Kyle sat slouched at his desk, eyes half-closed, head nodding slightly as sleep threatened to take him once again. The screen in front of him displayed an open spreadsheet, filled with half-done entries and highlighted mistakes. The office was quiet now, most of his co-workers had already left for lunch, but Kyle hadn't moved from his desk. His mind drifted. Maybe he could just close his eyes for five minutes—just five—
A sudden beeping noise jolted him upright.
His eyes shot open, scanning the screen. A new tab had opened on its own, an ad flashing brightly in bold colors:
Make Money While You Sleep!
Beta Testers Needed for Hunter Games - A Futuristic Virtual Reality Experience
Kyle blinked.
"What the hell…?" he muttered.
He leaned in, eyes wide. A virtual reality game? That promised real money? While he slept? He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining it.
It sounded… ridiculous. Too good to be true. But it also sounded exactly like what he needed.
His heart raced a little as he read further. The ad was slick, professional. The kind of thing a real company would put out. A few images flicked across the screen—an island, some kind of artifact, a glowing suit. Then a small form appeared below it all:
Apply Now. Limited Slots Available.
Without hesitating, Kyle began typing. Name. Age. Email. Passport number. Blood type. Height. Weight. Emergency contact. He filled in everything. His fingers trembled slightly as he hit "Submit."
The page loaded for a moment.
Then it displayed a message in plain text:
Your application has been accepted.
Report to: Hunter Headquarters
Time: 8:00 PM
Kyle leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen. Did this just happen? Had he just signed up for something real—or something stupid?
He quickly opened a new tab and typed: Hunter Games VR.
Dozens of search results popped up. Articles, forum threads, press releases. His eyes scanned the first few links. Hunter Corp, a rising virtual reality company known for pushing boundaries. Neural-link tech, dreamstate simulation, psychological realism. Legit.
It was real. All of it.
He let out a shaky laugh.
"Kyle! Get your fucking ass here!!!"
The voice thundered across the office, making him jump. He clenched his jaw, slamming his hand lightly against the desk in frustration. He didn't even respond to his boss this time. Just stared back at the screen.
Tonight. 8:00 PM.
---
The room was cold. The lights above flickered slightly. Kyle lay flat on a padded surface, his arms strapped gently but firmly to his sides. Around him, others were going through the same preparation.
Masked figures moved quietly across the room, adjusting straps, checking vitals, preparing syringes. Their outfits were black and seamless, almost clinical. Not one word was spoken.
Kyle tried to sit up but the straps held him down.
This was strange. Very strange.
He turned his head slightly and whispered to the man beside him, "Why do we need beds for a virtual game?"
No answer came. The man beside him looked just as lost.
Before Kyle could say another word, a masked figure leaned over him and injected something into his arm. The liquid was cold—unnaturally cold—and spread fast.
His limbs began to feel heavy. The ceiling lights started to blur.
Darkness swallowed him.
---
Sunlight.
Painful, blinding sunlight.
Kyle groaned and raised an arm to shield his eyes. The heat of the sun warmed his skin as he slowly sat up. Grass crunched beneath him. Wind brushed his face.
He squinted.
A clear blue sky. Birds chirping. Trees rustling. It looked… real. Too real.
He sat up fully and glanced around.
People. Dozens of them. Some still lying down, some slowly waking up. All dressed in the same tight-fitting grey and black suit. It felt light on his skin, but it clung to him like it was tailored.
He rose to his feet, legs shaky at first.
"Where… are we?" he whispered, his voice sounding so small in the open air.
The place felt vast. Endless. He turned around and spotted a slope nearby. Compelled by some instinct, he walked toward it, brushing branches out of his way until he reached the edge of a cliff.
His breath caught in his throat.
Below him stretched an enormous island. The same one he saw on the TV screens back at the headquarters. Forests stretched across the land like a thick green blanket. Rivers cut through valleys. Mountains stood tall in the distance. Birds with colors he had never seen before circled above trees.
It was beautiful. And terrifying.
"We're really here," he whispered. "This is the game…"
Then something else caught his attention.
His arm. Specifically, his left wrist.
Glowing softly beneath the skin was a timer. Faint blue numbers, etched into him like part of his body.
23:54:56
23:54:55
23:54:54
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