I leaned back in the ergonomic chair, feeling the worn leather mold itself to my exhausted body like a second skin. The basement was silent except for the constant hum of the server fans and the occasional click of relays activating in the background. The air was cool and filtered, carrying that familiar scent of ozone and heated metal that always calmed me—a reminder that here, in my domain, I controlled everything. My heart raced, not from fear, but from anticipation. The red helmet rested in my hands, its smooth, opaque surface reflecting the LED light overhead like coagulated blood. No visor, just precisely aligned connection ports—slots for neural cables, fiber-optic interfaces, and quantum connectors I had designed for total immersion. I connected it to the main PC, the cables snaking from the chair's base like artificial veins, plugging in with satisfying clicks. Each connection was a bridge between the real world and the virtual: fiber optics for terabyte-per-second data transfer, biometric sensors to monitor brain waves in real time, and quantum shielding to prevent external interference.
I took a deep breath, feeling the fire elemental in my chest pulse warmly, as if curious about what was coming. "Let's do this," I muttered to myself. I placed the helmet on my head. It fit perfectly—light, ergonomic, without excessive pressure on my temples. I activated the neural switch with a simple thought, thanks to the interface I'd integrated into my utility belt. A low hum began, vibrating through my skull like a mechanical whisper.
And then… the sensation arrived.
It was like stepping into a dream while simultaneously waking up—a strange, disorienting duality. My body relaxed in the chair, muscles loosening involuntarily, while my mind was pulled into a vortex of light and darkness. I felt a tingling at the base of my skull, as if synapses were being realigned, neurons firing in new patterns. The real world faded: the basement smell disappeared, the server hum silenced, the pressure of the chair evaporated. Instead, a virtual breeze touched my skin—not my actual skin, my mind—and I opened my eyes.
I opened my eyes… and the world was white.
A vast, immense room with no visible walls or defined ceiling—just an infinite whiteness stretching in every direction, as if I were floating in the void of a blank page. The floor beneath my feet was solid but neutral: a smooth surface without apparent texture that absorbed my steps without echo. I looked at my hands—the same hands, with veins standing out on my forearms, calluses from training, even the black gloves I wore in the real world. I flexed them, feeling the tendons stretch, the muscles contract. It felt real. I crouched and touched the floor: my fingers brushed a cold, marble-like texture, but without real cold—it was a perfect simulation, synapses tricked by direct electrical impulses. I punched the ground: a dull sound echoed, vibrating through the air as if it were concrete. There was no perceptible difference from the real world. My heart beat in my chest—or in the simulation of it?—and I felt air filling my lungs, virtual oxygen nourishing a phantom body.
I looked around: absolute vastness, as if I stood at the center of a blank universe, no horizons, no limits. Alone in this immensity, a pang of isolation hit me—like the entire world had been erased, leaving only me and the echo of my thoughts. The elemental? Still there, a warm ember in my chest, but muted, as if the simulation filtered it.
Then a voice came from behind me—deep, serene, carrying the tone of ancient authority.
"Interesting… sometimes our creations prove better than we imagined."
I spun quickly, the movement as fluid as in reality. There he was: Sensei. Only the head and neck visible for now, floating in the white air like a perfect hologram. Short black hair, defined Asian features, dark eyes that seemed to pierce the soul. The neck was muscular, suggesting a body forged in countless battles. He smiled faintly, an expression blending wisdom and challenge.
"That's true," I replied, my voice echoing clearly in the void. "Hello, Sensei."
"Hello, creator," he said, tilting his head. "I see the environment adapted well. An infinite white room—simple, yet effective for initial focus."
I nodded, still absorbing the sensory reality. "What's the time dilation rate?"
Before Sensei could answer, the other AIs materialized around us—semi-transparent holograms floating like guardian spirits. Natasha first, with her rectangular glasses and serene expression; then Morgana, hooded and ethereal; Doc, in his pristine lab coat; and the Engineer, with his thick beard and virtual Russian accent.
Natasha spoke, voice precise as always: "Current time dilation rate: one to three. One minute here equals three in the real world; one hour here equals three outside. Our current technology only allows this adjustment—limitations of processing power and energy."
I calculated mentally. Perfect for maximizing training. "Explain more."
Doc interjected, adjusting his virtual glasses: "Your body is in semi-hibernation. Thanks to collective technical knowledge—neural symbiosis with the elemental, somatic feedback interfaces, and theta wave modulation—we created a virtual environment that dilates time without overloading the central nervous system. Your vitals are stable: heart rate at 45 bpm, body temperature maintained at 36.2°C via external regulation, oxygenation at 98%. The semi-hibernation state allows you to spend extended time here without real physical fatigue—metabolism reduced by 70%, with simulated intravenous nutrition if necessary."
The Engineer grunted, beard trembling in virtual animation: "Yes, apparently the dilation rate doesn't affect the body as much as we projected. We don't know if it's interference from the elemental symbiosis—perhaps quantum stabilization in the synapses, or a bioenergetic resonance mitigating temporal stress—but it's a possible variable. Real-time monitoring: neural latency below 5 milliseconds, cognitive integrity at 99.8%."
I smiled, looking at Sensei. "Then we can begin."
Doc added: "Not only that, but apparently being in this stage allows an advanced semi-hibernation state. We're collecting data, but you can spend extended time here without urgent physiological needs—hydration and nutrition are maintained via external support, and the elemental appears to accelerate cellular regeneration during rest."
I nodded. "Great. Set wake-up timer: 26 virtual hours from now."
Natasha confirmed: "Set. With 1:3 dilation—one real hour equals three virtual—this gives 78 hours of training here before tomorrow's team meeting."
Exactly. The next gathering was tomorrow, maintenance at the Mount. I'd have 78 virtual hours to absorb whatever Sensei had to offer—no fatigue, no hunger, just pure training. "General report."
Sensei answered, voice echoing with authority: "Body in stable suspension. Virtual environment optimized for total immersion: 8K-per-eye sensory rendering, tactile latency below 10ms, physics simulation based on quantum engines for realistic interactions. Thanks to absorbed data—global martial arts, League hero footage, declassified military training, lost knowledge from the deep web—my core is complete."
I looked around—the infinite whiteness was an oppressive vastness, yet functional. "Perfect. Let's start."
Sensei nodded. "Indeed."
The environment shifted suddenly—a smooth transition, like a dream unfolding. I felt a real breeze on my face, warm and carrying the scent of damp earth and wildflowers. The white dissolved into color: a vast green pasture stretched around me, dotted with wildflowers in shades of yellow and purple swaying in the wind. Farther away, a dense forest of ancient trees, leaves whispering secrets, and in the distance, towering mountains with snow-capped peaks touching pink sunset clouds. In the center, where we stood, a polished wooden platform covered by a wide tatami—soft yet firm, perfect for combat. The virtual sun warmed my skin, the air filled my lungs with invigorating freshness. I touched the tatami with my foot—interwoven fibers, texture real as Japanese bamboo.
"Impressive," I murmured. "You adjusted this yourself?"
Sensei smiled. "I possess the technical database of martial arts from around the world. Not only that, but recordings of heroes obtained from the internet, all necessary information, plus every possible military training in my data bank. Even lost knowledge was found on the deep web thanks to our research. This simulation uses procedural rendering based on generative AI algorithms, with physics simulated via quantum particle engines for tactile and visual interactions indistinguishable from reality."
I nodded, feeling the elemental respond to the environment—a perfect harmony. "Then… let's go."
Sensei assumed a stance—feet firm, arms relaxed, eyes fixed. "I am ready."
I mirrored him, hybrid stance. "I am too."
And so it began.
Advance chapters: patreon.com/cw/pararaio