A heavy warmth pressed down on ProlixalParagon, a sensation far removed from the crisp desert air he had known upon logging in. A soft, yielding surface cradled his body, and the gentle sway beneath him spoke of movement long since ceased. He stirred groggily, his consciousness slowly pulling itself from the depths of a dream he couldn't quite grasp – something about intricate knots and the whispering of the wind. His glowing eyes fluttered open, blinking against the muted light that filtered through the canvas walls of what he quickly recognized as a vardo.
The interior was cozy, if cluttered. Tapestries woven with vibrant threads depicting scenes of desert landscapes and mythical creatures hung from the curved wooden ribs of the wagon. Sacks filled with various goods lay tucked into corners, their shapes hinting at the diverse wares of the Vermillion Troupe. The air carried a faint, lingering scent of woodsmoke and spices, a familiar aroma that had become associated with the caravan. For a moment, a sense of peaceful disorientation washed over him. He stretched his limbs, the soft rustle of his white fur containing swirls and patterns of rich black a comforting sound.
Then, the fragmented memories of the previous evening flooded back: the urgency surrounding Larka’s disappearance, his offer to help, and the growing weariness that had eventually overtaken him. He vaguely recalled settling into what must have been a spare bedroll within one of the vardos, intending only to rest for a short while before rejoining the search. A jolt of panic shot through him. A short while. That thought evaporated as the angle of the light filtering through the canvas seemed far too advanced for early morning.
His heart began to pound against his ribs. How long had he been asleep? The search for the missing Fennician child would surely be well underway. Guilt gnawed at him; his promise to help felt flimsy now, overshadowed by his own lapse in awareness. With a swift, almost frantic mental command, ProlixalParagon brought up his HUD. A translucent overlay shimmered into his vision, displaying his vital statistics and, crucially, the in-game time.
His breath hitched in his throat. The digital clock read 08:37. Eight thirty-seven. Late morning. A full eight in-game hours had bled away while he lay unconscious in this virtual bedroll. His mind raced, the 4:1 time dilation ratio instantly calculating the real-world cost. Eight hours in Ludere Online equated to two full hours in the Alluring Realms facility.
A cold dread washed over him, far more potent than any in-game threat he had yet encountered. Two hours. That meant it was well past nine in the real world. His shift was supposed to end at six AM. He was catastrophically late. The image of Dave Smith’s stern face flashed in his mind, along with the precarious nature of the opportunity he had been granted. This wasn't just a missed alarm; this was a blatant disregard for his real-world responsibilities, a potential betrayal of the trust placed in him.
He scrambled to a sitting position, his digitigrade legs finding purchase on the uneven floor of the vardo. He had to get out, had to return. The vibrant world around him, the intricate details he had been so eager to explore, now seemed like a gilded cage holding him captive. The search for Larka, the mysteries of ludere online, his burgeoning understanding of his Fennician heritage – all of it paled in comparison to the immediate threat of his real-world predicament.
Another frantic mental command initiated the logout sequence. The familiar menu appeared, stark and functional against the richly decorated backdrop of the vardo. His gaze darted to the "Logout" option, his mental cursor hovering over it. A surge of anxiety coursed through him. What would he find upon his return? Had anyone noticed his prolonged absence? Would the D.I.V.E. pod still be in the storage room?
Ignoring the nagging tendrils of curiosity about what he was leaving behind, ProlixalParagon focused all his will on the "Confirm Logout" button. The world around him began to dissolve, the warm hues of the vardo fading into a swirling vortex of digital colors. The gentle sway beneath him ceased, replaced by a disconcerting feeling of weightlessness as his consciousness began its rapid transition back to the physical realm.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vibrant tapestry of Ludere Online vanished entirely. Bennett’s eyes snapped open, his senses reeling from the abrupt shift. The familiar, sterile hum of the Lazarus Pod filled his ears, and the cool, smooth plastic of the helmet pressed against his temples. The cramped confines of the storage room swam into focus, the dim light casting long shadows from the stacks of discarded equipment. He fumbled for the release mechanism, his fingers clumsy with residual panic.
The hatch hissed open, his gaze immediately snapping to the digital clock on the wall. 09:41. Zero nine forty-one. Nine forty-one AM. A wave of nausea washed over him, a potent cocktail of relief and sheer terror. He was hours late. He had to move, and fast. The vibrant fur of ProlixalParagon was gone, replaced by the clammy discomfort of his work uniform clinging to his skin. The mysteries of the desert and the plight of the missing child were momentarily forgotten, eclipsed by the looming specter of his dereliction of duty.
Bennett stumbled out of the D.I.V.E. pod, the sterile hum of the storage room a jarring assault on his senses after the vibrant, sun-drenched world he had just abruptly left. Nine forty-one AM. The numbers on the digital clock blared like an accusation. Hours past his scheduled clock-out time of six AM. Hours past the time he was meant to report to Dave. A cold wave of dread washed over him, heavier and more suffocating than the desert heat he had just experienced as ProlixalParagon.
His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat mirroring the panic seizing his thoughts. He had jeopardized everything. Dave's unexpected offer, a lifeline he had barely grasped, now felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The image of Dave's stern, yet ultimately hopeful, expression as he had left the storage room flashed in his mind, quickly replaced by the imagined disappointment and anger that surely awaited him.
He didn't dare linger in the storage room, the site of his catastrophic lapse in judgment. The cool plastic of the helmet felt alien in his trembling hands as he placed it back on its cradle within the pod. He had to face the music. He had to make his report, however late, however inadequate it might now seem.
With a surge of adrenaline, Bennett burst out of the storage room, glancing frantically down the quiet hallway. The usual early morning hum of the facility was absent, replaced by a stillness that felt ominous. Most of the day staff would be in full swing by now. He imagined the curious or perhaps accusatory glances he might encounter.
He resisted the urge to clock out. That would only further emphasize his tardiness and likely trigger immediate scrutiny. His priority was to reach Dave's office, to offer some semblance of an explanation, to beg for understanding, and to reiterate his commitment to the opportunity he had been given.
His footsteps echoed with an unsettling loudness in the otherwise silent administrative wing as he practically ran towards Dave's office. His brown wristband, usually a mundane marker of his job, now felt like a scarlet letter, broadcasting his unauthorized activities and his subsequent negligence.
He tried to gather his thoughts, to formulate some coherent explanation for his tardiness. How could he possibly explain falling asleep in a virtual world? It sounded ludicrous, irresponsible, a betrayal of the serious terms Dave had laid out. He thought of Brecken, his son's fragile health, the crucial health benefits tied to this job. The weight of his responsibility crashed down on him, compounding his panic with a crushing guilt.
Reaching Dave's office, Bennett’s breath came in ragged gasps. The sleek, modern door seemed to loom before him like a gateway to judgment. He hesitated for a fleeting moment, his hand hovering above the cool surface, a knot of fear tightening in his stomach. He smoothed down his rumpled uniform, a futile attempt to appear more composed than he felt.
He raised his hand and gave a light, hurried knock. He waited, every second feeling like an eternity, the silence amplifying the frantic beating of his heart. He could hear the faint murmur of voices from within, and his anxiety spiked. Was Dave already in a meeting? Had his absence been noted?
Finally, after what felt like an age, Dave’s calm voice responded, “Come in”.
Swallowing hard, Bennett pushed open the door and stepped into the CEO’s office, his gaze immediately locking onto Dave, who was indeed seated behind his large, uncluttered desk. The holographic display flickered softly in the air, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil churning within Bennett. Dave looked up, his expression… unreadable. It wasn't the outright anger Bennett had feared, but something perhaps more unsettling: a quiet, assessing gaze that seemed to penetrate his very core. The weight of his lateness, his transgression, hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating.
Dave’s gaze remained fixed on Bennett for a long moment, his expression still betraying nothing of his inner thoughts. The silence in the office stretched taut, amplifying Bennett’s already racing pulse. Finally, Dave inclined his head slightly towards the door Bennett had left ajar in his haste. “Mr. Davies, if you would be so kind as to close the door.”
Bennett, still reeling from the near-catastrophic realization of his lateness, fumbled with the door handle, his movements jerky. The soft click as the door latched shut seemed to punctuate his anxiety. He turned back to face Dave, who was now leaning back slightly in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him, his gaze direct and unwavering.
“Mr. Davies,” Dave began, his voice calm and even, yet with an undercurrent that made Bennett’s stomach clench, “you were scheduled to report at six AM and subsequently clock out. It is currently nine forty-three AM. That is… a significant deviation from your expected schedule. Care to enlighten me as to the reason for your tardiness?”
The question, delivered without anger but with an undeniable weight of expectation, sent a fresh wave of panic through Bennett. He knew he had to be honest, at least to a degree, though the full truth felt impossibly ridiculous. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking nervously around the impeccably organized office before settling back on Dave.
“Mr. Smith, sir,” Bennett began, his voice a rushed whisper, “I… I apologize. Profoundly. There’s really no excuse, but… but it’s related to… to the D.I.V.E. pod in the storage room.” He hesitated, bracing himself for an explosion of anger. When it didn’t immediately come, he continued, the words tumbling out in a torrent of guilt and fluster.
“After completing my normally scheduled duties…” Bennett gestured vaguely, trying to encompass the extraordinary circumstances of their previous encounter. “I… I logged back into Ludere Online, as you suggested. I wanted to continue exploring, to gather more information for you, about the desert environment and the Red Fox Caravan, like you asked.” He wanted to emphasize his diligence in following Dave’s directive.
He took a ragged breath, the absurdity of what he was about to say hitting him full force. “And… and well, sir, I… I was observing a branch of the Red Fox Caravan. Instead of the tents I had initially imagined when i read about them in the forum, they were traveling in miniature houses on wheels, quite intricately decorated. I later learned this group is called the Vermillion Troupe”. He took a breath “The Vermillion Troupe travels in twenty vardo-style wagons and three Conestoga wagons. I wanted to observe their interactions and see if I could glean anything about their activities or connections within the desert region. Learn about their culture and delve into how well their individual personalities were developed.”
“The desert environment… it was quite immersive, sir. The heat, the stillness… I ehlped locate one of their lost children and they welcomed me, offering me a place to stay as well as make me an outfit which i accepted then fully intended to log out after really studying the details of the inside of the wagon. The vardo wagons, almost like little homes, are pulled by beasts of burden. I was taking notes, mentally, of course, trying to remember everything for my report…” His voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to his nervously fidgeting hands. He remembered the vibrant colors and intricate beadwork adorning the caravans.
He looked up again, his expression a mixture of shame and desperate sincerity. “And then, sir… and this sounds completely unbelievable, I know, but… I must have fallen asleep. In the game. I… I don’t know how it happened. One moment I was alert, observing the Vermillion Troupe and their vardo wagons, and the next… I woke up in my avatar, in the game, and the in-game clock… it was hours later.” He concluded his explanation in a rush of guilt, his voice barely a whisper. “I am so incredibly sorry, Mr. Smith. It was irresponsible, unprofessional, and it jeopardizes everything you… you offered me. I understand if there are consequences.” He knew that as a Fennician, ProlixalParagon likely possessed heightened senses, making his lapse even more inexplicable.
Dave listened to Bennett’s frantic explanation without interruption, his expression remaining remarkably neutral, almost unnervingly so. The only movement was the slight flicker of the holographic display on his desk. When Bennett finally fell silent, panting slightly, Dave remained still for a long moment, his gaze fixed on Bennett, but seemingly looking through him.
Then, slowly, deliberately, Dave leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his steepled fingers now resting beneath his chin. His gaze intensified, and a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps intense curiosity – finally crossed his features.
“You fell asleep… in Ludere Online, Mr. Davies?” he repeated, the question devoid of any discernible emotion. “You are stating that while fully immersed in the Deeply Immersive Virtual Environment, your consciousness experienced a state akin to sleep?”
Bennett nodded miserably, unable to meet Dave’s piercing gaze. “Yes, sir. It sounds… impossible, I know. But that is what happened.”
A beat of silence passed. Then, Dave asked, his voice now carrying a distinct note of scientific curiosity, “Tell me, Mr. Davies… how did you sleep? Were there any… oddities? Any unusual sensations or lack thereof? Describe the experience, if you can.” He reached a hand towards his desk, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface before he picked up a sleek, black tablet. As he turned it on, the screen illuminating his face with a soft glow, he continued, his gaze now fixed on the device. “This would be… unprecedented. We have extensive neural monitoring data from all our testers. No one has ever registered a sleep state within the D.I.V.E. units. You may very well be the first.” He began to tap and swipe at the tablet, his focus momentarily shifting to the data displayed on the screen.
Dave listened intently to Bennett’s stammered response about the Vermillion Troupe and their vardo wagons, his gaze fixed on the tablet in his hands. He swiped and tapped, seemingly cross-referencing Bennett’s unbelievable account with the neural monitoring data he was accessing.
After a long moment, without looking up from the tablet, Dave spoke, his voice still measured but now carrying a distinct air of intrigue. “Vardo wagons, you say? Not tents?”. He paused, his fingers still flitting across the screen. “The Red Fox Caravan is generally documented as utilizing more traditional nomadic structures. A branch… the Vermillion Troupe… traveling with wagons. Interesting.” This detail seemed to pique his intellectual curiosity, suggesting Bennett's observation, however accidental, might hold unforeseen significance.
He finally looked up, his gaze sharp and direct. “Mr. Davies, this… incident, this potential breakthrough, requires further investigation. Your experience is anomalous, and if it can be replicated and understood, it could have profound implications for the D.I.V.E. technology.”. He tapped the tablet against his desk, a decisive gesture. “Therefore, I am amending your work schedule, effective immediately. Instead of your current five-day week, you will now work six days a week. Your day off will remain the same, but you will now have one full 24-hour period dedicated solely to immersion in Ludere Online.”
Bennett stared at him, his mind reeling. This was even more unexpected than the initial reprieve. “Sir… a full day?”
Dave nodded, his expression firm. “Yes. This includes allocated time for sleep within the game environment. We need to gather more data on this phenomenon. You will log in at the start of your designated ‘immersion day’ and remain within Ludere Online for the entire period, unless a critical real-world need arises. You will then provide me with a detailed report of your experiences, focusing particularly on any sensations, environmental factors, or activities that might precede or accompany these… sleep episodes.”
Dave leaned back, his gaze intense. “This is still under the same terms as our previous agreement, Mr. Davies. Your janitorial duties must not suffer. This dedicated immersion time is a controlled experiment, a way for you to contribute in a far more significant manner than simply cleaning the floors. Do you understand?”
Bennett swallowed hard, a mixture of trepidation and exhilaration swirling within him. A whole day to explore Ludere Online, with sanctioned sleep! This was beyond his wildest dreams. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Dave tapped the tablet again. “Good. Now, tell me more about this Vermillion Troupe. Where were they located? What were their activities? Any specific individuals you observed?” His scientific curiosity seemed to have taken over, the potential implications of Bennett’s “sleep” now intertwined with the specifics of his in-game observations.
Bennett, still slightly stunned by the schedule change, focused on recalling the details of his encounter. “They were… further out in the desert than I had initially ventured. It felt like a significant distance from the initial spawn area. The landscape was mostly dunes and rocky outcrops. The Vermillion Troupe had set up a temporary encampment. I observed them from a distance, near some large rock formations.” He remembered the vibrant colors of the vardo wagons, more like miniature, mobile homes than simple transport. “The wagons were quite ornate, with intricate carvings and brightly colored paint. They were pulled by large, docile-looking beasts of burden… I’m not sure what they were called in the game. They seemed well-equipped for travel in the harsh environment.”
He paused, trying to recall specific interactions. “I saw individuals engaged in various tasks. Some were tending to the animals, others seemed to be involved in crafting or repairing items near the wagons. There was a communal cooking fire, and I observed some of them sharing a meal.” He remembered the sense of community he had briefly witnessed. “There was one individual, an older Fennician with striking silver streaks in their fur, who seemed to be in a position of authority. They were giving instructions to others. I overheard snippets of conversation, though I couldn’t make out the specifics. They seemed to be discussing travel routes and potential trading opportunities.”
Dave listened intently, nodding occasionally. “A Fennician elder leading this troupe… interesting, given your avatar’s race.” He made another note on his tablet. “You mentioned vardo wagons instead of tents. Can you elaborate on their appearance? Any distinguishing features?”
Bennett focused, trying to recall the details. “They were… boxy, for lack of a better term, but with curved roofs. They had small windows, often covered with colorful fabric. Some had small porches that could be folded out. They looked quite sturdy, much more substantial than tents would be in that environment. They seemed designed for longer journeys and perhaps offered more security.” He recalled seeing intricate beadwork and small, decorative charms adorning some of the wagons.
Dave’s interest seemed to deepen. “And you mentioned this group being a branch of the Red Fox Caravan?”
Bennett clarified, drawing on his in-game observation. “That’s what I gathered. I overheard one of the individuals mentioning their connection to the larger Red Fox Caravan. It sounded like the Vermillion Troupe might be a specialized unit, perhaps focused on trade or exploration in a specific region.”
Dave leaned forward again, his initial scientific curiosity about the sleep incident now seemingly intertwined with the potential significance of the Vermillion Troupe. “Mr. Davies, from this point forward, your primary objective during your immersion time, beyond allowing these… sleep episodes to occur naturally for data collection, will be to learn more about the Vermillion Troupe and their connection to the Red Fox Caravan. Understand their purpose, their activities, their interactions within the desert region. Given your Fennician avatar, you may find it easier to establish contact and gain their trust.”
He paused, his gaze now assessing. “Now, Mr. Davies, beyond this immediate directive, what were your initial plans for ProlixalParagon? What direction did you envision your gameplay taking?”
Bennett, still processing the unexpected schedule change and the new focus on the Vermillion Troupe, considered his initial, albeit brief, experiences. “Well, sir, initially, I was still very much in the learning phase. As a Tinkerer, I was interested in exploring the crafting system, seeing what materials were available and what I could create. I was also curious about the lore, the history of the different factions and the role of the Fennicians within that history.” He remembered the book the priest had lent him. “The priest in Oakhaven mentioned the tensions between Soohan and Draggor, and the armorer hinted at the Altaicians. I was hoping to eventually explore those regions and understand the dynamics between them.”
He then considered his recent unexpected journey. “Now, being in the desert near the Red Fox Caravan… it feels like a natural progression to try and interact with them, to learn more about their culture and their role in this part of the world. The elder of the Vermillion Troupe, Lyra, seemed… approachable. She spoke of family being the strongest thread for the Fennicians. Perhaps that’s a starting point.” He considered his character background, Fennician, Scholars Apprentice [Hidden] and the inherited trait Unrooted Identity. Maybe connecting with a Fennician community could offer some insight into his hidden background and inherited traits.
He hesitated for a moment, then added, “Given the CEO’s directive, I suppose my immediate focus will be on gathering information about the Vermillion Troupe. But personally, I was also interested in seeing how the Tinkerer class progressed, what kind of unique abilities and crafting specializations might become available. And, of course,” he admitted with a slight smile, “I was curious to see what lay beyond the starting areas, what kind of challenges and adventures awaited.” The mention of the wayshrine of Oelia and the new lands it promised flickered in his mind.
Dave listened intently, his expression thoughtful as he absorbed Bennett's initial aspirations for ProlixalParagon. He then reiterated his primary directive. "Now, Mr. Davies, while your initial inclinations are noted, your immediate focus during your dedicated immersion time, beyond allowing these… sleep episodes to occur naturally for data collection, will be on observing and learning more about the Vermillion Troupe and their connection to the Red Fox Caravan. Understand their purpose, their activities, their interactions within the desert region. Your Fennician avatar should be advantageous in this endeavor."
He paused, his gaze direct. "Beyond this crucial objective, I also require you to pay close attention to several key aspects of the game as you explore. Tell me, Mr. Davies, considering these new priorities, what will your character's focus be from this point forward?"
Bennett, still processing the implications of his dedicated immersion day and the specific assignment regarding the Vermillion Troupe and his in-game sleep, considered how his initial interests aligned with these new directives. “Yes, sir, I understand completely. My immediate priority will be to gather information about the Vermillion Troupe and to allow for those… sleep instances to occur so we can collect more data on them. Given my Fennician avatar, I will do my best to integrate and learn about their culture and connection to the Red Fox Caravan.”
He then elaborated on his broader intentions within the game, weaving in the new requests. “Beyond that immediate focus, sir, I still intend to explore several areas that initially drew my interest and that may provide further valuable data. As a Tinkerer, crafting remains a significant area I wish to delve into. I am eager to understand the crafting system, the types of materials available in this desert region and potentially elsewhere, and the unique items and gadgets a Tinkerer can create. This might also offer insights into the Vermillion Troupe’s resourcefulness and crafting practices.”
Bennett continued, his enthusiasm for the game evident. “The lore of Ludere Online is also something I am deeply curious about. The priest in Oakhaven provided a glimpse into the history of Soohan and Draggor, and my encounter with the Vermillion Troupe suggests a rich history and culture among the nomadic factions as well. I want to learn more about the different races, including the Fennicians, and the historical and mythological context of this world. Understanding the lore may also shed light on the significance of the Vermillion Troupe and their traditions.”
He then addressed the faction dynamics. “My current location with the Red Fox Caravan provides a unique opportunity to study faction dynamics firsthand. I plan to observe their interactions, their potential alliances or rivalries with other groups, and their role within the larger world. Understanding these relationships could be crucial, especially if the Vermillion Troupe has specific goals or encounters related to other factions.”
Regarding his chosen class, Bennett affirmed his interest in progression. “As a Tinkerer, I am keen to explore the class progression system. I want to understand the skills and abilities that become available as I gain experience and how a Tinkerer might specialize. Observing the Vermillion Troupe, I will also be attentive to any skills or knowledge they might possess that could inform my own understanding of the Tinkerer class in this environment.”
Bennett’s voice gained a note of personal curiosity as he spoke about a more recent discovery. “Furthermore, sir, I am particularly interested in the mechanics of character background and inherited traits. The appearance of ‘Scholars Apprentice’ as my hidden background and the list of inherited traits like ‘Lunar Reflexes’ and ‘Unrooted Identity’ has sparked a strong desire to understand how these elements influence my character’s abilities, interactions, and potential within the game world. Given Lyra’s mention of family being important to Fennicians, I will be particularly observant of any cultural or societal cues within the Vermillion Troupe that might relate to lineage or inherited skills. My unique fur pattern also remains a point of curiosity in relation to these mechanics.”
He concluded by reiterating his commitment to Dave’s requests. “So, sir, while my immediate focus is on the Vermillion Troupe and these… sleep episodes, I will also be actively exploring crafting possibilities, delving into the game’s lore, observing faction dynamics, understanding my class progression, and investigating the mechanics of my character background and inherited traits. All of these areas, I believe, can contribute valuable data and insights, both for understanding these unusual sleep instances and for gaining a broader understanding of Ludere Online.” He hoped this comprehensive approach would satisfy Dave's multifaceted request.
Dave nodded
Mr. Davies,” Dave began, his voice thoughtful, “the neural activity we monitor within the D.I.V.E. units is quite distinct from the patterns associated with natural sleep. During immersion, the brain operates in a state of heightened sensory input and processing, even when the player is stationary within the virtual environment. What you are describing… a genuine cessation of conscious activity consistent with sleep… it’s an anomaly.”
He leaned back in his chair, setting the tablet down on his desk. “Did you dream, Mr. Davies? Do you recall any specific content or sensations during this… sleep?”
Bennett, still feeling a tremor of anxiety despite Dave’s unexpected reaction, tried to recall the experience. “Sir, it’s… hazy. I remember feeling a profound sense of relaxation, a drifting sensation, much like falling asleep normally. As for dreams… there might have been something, fragments of images, but nothing concrete I can recall with any clarity. It felt… natural, but also somehow deeper, more restorative than a normal nap.”
Dave nodded slowly, absorbing Bennett’s description. “Interesting. Very interesting indeed. This has… significant implications for the technology and the potential long-term effects of deep immersion.” He steepled his fingers again, his gaze now distant, as if contemplating the broader ramifications of Bennett’s experience.
After a prolonged moment of contemplation, Dave’s attention returned to Bennett. “Mr. Davies, while this… development is certainly unexpected and warrants further investigation, it also underscores the need for you to adhere strictly to our agreement. Your primary responsibility remains your janitorial duties. This… research you are conducting for me in Ludere Online is a secondary, albeit potentially valuable, undertaking.”
He stood up, a subtle shift in his demeanor indicating the end of their meeting. “For now, I want you to continue your observations as instructed. However, if you experience this ‘sleep’ state again, I want you to note the time, the circumstances, and any sensory details you can recall immediately upon waking. We will need to analyze this further.”
Dave walked towards the door. “You are dismissed for now, Mr. Davies. Please ensure you clock out properly.” His tone was firm but lacked the anger Bennett had initially anticipated.
Relief, tinged with lingering apprehension and a burgeoning sense of the extraordinary, washed over Bennett. “Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Smith.” He stood up, his legs feeling slightly unsteady. The weight of his lateness still pressed upon him, but the unexpected turn of their conversation had created a strange sense of detachment from the immediate consequences.
He turned and walked towards the door, a mix of confusion and fascination swirling within him. As he stepped out of Dave’s office, the quiet hum of the administrative wing seemed to hold a different resonance. He made his way towards the time clock, his brown wristband a tangible symbol of his complex and evolving relationship with Alluring Realms.
He swiped his card, the small green light blinking to register the end of his considerably extended shift. A pang of guilt hit him as he saw the recorded time. He had been hours past his scheduled departure. Yet, Dave's reaction had been more curious than accusatory, a fact that Bennett couldn't quite reconcile.
With a sigh, he turned towards the employee exit, the fluorescent lights of the corridor casting long shadows before him. He pushed open the heavy glass doors and stepped out into the cool morning air. The sky was now a pale, washed-out blue, the first hints of true daylight breaking through the horizon.
As he walked towards his car in the mostly empty parking lot, Bennett expected to feel the crushing weight of exhaustion. The mental and emotional rollercoaster of the past few hours, coupled with his prolonged work shift, should have left him drained. Yet, as he unlocked his car and settled into the driver’s seat, a surprising realization dawned upon him. He didn’t feel tired. Not in the slightest.
He paused, turning off the ignition he had just started. He considered the events in Dave’s office, Dave’s intense curiosity about his in-game sleep. Could it be? Had his unconscious state within Ludere Online somehow fulfilled his body’s need for rest? The eight in-game hours he had slept in the vardo… the 4:1 time dilation… that would equate to two full hours of real-world time. But he felt as though he had slept a full eight hours, the kind of deep, restorative sleep he hadn't experienced in days.
A wave of astonishment washed over him. It was illogical, impossible even, according to everything he understood about biology and the human need for rest. Yet, the undeniable feeling of being fully refreshed contradicted his expectations. The mental fog that usually clung to him after a long night shift was absent. His thoughts were clear, his body felt energized, and the usual aches and stiffness were nowhere to be found.
He leaned back in his seat, a sense of wonder mixing with a growing unease. What had happened to him in that D.I.V.E. pod? Was this a side effect of the deep immersion technology interacting with his unique neural activity? And what were the implications of this for his clandestine explorations in Ludere Online?
He started the car again, a multitude of questions swirling in his mind as he pulled out of the parking lot and began his drive home. The world outside seemed sharper, more vibrant than he had anticipated. He should be struggling to keep his eyes open, counting down the minutes until he could collapse into bed. Instead, he felt… awake. Truly awake, as if he had just enjoyed a long and uninterrupted night’s sleep. The weariness he had felt before entering the D.I.V.E. pod this time had vanished, replaced by an unsettling but undeniable sense of rejuvenation. The implications of this were profound, blurring the lines even further between his real life and the virtual world he was now tasked with exploring.
The key in Bennett’s lock turned with a soft click, and he pushed the apartment door open, stepping inside with a forced casualness he hoped looked more convincing than it felt. The morning light streaming through the living room window illuminated dust motes dancing in the air, a stark contrast to the vibrant desert sunrise he had witnessed just moments ago in Ludere Online.
“Ben! You’re home!” Jenn’s voice, laced with surprise and a hint of concern, called out from the kitchen. He could hear the clatter of dishes stopping abruptly. Jesse appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, her brow furrowed slightly as she took in his presence.
“Hey,” Bennett said, trying to sound nonchalant as he shrugged off his worn work jacket and hung it on the coat rack. He ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair, hoping he didn’t look as utterly panicked and sleep-deprived as he felt. “Morning, you two.” He deliberately avoided looking at the clock on the microwave.
“Morning?” Jenn repeated, emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Ben, it’s almost ten! Your shift ended hours ago. Everything alright?” Her deep brown eyes, like sunshine through cognac, scanned his face with concern. Jesse stood beside her, her gaze equally questioning.
Bennett offered what he hoped was a reassuring, if slightly weary, smile. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s… fine. Just a bit of a situation came up at work.” He walked further into the living room, trying to project an air of someone who had simply worked overtime, rather than someone who had inexplicably overslept in a virtual reality pod after an unauthorized access and a clandestine meeting with the CEO.
“A situation?” Jesse prompted, her tone still holding a note of apprehension. “What happened?”
Bennett took a deep breath, launching into his hastily concocted explanation. “Well, you know how meticulous I am,” he began, attempting a light chuckle. “Apparently, there was… a rather significant mess in one of the administrative offices. Something with… a faulty coffee machine, I think? Anyway, it was quite the cleanup job.” He embellished slightly, recalling the spilled coffee in the developer’s office. “And because I was still there, and, well, you know me, always willing to put in the extra effort…” He trailed off, hoping they would fill in the blanks with their own assumptions about his work ethic.
Jenn and Jesse exchanged a quick glance. “So, they kept you late to clean it up?” Jenn asked, her concern softening slightly, replaced by a familiar understanding of Bennett’s dedication.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Bennett confirmed, nodding emphatically. “And get this – because I was the one who stayed and handled it so efficiently, Mr. Davies… the CEO, offered me the chance to work another few hours, extra pay and all.” He tried to inject a note of enthusiasm into his voice, hoping it would mask his internal turmoil. “Couldn’t exactly say no to that, could I? Especially with everything…” He let the unspoken weight of their financial responsibilities and Brecken’s health needs hang in the air.
Jenn’s face brightened. “Oh, Ben, that’s wonderful! Extra pay will really help.” She stepped forward and gave him a quick hug. Jesse echoed her sentiment with a relieved smile. “That’s great news, honey. Your hard work is really paying off.”
A wave of guilt washed over Bennett at their genuine joy, knowing it was based on a lie. The real reason for his lateness – his unauthorized and prolonged immersion in Ludere Online – felt like a heavy weight in his chest.
“See?” Bennett said, trying to sound upbeat, even though his eyelids felt heavy and his mind was still half-lost in the deserts of Ludere Online. “Told you I was too good at what I put my mind to. They can’t do without me!” He puffed out his chest slightly, attempting a playful bravado.
However, Jenn’s initial excitement quickly gave way to a more familiar worry. “But Ben, you’ve been working all night! And now more hours? You’ll run yourself ragged. You need to rest.” Jesse nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the same concern. “Yeah, honey, don’t overdo it. Your health is important too.”
Bennett waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense,” he said, trying to sound energetic despite the bone-deep weariness he was trying to suppress. “I feel fine. Honestly. That extra sleep I got before my shift must have really done the trick.” He avoided their gazes, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach at the near-truth of his statement – the “extra sleep” being his hours spent as ProlixalParagon in Ludere Online. “Besides,” he continued, forcing a smile, “think of the extra cash. It’ll be worth a little extra effort. And its more like when you go to sit standby Jenn, Ill pretty much have a whole day of chilling out unless theres a real big mess they need me to take care of.” He knew they worried about him, his tendency to push himself, but he couldn’t afford to let them suspect anything else. The precarious opportunity Dave had given him, contingent on his janitorial duties not suffering, hung in the balance. He had to maintain the facade of the diligent, hardworking employee, even if the reality was far more complicated and potentially disastrous.
