With a groan, Old Man Tom forced his eyes open to the faint glow of the room's wall.

Chunks of nightmare clung to his mind like sticky cobwebs. He rubbed his face, trying to dispel the horrible visions that had plagued him all night.

"Good morning, Mr. Damascus," the AI room chimed in a soothing voice. "I hope you slept well."

"It could've been better." Tom slowly sat up in his chair. His muscles were tight, but—even at ninety-three—it was nothing compared to the pain he felt during the simulation.

"I am sorry to hear that, sir. However, I am glad you are awake. The last highlight of the week is playing soon. I have saved a few highlight reels I think you will find it interesting."

Words appeared on the screen.

Week One Top Ten Epic Countdown by Caretaker Epic

Tom watched adventurers take down hideous monsters, Wizards cast awe-inspiring spells, and valiant Fighters charge into battle. Each moment stirred something within him. Others might enjoy the adrenaline-fueled thrill of taking down monsters, but Tom was desperate to get back to his family. He needed to protect them.

In another highlight, a brown-skinned Rogue darted through the shadows, deftly disarming traps and picking locks, while her companions fought off hordes of tiny Sphinxes. Every movement was precise, graceful, and deadly. Tom held his breath, and silently cheered for the heroes as they pressed onward.

But as he watched, often from a top-down camera angle, it was highlighted that each person had their own strengths; their own unique abilities that contributed to the success of the group. He was seeing the battle as Tess saw it; different parts working together as an effective, cohesive whole.

The penultimate clip played. A Latine boy was surrounded on all sides by some sort of Goblin Fishpeople. He was the only one left standing in his party.

The creatures closed in.

The boy roared, and raised his hands to the Sun. He called forth a dazzling pillar of light that enveloped his fallen comrades.

The humans staggered to their feet—healed, and very tanned—and charged into the goblins.

Top Epic video of the week . . .

Tom's spine clicked as he jolted upright in his chair. His eyes almost popped out of his head.

A blast of electric guitar riffs filled the air.

Within a familiar Dungeon cavern, a familiar person belted out the opening lines of Take On Me.

Tom's mouth hung open, along with millions of others, as his family engaged in a ferocious battle against the monstrous Headless Boss. He cheered for his family despite knowing the ending.

Thousands of 'thumbs-up' and 'heart' emojis scrolled up the side of the video.

"Bo's cookin!" Tom shouted at the screen, as Bo's fingers flew across the blue ethereal strings of his guitar.

A smaller screen opened in the corner of the main display. It switched between multiple Real World people in their underground apartments, all laughing, cheering, singing, or dancing along with Bo

The video transitioned seamlessly into an old-fashioned pencil-drawing animation style that captured the essence of the original music video.

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Tom watched himself—as a black-and-white sketch—facing down the monstrous creature with his Shield held high.

Bo's voice rang out powerfully and perfectly in-tune; laying down an epic soundtrack for the battle.

Tom marveled at his friend's talent—at the whole team's talent—and at how they had become a force to be reckoned with.

As the video reached its climax, Bo's voice soared to new heights, driving the group to their stunning victory.

Tom let out another cheer as the Boss fell, truly enjoying the moment for the first time.

Dozens of people on the mini-screen cheered as well. Hundreds of virtual messages scrolled by, expressing well wishes and congratulations.

The screen faded to black, with a single message in white.

Good luck in week two. Do something epic. Caretaker Epic.

The simulation restart was getting close.

As amazing as the Take On Me video had been, Chloe's collapse had been sketched in the background.

Tom's decision was made.

Weeks before, during one of the simulation tutorials, he had learned that creating a personalized simulation video was no easy task. Therefore, each person was only allowed to request one per week; all other simulation media came from the highlight reels.

"Room, I'd like to order my video now please."

"Of course, Sir. Which video would you like to request?"

"I would like to watch Chloe choose her class."

"Understood. Please wait while I retrieve the video for you."

Tom rose from his seat and headed to the compact kitchenette, where he set about making a cup of tea. He could have requested the AI to fetch it for him, but he felt as though he'd been buried alive in his underground dwelling. The feeling was more acute after sleeping in the open air for days in the virtual world. He wanted to move around.

Isn't there some sort of foldable treadmill under the bed?

He'd have to look into that.

He returned to his chair and set the steaming mug down on an adjacent table. He bundled blankets around him, but he couldn't shake off the cold. Staying warm was a constant struggle for his old body.

Tom lifted the mug to his mouth.

"Your video is ready, Mr. Damascus," the AI said.

"Great. Please play it." Tom took a sip.

The screen flickered to life and cast a warm glow across the room.

Tom set the mug down, and leaned forward to watch.

An image of Chloe filled the main display. Her confusion and fear were palpable as she awoke on the cold, hard floor of the Soul Chamber. She sat up. Her eyes roamed around the room.

"Wh-where am I?"

"It is okay, child," a soothing voice called from the podium.

There was Caretaker Balance, in her beautiful female form, regarding Chloe with a gentle smile. "There is no need to be afraid."

Chloe hesitated. Her breath came in short gasps, and her eyes darted around the cavern again.

"Where am I?" she blurted.

"Come here, it is all right." Caretaker Balance extended a hand toward Chloe. "Please, let me help you. There is no danger here."

As if drawn by an invisible force, Chloe rose to her feet, and took a few tentative steps toward Balance.

Caretaker Balance's luminescence radiated through the dimly lit chamber. Her serene expression seemed to reassure Chloe as she slowly descended the podium's stairs. She took Chloe's hand gently in hers.

"Listen carefully, Chloe," she said, her voice calm. "The world as you knew it has changed. A magical apocalypse will soon ravage the land. Reality itself will be reshaped."

Chloe's eyes widened. "What? What do you—"

The Caretaker held up her hand. "Patience. There is a lot to hear, and you will have many questions. In the reality that you know—the one that you came from—you have passed away."

Chloe pulled her hand away and stared—aghast—at Balance.

Balance smiled. "Fear not, for you have been granted a second chance. Here, in this New World, you will create a class and forge a new path for yourself. Soon, you will be reunited with your family, and together you will fight for survival. The memory of this choosing will be wiped and forever forgotten. It is very important to be honest with yourself and pick what truly would fit you best. Make your choices wisely."

Caretaker Balance paused.

"I'm dead?" Chloe croaked. "What about my family, where are they?" Chloe stepped away from Balance and looked around. She was visibly trembling, and her movements were growing more frantic.

Caretaker Balance spoke softly. "Your body succumbed to illness in your previous reality. Your family will join you, in the New World, after you select your class. I know this must be scary, but dying in your previous life? It does not really matter here."

Chloe stiffened, and glared at Balance. She stood, ramrod-still, for so long that the highlight reel actually fast-forwarded before Chloe spoke again.

"I died, and I never really gave myself a chance to do . . . anything," she murmured. Her gaze wandered to one of the shimmering pools. "All those times I worried about how I looked, and about what people thought of me, and about being rejected. I hid from everyone. I missed out on my own life."

Tom wanted so badly to reach out and hug his daughter. Tears gathered in his eyes.

"A very mature observation, Chloe." Balance replied in her soothing voice.

Chloe lightly scoffed. She clenched her fists. "I wish I would have realized sooner." She turned to Balance. "Is there no going back? When I leave here, will I know that I died?"

"No. There is no going back to the Old World, and this memory will be gone when you enter the New World. I do not want to rush you, child. I know these are big questions. However, I feel we should proceed to your class selection."

"Class? Like, school? Or like a game?" Chloe brushed an errant strand of straw-colored hair from her face.

"Like a fantasy game." Balance smiled, and gracefully extended her arm in a sweeping gesture.

A large tombstone-like boulder beside one of the pools began to emit a soft glow. Blue luminescent words formed on its stone surface.

As Chloe approached the stone, ghostly versions of herself appeared around her.

One shade of Chloe was a brave Fighter, defiantly raising her Shield to block an attack from a menacing Ogre. Another appeared as a skilled tracker in the woods; there was a bow slung across her back, and she was accompanied by a large hunting cat. Another version bent over a person-shaped shadow, and healing light poured from her hands.

Each of them represented a different version of Chloe, as embodied by the different classes she might choose.

"In this New World, you will have the opportunity to choose a class that best suits your strengths and interests," Balance said. "Think of your class as a foundation upon which to build your skills and abilities. It will serve as a guide on your journey, and will allow you to grow and adapt to the challenges you'll face."

"Can I choose any class?" Chloe asked. Her gaze lingered on the image of herself as a powerful Wizard, wielding elemental magic.

"Of course. But I would advise you to consider your natural talents and inclinations when making your decision."

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