He looked down. The supports weren't steel or wood; they looked like obsidian bones, stretching infinitely into a white fog.
Elias put on his VR headset. The simulation didn’t start with a logo or a menu. He was simply there , strapped into a rusted, single-car coaster at the peak of a lift hill that pierced a sky the color of a fresh bruise. There was no wind, no sound, only the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of the anti-rollback dogs.
He couldn't help it. He glanced ahead. The track wasn't just metal—it was composed of flickering images, like a film strip. He saw his own room. He saw himself sitting in his chair, headset on, mouth agape. He saw the "Epic.Roller.Coasters.rar" file on his desktop.
The ride leveled out into a long, dark tunnel. A single line of text appeared in the center of his vision, glowing a soft, sickly green: