I awaken from the darkness to an oversaturated cartoon world, everything blocky and poorly shaded, like N64 graphics.
There’s no temperature or movement in the air, not even the faintest aroma. The only stimulus is the simplistic terrain and soothing ocean noises on a loop, like a sound machine.
“Welcome, Matthew Cooper, to the Absolute.”
I turn towards the voice. It’s a floating torso with a bland expression.
“Wait. I’m dead? No. I was just—”
They give me a sympathetic look but say nothing.
“I did not consent to uploading my consciousness!”
The NPC shrugs. “Someone must have tagged you.”
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alt="Stone Jaws by Evan Baughfman"
class="motion-reduce"
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height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Mannequin People by Michael J. Stiehl"
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>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Gator by Randall Andrews"
class="motion-reduce"
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>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Rude Awakening by Richard Lau"
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height="630"
>