Pandora's Trials

Escape

Elijah's hand disappeared from mine, along with the rest of him. I stood alone

in the empty house, staring out the window at the snowstorm. In another blink, the reflection of Anthony's body in the window showed only an empty couch. My mind was buzzing with thoughts, much like the flurry of snow outside.

"I figured it out," I loudly proclaimed to no one and everyone at the same time, "I played your game, and I won. Now what?"

Silence filled the world. My ears buzzed and I could hear each beat of my heart in my head. What were they doing? Trying to figure out what to do next? Ignoring me?

"This is. . .interesting."

I spun around to find the source of the voice. On the couch sat a man with pale, white skin and even whiter hair. He was old, maybe in his fifties or sixties, but his gray eyes shone with a youthful brightness. He wore a charcoal gray tailored suit with a red tie that disappeared behind his buttoned jacket. He held a pair of rimmed glasses in one hand and twirled a yellow pencil in the other.

The man spoke again, "You've never figured it out before. Why now?"

"Figured what out before?" I asked, moving closer to him.

"This," he gestured to the space around us, "this flawless world constructed of ones and zeros. Well, almost flawless."

I sat in one of the tattered armchairs across from him. Only it wasn't tattered; it was a velvet chair that looked like it had been made yesterday. And we weren't in a dilapidated house in the middle of a burning town, we were in a large room with hardwood floors and dark purple walls that were lined with old-fashioned lights. The man no longer sat on the couch that once held the body of my friend. He sat in a tall chair behind a large oak desk that held nothing but a computer, a stack of files, and a glass paperweight.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"It's my world," he answered plainly, "I created it, and I can alter it."

He snapped his fingers, and I felt my wet, dirty clothes disappear from my body and transform into something different. A mirror appeared to my left, and the man shooed me out of my seat with the wave of a hand.

My clothes had been replaced with an emerald green ball gown that was soft and warm. My cuts and burns disappeared from my skin, and my hair was clean and pulled into a tight bun on top of my head. My boots were replaced with black heels, and sparking earrings dangled from my ears.

"Do you like it? Your love of nature inspired me. Along with being a top quantum physicist, I have a passion for design," the man said.

I didn't lie, "It's beautiful, but what's the point?"

"What's the point of anything?" He asked with a sly smile, "We're just specks of dust riding on a larger speck of dust in an infinite, expanding universe. Nothing really matters, so why not have some fun? Dress up like kings and queens every once in a while?"

I sat down in the chair again while the man chuckled to himself.

"I never introduced myself, how rude. My name is Oliver MacDougall, and it's a pleasure to meet you face-to-face." He held out his hand.

I shook his hand. I didn't know his intentions, so I figured being polite would be the best way to investigate.

"Now, I know you have a lot of questions. Lucky for you, I have a lot of answers." He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs.

"Well," I thought for a moment, "What am I? Why am I here?"

"Right to the point, I like it," he said, "I suppose it would be easier to explain the why before the what. This world is a simulation, as you've already figured out. We're inside a quantum computer that mimics reality almost perfectly. We just made a couple of changes to the narrative. The Virus is real; AV2 wiped out the vast majority of humanity within only a few years. The creative liberty we took, however, has to do with the cult, the 'Chosen Warriors.'"