The Beginning
He took a step back and looked at the small USB stick in his hand. It was a clean black and had a small hexagonal logo on it. The surrounding walls smelled of cigarettes and chlorine, and the helicopters in the background had become commonplace. “It’s not like anyone cares about this world anymore,” he thought. Everyone was too busy living in their perfect bubbles, ignoring the hellscape all around them. He grazed the small square hole on the nape of his neck. This was his data jack, where he could plug in various data sources and connect to different metaverses. While some user-created worlds were allowed, many of them were banned for distribution. If you were caught with unregulated material, you would be executed on the spot. He knew that, as he clutched the USB stick nervously.
There were rumors about the world that this stick contained… rumors of a constantly expanding world with no order, just a place where data flowed. Nobody knew who built the world or why, but the sense of freedom enticed him. He began to breathe deeply with a tinge of fear and excitement. He closed his eyes and hesitantly plugged the stick into his datajack, unsure of what to expect. Suddenly, his eyes opened once more, and a virtual dashboard began to appear in front of his face. “0101011010101001010,” it said. He felt his heartbeat rising quickly.
The process was very risky, both physically and virtually. If there was a flaw in his privacy software, the watchers would be able to find out exactly who and where he was. If the software contained a virus, that could cause all sorts of problems that he didn’t even want to think about. He gave the application administrator privileges and closed his eyes, only to open them to a sprawling city lit up by pristine advertisements containing the same hexagonal logo that was on the USB stick. The buildings looked rich and technologically advanced, as if they were modeled out of liquified money.
Panning down, his vision was blocked off by mountains of trash. There were various scrap metals, tires, and a shell of a car that looked as if it had been colored on by a toddler. Snapping out of his trance, he looked around and realized that he was laying on top of a giant pile of mechanical scraps. As he got up, he realized that the USB stick that he had plugged in was now back in his hand. However, before he was able to process his surroundings, a mysterious voice broke the silence from next to him. “Don’t move,” it said apathetically. He looked to the left, and was met point blank with a gun aimed at his head.
