War 2. "So here's our choices. We have the Day of Infamy in Pearl Harbor. The Siege of Stalingrad, because who doesn't want to fight for Mother Russia. The D-Day invasion, you know, Operation Overlord. And finally we have Okinawa. I've been there before. It's real nice during the summer. Go ahead and make your votes."

On the desk of every student had a ballot. Once they marked the box of their vote, they just swiped it to the floor, which then made it disappear and add a number to the board. Some of the kids made their votes pretty quickly, while others were taking their sweet time trying to decide the horror. Once in, they board showed what was their choice.

D-Day-17

Okinawa-5

Stalingrad-2

Pearl Harbor-0

"Okay, looks like we're choosing that one. Well, I hope none of you had a heavy breakfast this morning. It's gonna be a rocky ride." I checked the screen on my desk, with various Green lights flashing, indicating that other teachers had their own classes ready. The simulation needed to have at least three classrooms ready to house the same simulation. So all that was left was my class. "Now if you check inside, you'll notice GI uniforms. You can either be a regular grunt, a medic, or a specialist. That's usually a sniper or a flamethrower or heavy. I'd go for grunt. Just trust me."

It didn't take long until they wore their GI uniforms and had M1 Garands, M1908 Springfields, M1911s, and Thompsons. The girls still looked like girls but their hair was in buns to let the helmets sit. Once done, the board created a gate for the kids to walk into, leading into an LCA. "Seatbelts everyone. Bus is here."

We got inside leaving no child behind. Once all were crammed into it, the gate closed sending us back to June 6th, 1944. The LCA purred forward just as the ocean rocked them back and forth. I was able to get a feeling for the ship's rocking back and forth. I watched as kids tried to get through the nausea of being on a boat in rocky waves. I don't know who has better gear or who has the more basic equipment. But it won't take long to figure out.

I was farther in the back of the LCA so I could instruct the students on what's ahead during the field trip. I had to yell to make sure they could hear me. "Alright. You kids know the drill already. Get to the beach, meet up by the sea wall and get ready to storm the enemy trenches. You're just there to neutralize them. Remember, this is only for extra credit so don't be disappointed if you don't get to see everything."

"That's one inspiring speech there sir." A David9 said before then arching down to spew his guts out.

"You ate too much cereal this morning, didn't you…"

"N-No sir...I had pancakes."

Another student, an Evelyn64, let her stomach out. "Yeah, always happens…Especially to kids with better gear."

"So we get to kill Nazis for real?"

"Yes Todd, but only if they're armed." The guy driving the LCA yelled out thirty seconds. Gunfire from afar grew loudly as other ships were beginning to be attacked. The booming from the incoming mortars echoed as they hammered into the sea. "I'll see you on the beach!"

The boat was just seconds away, just barely within moments of touching the sand. With a thud onto the floor, I then instructed one of my students to lower the door, Gabriel47. Within seconds of blowing the whistle. Gabriel and other poor students were blown to bits and full of holes, spewing blood and falling like dominoes.

"Over the sides! Over the sides!" They went to the side of the LCA as ordered as bullets came raining down. Others didn't make it out, but the few that did now had to struggle to stay afloat, and make it to shore before the equipment soaked up and forced them to sink. I swam over dragging some of my other students, reaching one of the barriers laid out on the beach. The tide was able to help, just as they made it to drier land.

Already one of the students was just sitting there, hiding against a hedgehog barrier, horrified by the carnage on the beach. They saw their fellow classmates be blown into pieces. Their entrails spilling out onto the sand. Normally when a player dies in the OASIS, they end up dropping all the equipment they had on them in a flurry of pixels. But in the D-Day simulation, their bodies stay in the environment. It was meant to be fully authentic, so much so that if a World War 2 vet went through it, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

Evan5 crawled over to another hedgehog barrier yelling at me to get my attention. The only problem is, I couldn't hear it. The shell that blew up besides me made my headset ring just as another student was sent flying. His body flew to the side while I just heard a simulate tinnitus ringing just as Evelyn64 started shaking my avatar back into focus, thinking I was passed out or killed. A couple of tears were shown as she started checked my vitals.

"Jesus Christ! Get up!"

I then looked around as the few student turned to me for guidance. "What the hell are you kids doing!?" Head up! The machine guns will get to us if you don't move!"

"Move where?!"

"Head right to that crater! But don't bunch up! You bunch up and it'll attract bullets like bees to honey!"

It didn't take long until one student dashed forward to another barrier. And the others followed suit with varying degrees of success. It took me a while to move and some of the other kids were stuck emotionally, not wanting to get killed. It's kind of strange to suddenly see how these kids went from being untouchable and full of confidence into witless, scared children clinging on to the barriers like it was their mom.

When I checked who picked what, the statistics were not that surprising. Most of the males picked the grunt role where they just carry an M1 Garand and Thompson. As for a large majority of the girls, they chose the roll of field medic. And others transported the ammunition to the seawall. I guess it made sense. I've seen a lot of statistics claiming women will take more of the support roles in each game. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule. I knew Samantha4 said she was going to be a sniper. And Gary22 was playing as a medic as well. Even says he plans on being a real doctor in real life. So I guess it's okay he sees a little bit of gore. Assuming car crashes are still a thing he's gonna need to get use to scenes like this.

It was agonizing to go any further. Some of the students were really freaking out about moving down the beach without getting hit by a bullet. Unlike the soldiers who actually fought with months of preparation for this assault, they didn't have the luxury. Or so I thought. Some kids were pretty good at it, taking quests in the OASIS, PvPing to get XP and loot. I doubt any of the other kids had any kind of preparation other than the hindsight that over 2,000 lives were lost in this assault. But within a few moments, a bit faster than the original 2 hours the real soldiers spent on Omaha Beach. Each inch gained felt like a mile, with digital toy soldiers with digital toy lives, families and dreams being taken away by a distant German machine gun. Some of them grabbed on to the students pleading for help as their entrails came out. I told them beforehand that they had the option to help their fellow soldiers. To at least make it back home, and get some extra credit. Of course, some would either bleed out, or get hit in the skull by a stray bullet. So really, it was one hell of a challenge to complete.

I managed to make it to the base of the seawall, with a few kids wisely following me. It was just under the nose of the Germans, not aiming down at us and unaware that we were still alive. Samantha4, Gary22, Evelyn64, Evan5 and Todd2 made it as well. All of them now a bit more acclimated to their new situation. Todd2 had with him the parts for a Bangalore torpedo, bit not all.

"Todd, what happened to your partner?"

"He's still in the channel sir! And I don't think he's coming out!"

Another student came by, flying close and shoving me over. "Sir, I'm Ricky27 from Mr Horowitz's class! Some of my classmates are coming over with you on this one!"

"Where's Mr Horowitz?"

"An MG round got him in the head sir! We brought what we could." He pulled out the remaining pieces of a Bangalore as another shell hit close by, taking more digital toy soldiers and students.

"Way to come prepared kid. Get under me and help out my friend Todd." I crawled over the boy just as a bullet grazed my helmet. The two kids then began assembling the explosive and pushed it closer to the barbed wire. Once it was at the right length, the two boys got the charge primed and ready. "Bangalore ready! Fire in the hole!"

Once it was pulled, they pushed the tubes in, creating a massive gap, giving them an opening to the trenches. "Sam, get ready to snipe the MG42. Todd, Ricky follow me and give cover fire."

"Yessir!"

They went along with me into the crater created by the torpedo. The machine gun then fired on us, ineffectively however since we were hiding behind slabs of concrete. Then Samantha4 took the shot, taking out the Gunners in the nest on the hill. It didn't take long until another one was shot down by one of the other students.

"Here's the real test kids! Neutralize the enemy! Go go go!"

Their gear then became hatred towards the Germans. Using the Thompson's, Garands, 1911s, and every weapon and ammunition they had, they went after the digital targets mercilessly. Machine gun nests were set ablaze by flamethrowers, frag grenades were lobbed into trenches. Some students even went after soldiers with bayonets. It was either practice for more questing and PvP, or just releasing of some pent-up anger. It wasn't long until the Germans began surrendering. Some came over slowly, complying with the orders given by students. Others feigned surrender and assaulted a student only to end up shot.

There was then another surprise that came out of the simulation. Some of the soldiers, German and American, had cards hanging above their heads. They were programed to pop up every time a student made physical contact. They were fairly simple. Name, birth and death year, nationality and a quick bio of the soldier. Some of them were blank, clearly an extra made strictly for the simulation. Others were far more elaborate, given that they were based on real life casualties and survivors.

I oversaw the behavior of the students as a simulation officer gave the report to a blank naval ship that a beach head has been established. One group of students, Matt19 and Ronald7 were both within range of two surrendering soldiers. It didn't sound like they were surrendering to them. They repeated constantly "Nie jetesmy Niemcami." Without much option, they shot the two. I of course, had to walk over.

"Matt! Ron! Don't tell me you just shot two unarmed soldiers, thus violating rules of war."

"It didn't sound like they were surrendering."

"I take German, sir. They weren't saying 'Ich gebe auf'."

"That's because their not German there kiddo." I tapped the soldiers to show what I meant and their cards showed up.

Albin Malinowski (PL)

Born 1926 Died 1944

Raised by a farming family in the outskirts of Ostrow. Was conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1943. Died trying to surrender to Allied Forces.

Nikolai Bartnik (PL)

Born 1927 Died 1944

Grew up in Warsaw through most of his life working at a bakery. Was then conscripted into the Wehrmacht in 1943. Died trying to surrender to Allied Forces.

"Congratulations boys, you killed Polish Conscripts. And the other said, 'Nikogo nie zabiłem'. Which means 'We killed no one' in Polish. At least you didn't break the time-space continuum...although that would've been cool."

They were in utter shock, believing they were just in thinking they were being punked by weird AI. But instead, they ended up repeated the same mistakes their ancestors did. Without much else to say, they then picked through their pockets, finding journals and other articles. They were allowed to take things from the simulation, so long as they wrote a three-page essay.

And then another group of students came around to me with another soldier in German clothing. The simulated soldier was between Samantha4 and Ricky27 and his guns were carried by the two. "So, what did you guys catch?"

"Sir, I think your simulation is broken. I'm pretty sure he's not speaking German."

"No he's not Sam...no he's not." I approached the man who was shivering at the recovery of the shock made by the battle. He just kept on repeating 'Jebal ssauji maseyo'. I of course knew what he meant. So to calm him down, I just told him. "Jinjeonghae. Neoneun deo isang ssaul geos-ida." This got him to shut up. I then tapped the Wehrmacht Cross on his helmet which showed his language settings. I got them swapped from Korean to English. It's something the teachers can do, but the students can try too. "Okay, can you understand me now?"

"Y-Yeah...I can."

"Alright." I blew a whistle to get the few remaining students to gather around. They came by circling around me forming a neat row. "Kids, meet Yang Kyoungjong. He's got one of the craziest experiences in all of WW2. A Korean conscripted into the Imperial Japanese Army to fight Russia, then captured and conscripted into the Red Army to fight the Nazis, and then conscripted into the Wehrmacht to fight us…crazy story, huh bud?"

"You're not gonna conscript me again, right?"

"Not unless you want to. But hey, I bet there's a town in Illinois with a house for sale. Maybe you can...hmm, I dunno. I mean, you can go back to Korea. But hell, US has its arms open for you."

"Okay…" He was pretty much confused for the most part. Of course he'd be confused. All he knew was that he's just waiting for this goddamn war to end so he can just live without anyone asking him to pick up a weapon. Didn't care if it was in Korea, the US or even South Africa. He just wanted to be done with the whole thing. I knew what that was like.

"Say, Mr Yang. You don't mind talking to these kids about the crap you had to go through, right?"

"Uh, sure sure…" The kids gathered around him wanting to ask him a dozen questions. But instead it was Yang who was taking the lead of the conversation for once. It was his story, he should have the right to give the details, so it should be.

I managed to sneak out from the group and strayed to an empty pillbox. The only things in there was a box of ammunition, an MG42 and a poor bastard named Hans Fischer. Out on the beach was, well the carnage of the whole battle. Bodies turned into mush with their guts spilling out. The blood staining the water and drowning the fish out to the sand. Combine that with just how gray everything is. It would make any one depressed. But this is pretty much my 53rd time doing this. Plus, I've seen a lot of World War 2 movies as a kid. Played a ton of games in that time period too. This place isn't tame at all, but it's nothing for me to be that shocked.

Gary22 came by finding out I split from the group. "Uh, Mr Torres? You in here?"

"Yeah…"

"Whatcha doing here?"

"Nothing much Gary...just taking in the view…"

He leaned against the wall of the pillbox, looking out to the same gut-littered beach. "Hey, how do you get away with showing us this? Last time I checked, this kind of content is prohibited."

"So are swastikas. But because you guys are under adult supervision and because it's for educational purposes. Besides, I figured it would scare you kids straight. Get you to be a bit nicer to other people in the OASIS."

"Yeah, right…"

I wanted to ask Gary about it to try to change the subject. "So, what do you think? Halliday isn't the only one that can hide a good Easter Egg."

"It's cool...doesn't give you billions of dollars, but it's cool."

"Yep…" I knew half my students were gunters, (just call yourself egg hunters for Christ's sake.) And most of them took Advanced OASIS studies, an elective that taught you everything about the Gregarious Gaming Systems (GGS), James Halliday, Ogden Morrow, and every aspect of the OASIS short of the Easter Eggs, including the economics and philosophy of the game. I tell them to pick better electives but, hey I took a college prep class. Frankly I was better off taking Auto Shop.

But Gary got us back on the same topic. "So, was it like this in Korea?"

"Not really. To tell you the truth, we pretty much mopped the floor with them."

"Right. Is it true that Halliday sold the tech to the US Army and that's why we started winning the wars?"

"Hmm..not really. But a lot of the soldiers started playing the OASIS when it came out."

"Really?"

"Well I was playing for sure…"

Not a complete lie. Technically they couldn't lay their hands on GGS. But, they were going after interns. They showered them with offers to join the military, bonuses, scholarships, free tuition. And all they had to do, was to make a version of it to train soldiers for war. Seems logical. Why waste precious oil, resources and energy simulating battles with outdoor exercises when you can have realistic simulations that bring you much closer to the real thing? The thinking is thanks to a LtCol (ret.) David Grossman. According to a book he wrote called Assassination Generation, kids are so exposed to violent content, that they are actually killing people in real life. Last time I checked it's because of excessive and unchecked bullying, easy access to firearms and psychological disorder. But the other book he wrote, On Combat, the US military should take advantage of this. Newsflash dumbass! They've been doing it since the first video games were invented! In fact, they still make them! Tank simulators, Dogfight simulators, Boots-on-the-ground. Activision/Atari, EA, Nintendo. All of them were contracted at one point or another to make interactive propaganda. But hey, what do I know. I'm just a 40 something who joined the military and was the guy who made a war simulator under a US Army contract.

"Mr Torres...where do you think Halliday hid his Easter Egg?"

And here we go again, I thought. "Honestly kid, if I knew I'd just shut down the whole damn thing. Just kidding friend."

"Don't...just don't."

"Alright buddy. Here's a Socratic for you. What is an Easter Egg?"

"Hmm?"

"Answer that friend…"

He thought of it for a moment before talking to me. "It's a hidden secret inside a game."

"Good...but what about the first one? The one from Atari 2600's Adventure."

"Oh...it's a dot in the walls of the game and you have to take it to the start of the game. It showed the creator's name."

"Exactly. In other words, it's a creator's way of saying 'I'm glad you're appreciating the effort I made. Here's something that I think you'll like.'"

"Okay...don't know what you mean…"

"You gotta screw around to find it. Break a few rules."

"Huh?"

"Here's what I mean. There's a weird glitch I remember from an old World War 2 game."

"Which one?"

"Blazing Angels: Squadrons of World War II. It's a game made by Ubisoft in 2007 about a fictional Eagle Squadron. From 1940 to 1945. Not historically accurate in story but who gives a flying turd."

"Right."

"Anyways, during the Guadalcanal mission, I had trouble landing the P-40 they put me in after they shot it. I swear I almost gave up. But the I decided, 'screw it, I'll just land it before they shoot me.' So I did and I still end up shot. But at least I'm able to swap planes."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"It's a game. That's the point. Anyways, I was playing on a PS3. But a friend of mine tried it on an XBOX 360. Turns out he couldn't do the mission either."

"Okay...your point?"

"You gotta do something no normal person would expect. That makes Easter Eggs special. So Halliday's Easter Egg's gotta be somewhere no one would expect. Forget the PVP zones. Forget the references for a sec. It'll help eventually but in solving it, not in finding it. The Almanac, the Pop Culture Trivia, it's all to mess with idiots like IOI, to keep them from the Egg."

I'm pretty sure he didn't get what I'm talking about. "Oh...kay."

"Ah forget it. Come on...you're gonna be late for class." Outside of the pillbox, the gate back to the classroom opened and let the rest of my students through, leaving Yang in Normandy.