Phoenix Phire

The loud slam of the judge's gavel echoed in the courtroom. "Mr. Phire, you have been found guilty on seven counts of first-degree murder, fifty-three counts of first-degree arson, and twelve counts of tax evasion. For these crimes, I sentence you to life in prison without the possibility of parole."

The yellow-eyed man stared at the judge without expression. His four-month trial had included countless testimonies from experts and witnesses. During this time, he hadn't uttered a single word.

His dark hair was shaved close to his head, and his coldly handsome face, untouched by daylight for six months, looked as if it had been carved from ice. Heavy shackles bound his wrists, ankles, and waist, yet they didn't seem to impede his movement as he followed the bailiff out of the courtroom.

He sat quietly in the room where they placed him. His wrist shackles were attached to the heavy-duty table by a steel ring. A copy of today's New York Times lay on the table. Dated July 14, 2125, it marked the first time in weeks that he wasn't on the front page. Instead, the headline was about a virtual reality company named Gladis, which had purchased the employment contracts of tens of thousands of non-violent convicts from the U.S. government.

A tall Black woman in an all-black uniform opened the heavy metal door. He recognized her immediately. She was the guard who brought him his meals and occasionally told him jokes, even though he never responded.

"Hey, Nix." Glory had been a guard for more than ten years and loved giving inmates nicknames. The media had dubbed him Phoenix Phire, and she had adapted it to suit her style.

The man she called Nix glanced at her, as he always did. Today, though, there was a faint trace of sadness in her eyes. Having been around her for months, he could guess what was bothering her. "Don't listen to him, Glory. That idiot doesn't deserve a fine woman like you."

Glory's face registered surprise, her full lips curving into a smile. "So, you do speak."

"I do."

"Why didn't you talk to your lawyer or speak during the trial?"

Nix shrugged. "The lawyer was a paid patsy. I was never getting off."

The guard smiled, raising an eyebrow. "So you didn't kill those seven people?"

"No. I've killed plenty of people, but not those ones."

Glory grabbed a chair and moved it to the other side of the table. She opened her E-pad and scrolled through its screens. "Want to know where you're going?"

Nix shook his head. "Not really. They'll have to silence me sooner or later anyway."

She didn't deny it. Instead, she nodded in agreement. "I'm quitting my job here soon, but I can still pull some strings to get you a nice meal."

"My last supper?" Nix shrugged. "Fried chicken, I suppose. Maybe a cold beer to go with it."

Glory's laughter echoed in the room as she opened the door to leave. "A cold one? I'll see what I can do, Nix."

Glory's thick, strong frame grew blurry as Nix blinked. She was already picking up his tray when the room started to spin. His head suddenly felt heavy. Nix tried to rise but fell back into the chair. "Drugged?" His last thoughts before losing consciousness were of her. "Did Glory work for them? No matter. The beer was great."

Vic pushed the stretcher next to the pod and read the information. "Inmate 943, ten years, Lifestyle Player in Berentia."

"Check." Silas slid Inmate 943 into the life pod and activated the stasis field. "See you in ten years. Next."

Vic moved to the next pod and stopped. "Why is this guy naked?"

Silas tried not to laugh. One of the prisoners wasn't wearing the standard orange jumpsuit. He grabbed a spare from the cart and walked toward the inmate. "Give me a hand, Vic."

A few minutes later, Vic read off the details. "Inmate 777, one hundred years, Lifestyle Player in Colonial."

"One hundred years? Must've been a stockbroker." Silas slid him into the pod and activated it. "That the last one?"

Vic nodded and headed toward the elevator. Once this level was locked down, no one would be able to enter. Prisoner retrieval would happen on the first level, and bringing someone up early was strictly against corporate policy.

[System Processing... Please stand by.]

Nix found himself in a white room, his body completely transparent. "What the hell?"

[System Message: Employee 777, you have been hired to work for the Gladis Corporation as a Lifestyle Player in the Colonial Virtual Online Game. Your term of employment is one hundred years.]

"One hundred years? Fuck off. Where the hell am I?"

[Character Generation Screen. Please choose your appearance and gender.]

Nix watched thousands of options for hair and skin color scroll across the screen. "Are you deaf, jackass? Open this f*cking thing!"

[No character data chosen. Using player's physical characteristics as default.]

[Please choose the Life Skill that best suits you. The following options are currently available: Blacksmith, Carpenter, Cook, Tailor, Alchemist.]

"Tailor." Nix tried to focus on his last memories before passing out. Did Glory switch him with the non-violent felons Gladis had purchased?

[Please name your character.]

"Nix."

[Character Generation Complete.]

Nix

Strength: 10Endurance: 10Intelligence: 25Dexterity: 25Perception: 25Cold Resistance: 66

Skills: Hunter/Leather Making/Tailor [100/100/001]

[Are you satisfied with this character?]

"Yes."

[System Message: Welcome to the Gladis Hub in Colonial. You are bound here. Your workstation is 777. Please follow the yellow ball.]

A glowing yellow ball appeared in front of Nix, pulsing faintly. "Follow me to your workstation. I will answer any questions you have."

Nix fingered the silver bracelet around his wrist. "What is this thing?"

"That is your all-purpose heads-up display. Tap it with your fingers to activate it."

Nix tapped it. A transparent menu appeared in front of his eyes. All the categories were grayed out except "Local Map." "Where am I?"

"You are on the Northern Polar Ice Cap of the Tunis Continent. The surrounding terrain is uninhabitable."

"What am I supposed to do here?"

"You will report to your workstation daily. You have thirty days to raise your Tailor skill to an intermediate level. After that, you'll receive assignments and must meet weekly quotas."

"What if I don't?"

"Then you will not be fed. Do you wish to attempt escape at this time?"

"Um… what?"

"The nearest city is 200 miles south. You may attempt to leave now or at any time."

Nix gave the ball of light the finger. "Oh, I get it. Fine. Take me to the exit."

Three hours later, Nix was back on the spawning platform, wearing the same generic orange jumpsuit.

The yellow ball of light appeared again. "Nix. Do you wish to attempt another escape?"

"No." He shivered at the memory. Outside, the temperature was likely fifty below zero. Within minutes, his body had shut down, leaving him immobile. He probably hadn't made it more than a mile.

"Follow me to your workstation, please."

Nix's workstation consisted of needles in various shapes and sizes, along with dozens of different materials. A beginner's manual lay on his desk.

"Do your best, Nix. Gladis Lifestyle players enjoy certain advantages over their Colonial counterparts. You can raise your stats easily by performing tasks that utilize those statistics."

Nix picked up the manual and looked at its cover. "How can I find out about the Colonial game itself?"

"No information is available about the Colonial game. However, I can answer any questions regarding tailoring."

Nix glanced around the empty space where his cubicle was located. "Where are the other employees?"

"After you reach an intermediate level in tailoring, your workspace will be moved to the Lifestyle Village. In the village, you'll be able to make friends and practice hobbies."

Three weeks later

"Employee 777, this is the fourth desk lamp you've had to replace."

Nix nodded. "Right. I'm guessing this cubicle is bugged. Will I get a new one when I move to the village?"

"Yes. You've been working hard, and you only have nine days left to reach the intermediate level. At your current pace, you'll achieve it in five days."

Nix watched the light move away. His small, square cubicle was where he spent all his time. Meals appeared at his workstation three times a day, and a small bed slid out from the wall for eight hours of sleep each night. "Display stats."

Nix

Strength: 18

Endurance: 19

Intelligence: 25

Dexterity: 25

Perception: 25

Skills: Hunter/Leather Making/Tailor [100/100/42]

"Looks like the push-ups and exercise are working." Nix pulled the freshly replaced lamp off the desk and began stripping it down. Each lamp contained six feet of plastic-coated wire and a small J-Cad battery in the detachable remote. He fed the wire into a small gap he had sewn into the pants. The outer layer was a light, waterproof material, while the inner lining was a Lycra composite that prevented sweat from gathering on his skin. He glanced at the pullover shirt with the built-in hood he'd already finished. The wires, looped into the clothing every two inches, would act as heating coils once powered. The batteries, taped together, would sit in the breast pocket of his overcoat.

That evening, Nix stood outside doing jumping jacks under the night sky. It was time-consuming, but he stayed outside until the bone-chilling cold became unbearable. Enduring the pain steadily improved his cold resistance stat. "Three more days to finish the pants, then I'll make my attempt."

Three nights later

Nix stood at the door, doubts creeping into his mind. The wind kept the snow from accumulating on the icy tundra, so he hadn't bothered making snowshoes. What if that changed after a few hours of travel? Was it a mistake to start at night? He'd thought he'd want his strength for nighttime, but what about the second night?

"Fuck it. I'm running out of time." He slid on his face mask, pants, and pullover shirt, leaving the wrapped batteries exposed. Then he donned his knee-length coat, securing the batteries in a pocket with enough slack to avoid impeding movement.

Starting with the batteries off, he jogged lightly for fifteen minutes, then walked for forty-five. Somehow, Nix managed three hours before turning on the battery pack. Relief washed over him as the heating coils began to warm his body. He resumed his fifteen-minute jogs.

Once warm, he switched the batteries off. He managed another three hours before needing heat again. This time, he took his first drink of water.

Throughout the night, Nix continued his steady pace, cycling the batteries every three hours. Daybreak revealed his first dead battery. "Fuck... Did I keep it on too long?"

Twelve hours of southward travel had taken its toll. He couldn't gauge the distance but estimated it to be between 35 and 55 miles—probably somewhere in the middle. His fifteen-minute jogs shortened to ten.

As night fell, his body demanded warmth. He activated the second battery while sipping water from the straw inside his coat. The water, tinged red from his cracked lips, offered little comfort. Without gloves, he bunched the extra-long sleeves over his hands. It wasn't perfect, but it worked.

By the second dawn, Nix could no longer run. He trudged south with sheer determination, falling frequently. Each time, he dreamed of staying down and waking up in his warm cubicle.

At some point during the night, he was certain he'd died. He stumbled forward, forgetting to reheat his clothing. In a moment of clarity, he activated the battery pack just before collapsing.

The cold woke him. He'd dreamed of lying in the sun. Slowly, he climbed to his feet and checked the third battery—dead. For the first time in over a day, he broke into a slow jog. "How long was I out? An hour? More?"

The next dawn saw his water supply depleted. Despite rationing, there was only so much he could carry. He knew dehydration was imminent. Death was closing in faster than he could move.

By nightfall, he was walking again. His last battery was running low, and he could no longer run. Each time he fell, he swore he wouldn't rise again, but somehow, he always did.

As he stumbled onward, his sister's face appeared in his mind. Her beautiful voice soothed his pain. "It's okay, Nick. You can keep going. Aren't you the strongest?"

"No," he mumbled through broken lips. "I am weak."

"No, brother. You've always been strong."

[You have entered the city limits of Cyphix. Do you wish to bind here?]

"Yes."

[You are now bound to Cyphix City.]

Nix collapsed onto the ground, his final battery long dead. Exhausted beyond measure, he couldn't move. "And so it ends here."