Project Anima : A Virtual Reality / Reincarnated Tale

Chapter 0.3

Tristan was cleaning his room, when he ended up with his old Esports Championship trophy.

It was a golden cup, beset with an emeraldine gem. On the base, the boldfaced words, ESCS is written and embossed. The trophy was caked in dust, and some clung to his hand as he held it. Twisting the cup to the backside, dust bunnies danced in the air. Tristan waved at them, scratching his nose from the whiff. He read the inscription engraved on the grooved metal.

Esports Championship Series

Season 6 Finals

3th-6th December 2029 - Beijing, China

2029. Nearly 8 years ago, when he was just 19. Once a world champion. It seemed like it had been ages.

A somber, wistful feeling swept over him. Tristan stared at it for a moment. Memories of the championship began to replay in his head.

His team preparation. The big day, that large stadium. The lineups, and the massive cheering crowds. The intense, nerve-racking deathmatches. And finally, that epic winning moment, followed by such uproar and a hail of confetti, culminating at the awarding. At that moment in time, the cup felt like the Holy Grail.

Now it was just some dusty, forgotten decoration. A keepsake of his former glory; a reminder of the distant past.

As if woken from a daydream, he stirred back to duty. Tristan took the handheld vacuum, and tapped the sensor. A soft humming filled the air, and the dust bunnies began to leave the trophy, gravitated towards the vacuum cleaner. The golden sheen of the cup and the sparkle of the crusted gem started to return.

That's better.

When his room was spick-and-span, he placed the vacuum down, tapping the charge setting. The wireless hub device on his desk blinked.

Tristan walked over to his treadmill for a few morning rounds. He increased the rate, jogging faster, until beads of sweat trickled down his face.

After a while, he dialled it down to a stop. Tristan exhaled deeply, gripping the heart monitor handle, his damp hair covering his face. His shirt was drenched in hot perspiration.

Proceeding to the bathroom, he switched the shower on. A sprinkle of cool water drizzled over him. He sighed in relief. Cold water, just as he liked it.

Cold. Just like your heart, a certain person would say. Would've said.

Another icy pulse of shower, and his mind finally became crystal clear. He stepped out of the shower.

Putting on fresh clothes, he sat down and swivelled to his PC. A thin film of curved, transparent glass, a circlet, and a streaming rig lay before him. Tristan wore the ArcBand, adjusting the slick, curling sensor behind his head. With his thoughts, he willed the computer to turn on.

The crystal glass became opaque with high-def display.

Though he was not entirely fond of the neural tech, at least it was unidirectional, and could only read the brain, not write or influence it. There was little to no risk at all with the device, except privacy. The ArcVisor, however, was a different matter.

Still, Tristan sometimes wondered if the ArcBand could read one's thoughts without permission. To be able to read someone's deepest, darkest, secrets...how much of a compromise is that?

It's not like he had any choice. Keyboards and mouses became defaced since a decade ago. All of the new computers now relied on the mind remote.  His option was either use the computer or not, and there was no way he could live without it.