Chapter 1 – Ordinary life
Chapter 1 – Ordinary life
Benjamin blended into the background like wallpaper, unremarkable in every sense. Sixteen, with grades that hovered just above failing and looks no one would write home about. His parents were kind, his friends loyal—everything anyone could ask for, really. But there was an itch under his skin, a faint hum of wrongness he couldn't put into words. It wasn’t like he was unhappy, exactly. Life moved along predictably, but there were moments where it felt like he was watching it all unfold from a distance, as if he were more of an observer than a participant.
Some days, it was a dull ache that lingered in his chest, a sense that something was missing or misplaced, but he couldn't figure out what. He wasn’t sad in a way people would notice; he could still laugh at the right moments, give the right responses, act the part of the version of himself everyone expected. His friends never questioned his smiles, his jokes. They didn't see the undercurrent of emptiness in his eyes, didn’t catch the way his mind drifted, detached from the conversations around him.
It wasn’t loneliness—he was surrounded by people who cared for him. But somehow, even in the middle of their noise and laughter, he felt as though he were standing outside, pressing his face to the glass, watching a life that didn’t quite fit him. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, or why it seemed like the harder he tried to be ‘himself,’ the more foreign that self became. It was like holding onto sand that slipped through his fingers no matter how tightly he clenched.
Benjamin trudged along the familiar path to school, his hoodie pulled up against the crisp morning air. His headphones rested snugly over his tangled red hair, the music providing a comforting buffer between him and the world. The rhythm of his steps matched the steady beat in his ears, each footfall as routine as the day ahead. Today felt like every other day—predictable, unremarkable, a loop he’d walked a thousand times.
As he approached the school gates, the familiar shapes of his friends came into view, clustered in their usual spot. Lillian was the first to notice him, her warm smile reaching her eyes as she waved. She had always been the gentle anchor of their group, the one who made sure everyone was okay, even when they didn’t realize they needed it. Next to her, Sarah bounced on her toes, a burst of energy in a sea of routine. Her enthusiasm was contagious, even if sometimes overwhelming, but Benjamin appreciated how she could lift the mood with just a grin.
David leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, already deep in conversation with James about something Benjamin was sure involved a lot more thought than he could muster this early in the morning. David was sharp, the kind of guy who rarely missed a detail, always quick to offer insight. Then there was James, effortlessly cool, always at the center of things without even trying. He could talk to anyone and make it look easy, a quality that Benjamin admired but never felt he could emulate.
They’d known each other for as long as Benjamin could remember, their lives woven together by years of shared experiences. Yet, as he joined them, slipping into the rhythm of their conversation, he couldn’t shake the subtle disconnection lingering just beneath the surface.
The conversation quickly shifted to the topic that had been dominating their thoughts for weeks now—Astralyth Online. It was all anyone at school seemed to talk about, and Benjamin’s group was no exception. Lillian leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So, did anyone else read the latest reviews?” she asked. "I still can't wrap my head around how this whole thing works."
James, ever the tech enthusiast, shrugged with a smirk. “Does anyone really know? All I care about is getting my hands on one of those Full-Dive Pods.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as if he’d already mastered the game. “Astralyth Corporation is being super secretive about it, but from what I’ve heard, once you're inside the pod, it's like you're literally in the game. Full immersion.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Like, actually inside? That’s insane! How do they do that? You just... sleep in the pod and then you’re there?” She mimicked the motion of falling asleep, barely able to contain her excitement.
David, who had been quietly listening, nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s something to do with neural connections, but even the scientists are keeping quiet about the exact tech behind it. They say it’s like dreaming, but you’re fully aware, and everything feels real. You control your in-game body as if it were your actual body.”
Benjamin listened, letting the words wash over him, though his mind drifted. He had heard it all before, and while the excitement was palpable in his friends, part of him felt oddly detached from it all. Sure, Astralyth Online sounded amazing, but the idea of losing himself in another world didn’t spark the same thrill in him as it used to. He couldn’t tell if that was because of the game itself or something deeper that he couldn’t quite explain. And besides all that, the pods cost way more than he could afford anyway.
The day unfolded like every other—classes passed in a blur, punctuated by brief moments of chatter with his friends. They sat in their usual spot for lunch, the same table they’d claimed since the beginning of high school, laughing about things that felt distant to Benjamin. He smiled, nodded in all the right places, but inside, a nagging sense of detachment gnawed at him. As the final bell rang, he found relief in the thought of heading home, though the prospect of another evening felt just as hollow.
When he walked through the front door, the familiar smell of dinner greeted him. His dad stood by the stove, a casual greeting exchanged as Benjamin kicked off his shoes. “Dinner’s almost ready,” his father called out, his voice warm but routine. His mom joined them at the table shortly after, and the three of them engaged in the usual small talk—how school was, the latest news from his parents' work. It was comfortable, predictable, but Benjamin felt like he was going through the motions, as if someone else were steering his responses.
After dinner, he retreated to his room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet sigh. He sat on his bed, staring at the walls, feeling an inexplicable weight settle over him. His friends seemed fine, his family was great, and there was nothing outright wrong in his life. Yet, the emptiness persisted, a vague sense of wrongness he couldn’t shake.
What was this feeling? He was supposed to be enjoying life, wasn’t he? Puberty had its struggles, sure, but this? This felt deeper, like something was off inside him. He lay back, staring at the ceiling, wondering why it felt like no matter what he did, he couldn’t quite connect with his own life.
Lying on his bed, Benjamin heard the familiar chime of his phone. He groaned, the sound pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. With a reluctant glance, he saw the group chat light up—his friends were still excitedly discussing Astralyth Online. They traded jokes and theories, their messages buzzing with enthusiasm. He didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he placed the phone face down beside him and let out a heavy sigh.
The weight pressing on his chest felt unbearable tonight. That same, sinking sadness he couldn’t explain or shake. It clung to him, wrapped itself around his thoughts, and made everything feel wrong. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he quickly blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t help, he knew that much. Besides, who would understand?
He had everything, didn’t he? Great parents, friends who genuinely cared about him. So why did it feel like none of them could see him? Truly see him. Even worse, why couldn’t he see himself? His mind chased answers he couldn’t grasp, like trying to hold onto mist. His parents wouldn’t get it, no matter how much they loved him. His friends, absorbed in their own worlds, would probably just brush it off as teenage angst.
But it didn’t feel like that to Benjamin. It felt deeper, heavier, like something fundamental was missing. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to even begin to understand it. Lying there, in the quiet of his room, he felt small, lost in a world that had no place for what he couldn’t even name.
At some point, exhaustion must have overtaken him, because when Benjamin opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in his room. He was standing in the middle of a vast, sterile white building. Everything around him was stark and clinical, the kind of place that reminded him of a hospital—cold, empty, and unsettling. The walls stretched high above him, smooth and featureless, making the space feel even more imposing. His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked, but the sound felt swallowed by the emptiness around him.
There was no direction in his movement, just an instinctual wandering, as if he were being pulled forward by something unseen. Every door he passed was shut, almost blending into the walls, giving the entire place a maze-like quality. The more he moved through the corridors, the more disoriented he felt. The silence weighed on him, thick and suffocating, but he pressed on, unsure of what he was searching for.
Then he saw it—a door left slightly ajar. The sight was jarring in the otherwise uniform landscape, a break in the stillness. His hand hesitated for a moment before reaching out, fingers brushing against the cool surface. Slowly, he pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit room beyond. The air inside felt different, heavier somehow, as if something important was waiting for him.
Without thinking, he stepped through the threshold, curiosity tugging him deeper into the space. He didn’t know what he expected to find, but the pull was undeniable, an invisible thread leading him toward something he couldn’t quite name yet.
As Benjamin stepped into the room, the lights flickered on automatically, the sudden brightness causing him to blink. The room was stark, almost as empty as the halls outside, save for one striking feature—a massive glass tube standing in the center. His eyes were immediately drawn to it, unable to look away. Suspended inside the tube was a woman, her body floating in a thick, yellowish liquid. Tubes snaked from various parts of her, attaching her to the walls of the cylinder like some strange, living machinery.
A wave of unease crashed over him, stronger than anything he’d felt before. There was something terribly wrong about this scene, something unsettling in the stillness of her form. She looked trapped, held in place by forces he couldn’t understand, and yet... beautiful. He couldn’t deny it, though he felt guilty for even thinking it. The contours of her face were delicate, framed by long, drifting hair, and her features, though peaceful, seemed haunted.
He stepped closer, his breath shallow, as if speaking or even moving too suddenly might break the fragile silence. His eyes traced the tubes that connected to her body, and he couldn’t shake the certainty that she didn’t belong here, suspended in this unnatural prison. The thought gnawed at him. Who was she? Why was she here? A soft ache bloomed in his chest as he stared at her, a strange sense of familiarity stirring, though he didn’t understand why. All he knew was that, whatever this was, it wasn’t right. She was not supposed to be here.
Benjamin found himself drawn closer to the glass, almost as if some invisible force was urging him forward. His breath caught in his throat as he hesitated, fingers trembling as he reached out. The surface of the glass was cold, sending a shiver up his arm the moment his hand made contact. He stared at the woman inside, his mind racing with questions he couldn’t form into words.
And then her eyes opened.
Benjamin gasped, jerking back so quickly he nearly lost his balance. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound deafening in his ears. For a moment, their eyes locked—hers a deep, shimmering amethyst that seemed to pierce straight through him. The shock of it coursed through his veins, leaving him frozen in place. What the hell? He wanted to shout, wanted to understand what had just happened, but no words came out.
He looked up again, half-expecting to see her staring back at him, but her face was as serene and lifeless as before. The stillness had returned, the tubes holding her in place as if nothing had changed. Had he imagined it? Those eyes, so vivid and intense—they couldn’t have been a figment of his imagination, could they?
His heart raced as his surroundings began to blur. Before he could process what was happening, his vision dimmed, and when he opened his eyes again, he was staring at the familiar ceiling of his room. Sweat drenched his skin, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The dream—or whatever it was—still lingered, vivid and unsettling. He lay there, heart still thudding in his chest, trying to shake off the feeling that the woman from the dream had been more real than he wanted to admit.
Benjamin lay still, his heart slowly returning to a steady rhythm. The strange dream clung to him, lingering in the back of his mind like an unwelcome shadow. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and took a deep breath, convincing himself it had been nothing more than a bizarre product of his overactive imagination.
Needing a distraction, he reached for his phone and unlocked it, scrolling through the usual notifications. But something unexpected caught his eye—a new email. That wasn’t unusual, but the subject line stopped him cold: "Congratulations! You’ve Won 5 Full-Dive Pods!"
He blinked, sitting up straighter in disbelief. What? He opened the email, skimming over the words quickly. The message seemed official, congratulating him on winning a contest that he didn’t even remember entering. Five Full-Dive Pods? The very same cutting-edge technology his friends had been talking about for weeks? It felt surreal, almost like part of the dream had followed him into waking life.
Benjamin rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still half-asleep. Did I even sign up for something like this? He couldn’t remember entering any promotions, especially not one that would give away something so expensive. His mind raced with possibilities—was this some kind of scam? A prank? But the email seemed legitimate, with official logos and everything. He scrolled through the details again, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing clicked.
The dream, the email, everything felt too strange to be a coincidence. But as he stared at the glowing screen, uncertainty gnawing at him, one thing was clear: whatever this was, it wasn’t just another ordinary day.