The first thing Aiden noticed was the cold.
Not simulated cold.
Not the kind that faded after a second.
This cold bit into his lungs when he breathed and stung his palms when he pushed himself up from the sand.
That was when he knew.
He opened his eyes.
The sky above him was wrong—too wide, too deep, layered with colors he didn't have names for. The horizon curved unnaturally, broken by distant landmasses that floated like abandoned continents stacked upon one another.
Ocean surrounded everything.
Real ocean.
Aiden dragged his fingers through the sand. It clung to his skin, gritty and heavy. When he clenched his fist, it stayed there.
People were screaming.
Some were laughing.
A few were already crying.
"This isn't funny!"
"Log out—just log out!"
"My chest hurts—why does it hurt like this?"
Aiden stood slowly, letting the noise crash around him. His heart was beating harder than it should have. Not from fear.
From confirmation.
This wasn't loading.
A man nearby slashed his hands through the air, swiping frantically. "The menu's gone! The menu's gone!"
Others followed, fingers twitching uselessly.
"No signal!"
"There has to be an exit!"
Aiden looked across the beach.
No interfaces.
No translucent screens.
No countdowns.
Just people.
Just bodies.
A family stood a short distance away—the same one he remembered from before the launch. The father knelt in the sand, forcing his voice steady as he checked his wife's hands, her face, her breathing.
"It's okay," he said too quickly. "It's just a deeper sync. They said it would feel real."
The mother didn't respond. She stared at the water, eyes unfocused, fingers trembling.
Their son laughed once—sharp and brittle. "You guys are overreacting. They wouldn't—"
He stopped.
He had bitten his tongue when he spoke.
Blood ran down his chin.
He stared at it.
Real blood.
The laughter didn't come again.
Something shifted in the crowd—not panic yet, but something worse. Confusion tightening into doubt. Doubt pressing toward understanding.
A man nearby dropped to his knees, clutching his head. "I can feel my heartbeat," he whispered. "I shouldn't be able to feel it like this."
Someone screamed when they tried to breathe too fast and couldn't.
The wind rolled in from the ocean, carrying a deep, distant sound.
Not loud.
Not sudden.
Heavy.
The sand vibrated beneath their feet.
People turned toward the water as one.
Something vast moved beneath the surface, slow and deliberate. The sea bulged upward, as if pushed from below.
Aiden's stomach tightened.
Not fear.
Recognition.
A voice rolled across the shore—calm, ancient, and utterly unconcerned.
"WELCOME… BACK."
Some people collapsed where they stood.
Others backed away until they tripped over one another, eyes wide, mouths open but silent.
The father pulled his family close, shielding them with his body. "We're leaving," he said, voice breaking. "We're leaving right now."
He turned—
And stopped.
There was nowhere to go.
No doors.
No paths.
No city lights waiting beyond the shore.
Just ocean.
Just sky.
Just this world.
The truth settled slowly, like weight pressing down on the chest.
This wasn't a place they entered.
It was a place they had arrived at.
Aiden closed his eyes for a brief moment.
When he opened them, a man stood beside him.
Dark clothes. Calm posture. No panic in his eyes. He was watching the horizon like he already understood it.
"You can stop looking for it," the man said quietly.
"For what?" Aiden asked.
"The way back."
Aiden studied him. "You sound sure."
The man didn't look away. "I am."
The thing beneath the water shifted again, drawing closer. The ground trembled under its movement.
People cried openly now.
Aiden exhaled.
"So," he said, more to himself than anyone else, "this is it."
The man nodded once.
"This is the part," he said, "where people realize staying alive matters more than winning."
The ocean surged.
And behind them, the world they came from was already gone.
End of Chapter 1