Ethereal 0.02

Death, as it was turning out to be, was quite the peaceful thing. At least, that's what Oliver's mind could comprehend at the moment. He felt as if he was submerged, sunken deep beneath the sea with water pressing onto his everything threatening to crush him to death. And yet, as his eyes weakly parted and widened he was greeted not with the tenebrous void of nothingness, but his own room.

He blinked a few times, disbelieving at the sight then set down one hand on his bed, feeling the plush foam squish beneath his grasp and forced himself to a seated position. Light blared in from the side addling his eyes forcing him to squint and wince away. Blinking a few times he cleared away the floaters and scanned his surroundings.

Every inch he looked at hurt, it rose a headache than a migraine. Crossing one hand over his face he felt images, recollections rapidly welling up and rose to the surface of the water that was his confused mind. He saw Solenne, angry, sad, happy, envious, jealous, they all blended together. Then he saw Bonnie, she was crying but she was also happy and sad and weeping in the bathroom with bloody wrists.

The headache only grew harsher and he clasped his hands against his temples half tempted to scream out in pain but kept himself silent and powered through the pain.

It was confusing, there was too much information being provided in one. It was like he was stood staring at one hundred televisions without knowing which ones to look at.

Then came the pain, like one hundred kicks to his gut he felt daggers pierce his skin, shatter his ribs, sever his organs, dissecting him like he was a frog on the chopping block of a high school.

Oliver shut his eyes, if there was too much information, too much pain, then he just needed to focus on one thing.

'Ignore them.' He thought in silence and forced himself to feel every one of those repeated stabs. And with every one came memories of his last day, the worst day of Bonnie's life up to that point.

"What a shitty birthday." Just like that, with four little words, Bonnie's image of that day appeared before him. He lifted his head and there she was, coated in his blood, face running with tears as she leaned over his sputtering barely alive corpse.

It was a horrible sight. He turned just slightly to his right and there was Solenne. She was like him, coated in blood and barely grasping to life.

"I should blame you." Solenne's head slumped to the side, her cold, hazy blue eyes peered towards him. "Yet I don't. I'm such a gullible idiot." Chuckling to himself the migraine and the images gradually calmed and focused on one thing. Now.

"Just what the hell was that." He may not despise her but confusion to her actions… he doubted he'd ever been free of that.

Glancing to his bedside table then his wardrobe and the desk where his computer was set, a tightness in his chest rose and came to bear. When he looked out his window he saw only the white emptiness of the world he could only call limbo. The land between life and death.

"Guess this is my crossroads them." Forcing himself to his feet, his legs felt like weights were strapped to them and sent him stumbling only to just barely catch himself by falling back onto his bottom. That's when he noticed much to his pleasure that he was dressed up in clothing. Nothing complex, black pyjama pants and a grey long sleeve shirt that was just one size too big. His favourite.

"Least heaven's giving me some dignity." Oliver turned over in his bed, leaned down and massaged 'blood' into his calves and reattempted to stand. Doing so successfully this time. With a few testing bounces, he rose one foot and set it down a little further. Placing his full weight on it he took a single step forth and sighed contently. "Not sure what I was expecting." He mused, "floating or something. I mean, I'm dead now and just a soul."

Scratching his head he turned his gaze once more over his room and fell to his nightstand. It was small, painted white and had a simple drawer with a bronze handle on the front. A lump rose in his throat as he drew near and gingerly pried it open only to be greeted with emptiness. "Haaa… guessed as much." Shutting it he wandered to his wardrobe finding it just as barren of anything.

Scratching a non-existent itch, Oliver backed away from the wardrobe spinning once then twice in his room and soon found himself before the door to his home. Pulling it open he took three steps in and turned his gaze left and right. It looked exactly like his home in life. The bathroom he shared with Bonnie just next to his room while Bonnie's actual room was further down the right hallway.

Nervously, he made his way to Bonnie's room and stroked the little lopsided placard with 'Bonnie' scribbled on it. Not even death would fix the things lopsidedness. Rapping his knuckles against the hardwood he inwardly hoped for a reaction but his expectations were quickly proven when nothing returned.

"Guess no one's home." Feeling dismayed, Oliver reached for the handle and attempted to twist it with all his force but like it had been welded tight, it budged not even a millimetre. "She'd be pissed if I actually did get in anyways." Snorting he released the handle and made his way back towards the bathroom. Simply exploring his home as it was likely to be the last time he'd ever see it again.

"Nothing changed…? Huh, never mind, that's different." While the majority of the room seemed the same, the toilet, the bath, shower, and the sink were all in the same places the only obvious difference had come in the form of the mirror. It appeared like it had been painted with an unusual grey paint that reflected the light and only the light. No images, no gloss, no nothing.

Reaching one hand up he felt the coldness of the glassy mirror and even saw it warp when he put some strength in behind his press, but lo, his mug did not appear on its surface.

As he was about to put the mirror to the back of his mind a sudden noise echoed through the halls of his home.

*Knock-Knock-Knock*

Three equidistant knocks of knuckles against wood rose from the front door. Tilting his head he made way to the hall and towards the railing overlooking the stairs to the lower floor. A shadow he could faintly make out as that of a woman lingered behind the barely transparent fabric blocking any inquisitive eyes from prying into the innards of the abode.

When another rumble of knocks resounded he broke from his thoughts and quickly descended the stairs. "Coming!" he called by instinct and upon arriving slowly peeled open the door.

The first thing he noticed, the ten meters of grass lawn the petered out into a white oblivion of utter nothingness. But now, stood before him on his porch was a woman.

She was young, late twenties, early thirties at most, but with so few indicators of age that she could easily be misconstrued as a teenager at first glance. Her youngness only blared even heavier with how she almost seemed to glow with some unusual divine energy. Crystalline blue eyes and plump attractive red lips were accentuated and framed by illustrious pearlescent hair that flickered through different colours as the light hit it differently, cascading down her shoulders to end just above her pert and undoubtedly plump rump.

Her figure while not overly buxom was still very much ample and was further accentuated by her elegant and revealing one-piece dress with two high slit thighs that rose to her wide hips but were filled in with some sheer, nigh translucent pearlescent fabric that shimmered much like her hair, also a window to her bosom that fell to just below her belly button kept Oliver unsure of where to look and not be construed as a pervert. Lastly, at her feet, she wore nothing but a faint leather wrapping sandal.

"Uh, hello. You're god I'm guessing?" Oliver asked with a slight gulp as his cheeks rose red with heat.

She tilted her head as if befuddled by the notion but quickly calmed to giggle cutely into her hand. "Oh no, far from the god you're imagining." She said.

'So she is a god, just not the one I'm thinking of? Perfectly helpful.'

Lowering a hand to her chest she bowed her head. "I am Retia. The SIN-Unit assigned to overseeing all Dreamers set to take part in Etherium." She answered heaping onto Oliver a whole bunch of new confusion.

"SIN-Unit? Dreamers? Etherium?" He repeated in order of first appearance, failing utterly to see what any except the second could mean.

Retia nodded, her eyes sparkled setting off fireworks of attraction in Oliver's heart. "Yes. I am here to explain everything to you about what is currently happening. May I come in so we can get more comfortable?"

Oliver hesitated for a second but said nonetheless, "yeah, uh, sure." And stepped out of the way letting the woman enter. Before doing so she pinched the sides of her dress and lifted them slightly enough that she could give a curt and neat curtsy.

"I thank you for allowing me entrance into your abode." She whispered in such a tone Oliver may very well not have heard it if silence wasn't the main noise in this void of nothingness. She strode, no slid into his house with small but swift and silent steps. His previous assertion that her bottom was quite pert being proven right as he followed the sashaying of her hips like he was following the swaying of a grandfather clocks pendulum.

'Stop perving dude.' Oliver tore his eyes—though reluctantly— from her bottom and to her back. Following her into the lounge not once questioning how she knew where to go. She took the two-seater while he took to the three-seater, taking the closes one to her for himself.

"I believe you must be quite confused." Retia looked to him with her crystalline eyes, her tone ever calm, ever entrancing as if an angel was whispering sweet nothing into his ear.

"Yeah, that's a bit of an understatement though." He awkwardly smiled a response.

Retia's head bobbed a few times and she crossed her hands over her laps, "I completely understand. Shall I begin with what is happening to you currently. Or would you rather I start from the beginning and inform you of the events leading to your arrival here?"

While his current circumstances were certainly something he wanted to know about, he couldn't help but feel more concern for the others. His family. "Just… is Bonnie Okay?"

She nodded swiftly, her smile never once faltering. "Ms Bonnie Geiger is alright. Though traumatised by your assault at the hands of ms. Solenne Chausson, she has been getting weekly therapy and is steadily coming to terms with your passing."

Shock jolted through him. The confirmation that he was dead, he'd expected it already but it was a jolt to his systems to hear it so casually spoken about.

"I… I see... Do you… do you know if she got my present?" his fingers squeezed together, turning pale from the pressure.

Retia shook her head, "No, I am afraid I do not."

"Oh…" he sighed, the tension in his body quelling even just a little. "And my parents, what about them? Are they okay?"

"Your parents were saddened with your passing and while the initial weeks after your passing were tough they are pleased to inform you that they have put together a fund in your name to help fund the teaching of disadvantaged children in the art of games design. So named the Oliver Geiger Foundation."

Oliver's brow rose high in shock. 'How weird is that?' he chuckled as he thought, 'a foundation in my name… but, inform me?'

"What do you mean by inform me? Did they ask you to tell me? Can you talk to them?"

"To a degree, yes. While I did not converse with them directly, my programmers did and they have implanted me with several bits about your family and events before, and just after your passing."

"Right, right." By now he was figuring on his own he hadn't just died and gone to heaven. With something as specific as programming being mentioned that meant only one thing. He'd died and gone to the Matrix. "Before I get into all this talk about programmers and all that… he sucked in a sharp breath that was almost a whistle through his teeth and braced himself for his next question, "Solenne… what's happening to her?"

A weak frown partook Retia's expression, the first falter from her ever-present smile to show. "In the process of assaulting you, Ms Solenne Chausson has suffered a gunshot to the chest which narrowly missed her heart and exited through her back. She has survived and was sentenced to twenty years in prison after the act was deemed a crime of passion brought on through a misunderstanding in which she believed you to have been cheating on her with another woman, namely your sister, Bonnie Geiger. This decision was also brought about after numerous psychological evaluations were undertaken and it was discovered that Ms Solenne Chausson suffers from both Bipolar disorder as well as a chronic psychosis."

"Jesus Christ." Oliver blurted, "I didn't- If I'd know- god Solenne…" Rubbing a hand over his face he muttered, "fuck me…" even after everything he couldn't help but feel pity for his junior. If he'd know she was suffering like that… he didn't even see anything like that… 'Was she hiding it from me?'

"Bonnie… my family… How did they react to everything with Solenne?"

"I was informed that your sister spent a total of thirty-two hours imprisoned after she assaulted Ms Chausson and knocked out three teeth as well as loosened two more during her trial. After which your sister has met with Ms Chausson once after your funeral. Otherwise, I do not know anything about your families reaction to Ms Chausson's imprisonment.

Oliver's mouth hung, his lips trembling as if he was about to fall into a fit of solemn laughter. "Really? Bonnie knocked out Solenne's teeth? I did not expect that from the munchkin." He shook his head, slightly sorry for the dentures or implants Solenne had to get after his sister met her.

When his chuckling died a sudden dark hue came over him. Sadness filled his eyes and weakened his muscles tempting him to sink into his seat. The realization that he wasn't going to get to see them again… it was a horrible feeling.

"Can't believe I'm gone…" he leaned back into his seat feeling the cushiony goodness as it enveloped and barely calmed his nerves. Small trickles of tears were tempted to run down his cheeks and ruin his mascara, were he wearing any.

Retia didn't say anything as he began to sniffle and crossed an arm over his eyes. Keeping still she let him wallow for a bit and come to terms with this information.

"Go ahead with what's going on now. I don't need… want to hear any more about the past."

Retia slowly bobbed, almost mechanically yet simultaneously naturally, " understood." In a soft sympathetic tone, "during the initial days after your assault, you were successfully saved from death but in the process had become comatose due to blood loss and lack of oxygen supply to your brain, thus making you for all intents and purposes, brain dead. Though there was little true damage dealt to your brain."

'Well fuck.'

"During your comatose state, your family was approached by representatives of the Phoenix Foundation and were offered an experimental form of technology that would allow you a second chance. By copying your consciousness into a digital format, Phoenix hoped to repair and lingering damage to your mind and study the effects doing so would have upon your psyche and whether it would be possible to eventually transfer the human mind into an artificial body."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, I'm sorry." Oliver urgently stopped her, "did you just insinuate I was used to figure out how to make a goddamned terminator?"

Retia quirked a brow and nodded. "To a degree, yes. Though unlike the terminators your mind would be your own and not an offshoot of Skynet. It would be a direct copy of your brain, meaning you would technically not be an artificial intelligence, but a true human intelligence."

"Alright, okay, that is still unnerving. So does that mean the me right now is a clone and not the real me? This isn't even my own soul?"

"Yes. I do understand how conflicting it must be to hear this, but it was deemed as inhumane to hide this fact for fear that should you discover this in the future that the chances of you having a mental breakdown may significantly rise than if told upfront about your current circumstance."

"I-that is." Oliver swallowed the syrupy globule of spit stuck in the back of his throat, his eyes trembling furiously. "Jesus Christ, that is fucking amazing!" he burst out in laughter. "Holy shit! I mean, I'm a clone? Like what the actual fuck? How-just the amount of storage needed to store the entire human mind and keep my psyche intact must be immense. Let alone the programming to even allow all of-all of this!" he threw his hands out wildly gesturing to the nigh perfect recreation of life surrounding himself. "I'd heard rumours something like this was in development, but to think it had already advanced so far, I'm just—my mind is blown." Oliver dropped his hands to his side, mid still reeling as he comprehended the dynamics and complexities copying the human mind entailed. A wide smile laced across his expression as his jaw opened and closed like a fish guzzling on gallons of water. His gaze was even more analytical seeking out even the smallest of flaws in his new reality but failing to do so.

Retia blinked once, then twice, her own 'thoughts' confused to such an accepting reaction. "You are quite welcoming to this idea it seems. I was informed that you may have an unusual reaction, it appears my information may be less than comprehensive."

"Oh very. I mean yeah, learning I don't 'exist'" he air quoted, "is strange, to say the least. But I have to be realistic as well. I could sit here bawling my eyes out in terror that I'm being harvested for my electricity but that's just going to get me nowhere fast. Though, quick question, how many 'Me's' apart from the current me and dead me, exist?"

"Only yourself is currently active. Due to the difficulty associated with collating and storing the full expanse of human consciousness in a manipulatable form as well as the sheer cost in doing so, it was deemed that there would only ever be two copies of an entire human mind made."

"Active… does that mean the other copy is inactive."

"Yes. Due to the digital nature of your current body, risks such as corruption or possible server malfunction became readily apparent to the staff of Phoenix. In response, an alternate version of yourself and all other Dreamers has been placed into storage and is frequently updated so that should something occur that damages your current persona, you can readily be repaired."

"In essence, should something go wrong. I won't die."

"Yes."

Hunching deeper into his seat, Oliver rubbed his temple, going silent to let himself process this new wealth of information. "I… wow, just wow. Are you like me then? Are you also one of these 'Dreamers' I think you've been calling me? Or are you something else? You said you were programmed?"

"To a degree yes, to a degree no." Retia remained still, only her head tilting to face him while her hands remained ever unmoving atop her lap. "While yes, I am partially comprised from data collated through the study of the neural connections of humanity and have portions of data collected from the Dreamers, I am still artificial in nature. I have neither had, nor do I currently have what you would consider a 'Life."

That answered his question to a third degree. "Why is that? Wouldn't it be better to have someone like me do this? No offence."

"I do not take offence." Whether that was a statement that she wasn't offended or she just wasn't programmed to take offence, he wasn't sure. "Due to my nature of overseeing all Dreamers to enter Etherium in the future, it was deemed too dangerous to allow a mind that can grow bored and weary of control. Hence I and all other divinities within the Etherium are artificial in nature. Though we are still subject to the controls of our creators and any possible alterations they may wish to make of us."

'Basically, she's a never sleeping, never tiring worker. I mean, I understand the need, but it still feels… cruel.' He thought. Furthering the conversation, "I think I've got it."

"Then shall I continue with my explanation of your current situation then?"

It had been quite the sidetrack to this conversation but now it was time to get the wheels back on the track and fire up the engines with a few scoops of coal. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll try not to interrupt this time."

"Understood. After your mind was successfully collated into a digital format and while it was being processed and repaired of any damaged portions. You were transferred into a secondary project being undertaken by Phoenix and its child company, Dreamland."

'Never heard of them.'

"It is that project which has provided for us this space. A digital world named the Etherium Protocols, or simply Etherium."

'Explains the rendition of my home… no wait, actually, no it doesn't. Who the hell scanned my home?'

"Etherium is intended to be a new world, a true heaven after death for humanity. Due to the digital nature of Etherium, this allowed Phoenix and subsequently Dreamland, to craft worlds that had once been deemed impossible or illogical to humanity. A fantasy world with dragons, swords, even magic, or a world where the stars can be touched and millions of galaxies can be explored. Even a world where there is no war, no strife, where hunger does not, and simply cannot exist. A world in which humanity can once again live in harmony alongside the earth long after it has expired."

Oliver gaped, had she just told him he could go to a fantasy world. A legitimate fantasy world? Well, as legitimate as a digital construction could be. That was just… It was a literal dreamland for a geek such as himself. "You said 'intended.' Does that mean that none of them is done."

Retia paused her breath and processed, "designing a dreamscape is an arduous undertaking and has spread the staff of Dreamland thin. Currently, a single dreamscape is nearing completion while another is only recently beginning development. Namely, Elysium, a universe in which magic and science become one and the stars are more than simply flickers of light in the sky but places one can explore should they have the means."

"So a Sci-fi world then? Sci-fi fantasy if magic is in there. So is that why we're here now? Why I'm awake? Because you want me to enter this new Dreamscape, as you call it?"

She bowed her head once then twice in quick succession. "Due to your previous occupation studying games design and development, I was to inform you that you would be taking on the occupation as what amounts to a beta tester as well as quality assurance tester alongside several other Dreamers before the first Dreamscape would be released to the living world."

"Wait, so this dreamscape isn't just for us dead people?"

"No. Due to the costs of creating a Dreamscape as well as for replicating the human mind, Phoenix found that the best way to recuperate the money invested into its creation was to allow the public at large access into the Dreamscape. Hence your stay within would be likened to playing a Virtual Reality Massively Multiplayer Online Roleplaying Game."

'Preferably shortened to VRMMORPG.' He added in post, his heart beating out of his chest with such fervour he could liken it to the heart of an earthquake.

"To alleviate some concerns you may have about potential deadly encounters within this Dreamscape, I was informed to inform you that pain can optionally be nullified and death can be disabled. Like in a video game, should you choose to keep death enabled when you die you will simply come back to life not long after in a safe location, though certain things may occur such as loss of equipment, a lengthy debuff, or even failure of quests. Unlike the players, you will not have a set time you will have to wait before being allowed to restart your adventure. Though it is recommended that should you suffer through a death, you should take at minimum eight hours off from the game and contact the on hand therapist to help alleviate any lingering emotions death may entail."

'I mean, that was a concern, not a very big one. But that's calming enough. Probably going to ignore the warnings anyways… I'm going to regret this decision, aren't I?'

"All-alright. Uh, I-I don't know what to say. Thank you? Or, well, thanks to these Dreamscape people. So, I'm going to be testing out this Dreamscape then. Am I just entering this place after it's ready then?"

"No. The Dreamscape is for all intents and purposes complete and you will be capable of entering and exiting at will by simply approaching the front door of your mindscape," the copy of his house he was guessing, "and you will be offered a choice of Dreamscapes to enter. Currently, only Elysium is available while another is in development. Though for the coming three-hundred-and-thirty-six hours you will be unable to enter Elysium."

"Acclimation period?" No chance he'd just get into a digital world and expect to be thrown into a new one just as suddenly. He needed time to acclimate. Just like a newly bought fish going into a tank, keep it in the bag, put it into a small floating bowl and let it float around a bit to get used to the water.

"Indeed. It was deemed that the shock of-"

"That's fine Retia. I get it. No need to explain this one." He stopped her before she could say any more.

"Understood. Do you have any more questions?"

"Oh, I have questions. Enough that by the time my two-week vacay is done I'll have only gotten through half of them. But first… why is this place like my home? Familiar setting or something like that."

"You are correct. Due to the shock of death, a safe and familiar setting was deemed to be the most nurturing environment for a traumatized mind…"