It was amazing the damn thing slipped past for release in the first place.
You zone out as you read the long list of warnings imprinted on the back of the decades-old, illegal cartridge. You know already that this game could kill you, lobotomize you, throw you into a permanent coma. But a chance to play the greatest video game in history and the promise of glory, not to mention the considerable stack of U-Creds riding on your success, is just too great to pass up. Besides, the chair alone cost a small fortune on the grey market, and it's not going to do any good if it's just sitting here. After the few months it's been here, in storage, our curiosity got the better of you. You flip over the cartridge, to the title written in bold, white letters, and under it, Disk Two.
The first memory crystal cartridge pops out of the arm of the chair. You replace it carefully in its case and slide the last disk in. After a short time, the monitor on the headrest pings twice. The word "Ready" appears on the fabric. You lay back against the chair, noting that it conforms perfectly to your torso. A cylindrical cover rolls over you and encloses your body from the neck down. You glance upward toward the helmet as it descends onto your head. No going back. A green light flashes at the corner of your vision, accompanied by a soft beeping. You become even more aware of the tips of the probes digging into the back of your head. Your eyes close in preparation. In an instant, you feel something enter your skull, the sickening sound of cartilage tearing, then it is gone, replaced by only a blinding light.
You hear an intentional-digitized feminine voice echos around you "A New Use has joined the game." It lists a few numbers, pausing between each one.
A large WELCOME appears in front of you. Its black silhouette seems to draw in the harsh light, but you can still only see white around it. After a few seconds, a few other, smaller, black words appear below it.
USER NAME _________
________________________________________________________________________________________________
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+
"Welcome. Yes. Welcome to your inevitable death: Reverie, The Dreamscape. Well, not entirely inevitable. The game can be won, after all, it wouldn't be much of a game otherwise. Unfortunately, unless you either die or beat the game, you're locked in the network. Like everyone else that has ever plugged in. Most of those people are dead... or at least braindead. It was advertised (before it was outlawed just a day after release) to be one of the greatest VR games to ever hit the market! And it was. Probably. Everyone that has ever seen it is, well, you know. After it was abruptly recalled, it still made its way through the markets and private collectors, copies and consoles becoming more and more rare with time. There are only a little more than a hundred unused copies known in operational condition, and an equal amount currently known in use. The corporation that manufactured Reverie has since disappeared into record books as the most-sued company in history, followed by General Electric.
The only information I'm allowed to give you is that the game automatically detects factors like race, height, genetic imprint, all that stuff and implants it into the game, but that's only your starting portfolio. The neurological probes intercept signals sent to the body as well as your actual conscious and subconscious thoughts. From these thoughts, it can build the game around you, base antagonists against your mind. You literally are your own worst enemy. Or at least you could be, Reverie is very unpredictable. For the sake of balance, the game can also supply you with items you can use to stay alive. But it might not.
But I can't tell you much more about the game.
Spoilers, Spoilers!
... I really hope you've trained for this."
-Sprite
Application.
Name:
User Name:
Gender:
Species:
Skills:
Personality:
Backstory:
Misc.:
Theme music and image are optional.
[/spoiler]