I stared down at the folder laying in front of me. ETHAN COLE, CONFIDENTIAL, was written in bold text. Opening the folder, I started reading through the legal documents. The bold, black ink of the words LIABILITY WAIVER and NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT jumped off the page. At first glance, they seemed harmless—just another set of forms I had to sign, the usual corporate routine. They were more than just pages of fine print—they were the gateway to something huge, something that would shape the course of my career, my life.
The room was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of paper from the others around me. I shifted in my seat, glancing at the five people sitting across from me. I didn’t know any of them well, but I had memorized their names: Olivia Morgan, Jason Reed, Caleb Thorne, Maya Pierce, and Dylan Hart. We were all here for the same reason. All six of us were fresh out of top universities and had spent the past year rotating through various departments at NexusTech, proving ourselves as high-potential, top-performing new hires.
Despite the calmness in the room, I could see it in their faces—everyone here was just as unsure as I was. Maybe more so. None of us knew what we were truly walking into, but we were all staring at the same set of forms, absorbing the same uncertainty.
Project Ascension—the reason we were all here—was unlike anything I’d ever heard of. It was no ordinary management training program. No, this was something else entirely. It was a full-immersion virtual simulation set in the fantastical world of Erevos. Time in the simulation would move differently. A month of real-world time would equate to a year inside Erevos, thanks to advanced time-dilation technology. The details were vague, as was typical with high-stakes projects like this, but the implications were clear: success meant the fast track to leadership roles. And failure? That part was far too unclear for my liking, and I wasn’t eager to find out the hard way.
I glanced to my left at Olivia. She was sitting silently, looking at the documents, her blonde curls framing her face with an air of composure. She seemed... calm. Completely at ease, in fact. I admired her for it—how did she do that? How did she stay so put together while I was wrestling with my doubts? She caught me looking and winked, and I quickly turned my gaze back to the waiver. I wasn’t ready for that kind of attention.
Across from me, Maya’s sharp green eyes scanned the papers with quiet intensity. Jason was leaning forward, eyes fixed on the page, while Dylan nervously twiddled with his pen, as if looking for something to occupy his hands. Caleb sat at the head of the table, the calm anchor of the group, signing the papers without hesitation.
I forced myself to look back at the waiver. The doubts still gnawed at me, but the chance in front of me was too significant to ignore. The program could push me into leadership positions at NexusTech—high-level roles I couldn’t even begin to dream of.
Dr. Sandra Hargrave, who had introduced herself as head of the medical technologies division, had been polished and persuasive when presenting the program. I could still hear her voice in my head, confident and smooth: "You've all been chosen because of your exceptional performance over the past year. NexusTech is looking for leaders—people who can navigate complex challenges, innovate, and inspire. Project Ascension is your chance to prove that you're the future of this company."
Corporate buzzwords. I’d heard them all before—growth, innovation, leadership. But there was something about this pitch that felt different. The secrecy around the program made my skin prickle. It was obvious from the start that Project Ascension wasn’t like anything someone would encounter in a typical corporate training course. The secrecy surrounding it was almost suffocating, and something about it didn’t sit right with me. NexusTech was a global company, yet only a handful of people seemed to know about this project. The head of medical technologies running a leadership training program was strange, too. Shouldn’t it be someone from HR? And then there was the non-disclosure agreement—standard enough, but the secrecy? That didn’t feel normal. The waiver, though, was what really left me uneasy. What if the technology hadn’t been tested enough? What if the risks were greater than they let on?
My thoughts drifted back to Dr. Hargrave’s earlier presentation. She had explained the concept of time dilation. “The immersion technology we’re using is unlike anything you’ve ever encountered before,” she had said, pacing in front of us. “Inside the simulation, time will move differently. One month in real time will equate to roughly one full year in Erevos.” I’d almost laughed at the absurdity of it. A year? A whole year of experiences packed into a single month? It was almost too big to wrap my head around.
Then she added, "As a result, you'll each be compensated accordingly. NexusTech will pay you a full year’s salary for the month you spend in the capsule." That had been the real kicker. A full year’s salary for just one month of work? I exchanged a quick glance with the others, and I could see the same mix of surprise and intrigue reflected in their eyes. The offer was tempting, no doubt, but the idea of spending an entire year inside a simulation—a company-created simulation—was more than a little unnerving. Who knew what could go wrong? What were the real consequences of this kind of technology?
For the past year, I had dedicated myself fully to the job, rotating through different departments—engineering, product development, finance—focusing on the future, on corporate success. I hadn’t had time for anything else. But now, here it was. My chance. If I walked away, I’d always wonder what might have been. And if I signed… well, that opened the door to a whole world of unknowns. I let out a long breath and scribbled my name at the bottom of the page.
Dr. Hargrave’s voice broke my moment of contemplation. “Alright, you’ll have two weeks to prepare. During that time, you’ll undergo medical check-ups and begin a medication regimen to ready your bodies for full immersion. We will also perform a series of tests to establish baseline measures for each of you, allowing us to track your development throughout the program. We've provided you with background materials on Erevos, and there will be additional briefings where we’ll answer all your questions.”
I glanced down at a thick binder in front of me. The cover read Erevos: An Introduction to the World of Endless Possibilities. That’s where it would all take place. A virtual world created by Mythica Entertainment, a subsidiary of NexusTech. From what I understood, Erevos was an expansive, ever-changing land filled with ancient kingdoms, magical creatures, and challenges designed to push me and the others to our limits.
Dr. Hargrave’s voice filled the room again. “Your performance during Project Ascension will determine your future roles within the company. Succeed, and you will be positioned for leadership opportunities. NexusTech is looking for visionaries to guide us forward.”
Power. Prestige. Influence. I could see it all. But beneath it, something didn’t sit right. There was more to this program, more that Dr. Hargrave wasn’t saying.
The next two weeks felt like a blur. Every day was packed with medical evaluations, briefings, and endless mental preparation. They handed me a special set of clothes and gloves designed with advanced electronics, and I couldn't help but notice how they felt a bit... futuristic. The sensors embedded in the fabric weren’t just for show; they directly uploaded every bit of data on my performance to a central system, ensuring that every movement, every effort I made, was being analyzed and tracked.
The physical tests were the hardest part. I pushed my muscles to their absolute limits as I lifted progressively heavier weights, tackled resistance exercises, and tried to maintain some semblance of composure while the machines recorded everything. Strength, agility, dexterity, endurance—the system wasn’t just interested in raw power but how I handled pressure. They made me sprint through obstacle courses, climb and leap over barriers, testing my reflexes and balance with every move. Then, there were precision-based challenges—threading tiny objects through needles or hitting fast-moving targets that tested my hand-eye coordination. If I thought that was enough, the endurance trials pushed me even further. I ran long distances while my vitals were carefully monitored, tracking every breath, every drop of sweat, testing how well I could endure fatigue without faltering.
But the physical tests weren’t all they threw at me. Intelligence and wisdom were just as crucial. I sat in front of computers, solving complex mathematical problems, navigating theoretical mazes, and analyzing abstract scenarios—all against the clock. It was a strange mix of pressure and focus. My perception was challenged too—there were exercises designed to test my awareness, making me notice tiny changes in patterns or sounds that weren’t immediately obvious. Each result was logged and analyzed by the system, adjusting the difficulty as I went. The feedback was constant, real-time. It felt like I was being tested not just for what I knew, but for how I reacted to the pressure.
The psychological evaluations were just as intense as the physical ones. They wanted to see how I handled stress, how well I could interact with others, and whether I could lead when the moment called for it. I found myself in a variety of simulated social scenarios where my charisma and emotional intelligence were under scrutiny. In some situations, I had to persuade others to follow my lead; in others, I had to mediate conflicts or navigate tense conversations. There were even hypothetical confrontations designed to test my ability to stay composed when things got heated. It wasn’t easy, especially when I had to make decisions on the spot, but it helped me sharpen skills I hadn’t realized I needed.
By the end of the day, my brain felt fried. But there was always more to do. Every night, I found myself diving deeper into Erevos' lore, learning about its classes, its abilities, and its mechanics. I had never been much of a gamer, but I wasn’t about to walk into this blind. I needed to understand what I was getting into.
I learned that Erevos wasn’t just another game. It had been around for years, but it still had a magnetic pull on players. The virtual world was vast, a land teeming with sprawling cities and towering spires, marketplaces that buzzed with life, and dense forests filled with dangers. Gamers who entered through their VR headsets were swept into experiences like no other—one moment, walking down busy streets in a city, the next, venturing into ancient ruins to uncover long-lost secrets. It wasn’t just about the scenery; every corner of the world was meticulously crafted, from the flickering light of torches in dungeons to the sound of everyday life in the towns.
What set Erevos apart, however, wasn’t just its stunning design. It was the way it came to life through advanced artificial intelligence. This wasn’t a simple fantasy massively multiplayer online role-playing game; this was a world that responded to its players in ways that felt uncannily real. The magic behind it all was Aegis, the Procedural Storytelling Engine, which had access to vast libraries of knowledge—literature, history, science, and technology. Aegis used that information to generate deep, evolving narratives, turning Erevos into a world that felt as rich and complex as the real one.
Aegis didn’t just control the story—it shaped the world around it. Through its integration, Erevos could adapt and change based on the decisions players made. The world wasn’t static, it was alive, responding in real time to every action, every choice. That level of dynamic world-building was something I’d never seen before in any game. And if I wanted to succeed in Project Ascension, I needed to understand how to navigate a world like that.
Aegis didn’t just throw pre-written quests at you or rely on static NPCs (non-player characters) to fill the world. It was far more advanced. Aegis crafted evolving narratives, ones that changed based on every decision, every action, and even the emotional state of the player. This wasn’t just some story unfolding in front of you; it was a story that you co-authored in real-time. A choice as simple as helping an NPC could lead to an epic saga—one that could unfold into wars, alliances, or political intrigue, with the world itself responding dynamically to each action you took. Each player's journey would be utterly unique, shaped by their own path, their choices, and the consequences that followed.
NPCs in Erevos weren’t the typical characters bound by repetitive dialogue or predictable behavior either. They were powered by sophisticated AI that allowed them to think, evolve, and react in ways that felt almost too real. They had their own goals, their own memories, and their own personalities. Over time, these NPCs formed opinions about you. Maybe the blacksmith grew fond of you after a series of successful visits, or perhaps a merchant turned hostile after you betrayed their trust. The beauty of Erevos was that these interactions weren’t scripted—they were alive, constantly evolving with the players.
And then there was the world itself. Aegis didn't just manage the story; it controlled Erevos' very fabric—its terrain, ecosystems, even the economy. Everything in Erevos was shaped by AI-driven systems that mirrored the natural rhythms of a real society. Cities grew and shrank depending on player actions; faction wars were influenced by AI-managed resources, supply chains, military strategies, and politics. Whole landscapes could change, altered by dynamic events like storms, droughts, or magical anomalies.
The sophistication of Aegis was mind-blowing. It wasn’t just a storyteller—it was a world-builder, an event manager, and a dynamic engine that worked with the players' decisions to keep the world evolving. Its algorithms were fine-tuned, drawing from vast databases of history, science, literature, and creative works, blurring the line between reality and fantasy. When you logged into Erevos, it didn’t just feel like you were playing a game—it felt like you were stepping into a world that was as complex and unpredictable as the real one. It was the kind of experience that left you in awe, because Erevos didn’t just react to you—it evolved with you. It was a world that, for the first time, felt real.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
As I sifted through the material NexusTech had provided and dug deeper with my own research, I was blown away by the sheer range of characters that Erevos offered. It wasn’t just about picking a class—it was about stepping into an entirely different world. I could become a Dwarven Blacksmith, forging legendary weapons and armor to equip myself and other adventurers. Or a High Elf Mage, capable of wielding arcane spells that could twist the very fabric of reality. Maybe a Rogue, slipping through shadows, picking locks, and striking down enemies with deadly precision. For those who wanted to stand as protectors, the Paladin class would give them divine power to banish evil and shield the weak.
But that was just the beginning. In Erevos, the possibilities were limitless. I could raise armies of undead as a Necromancer or form powerful bonds with wild beasts as a Beastmaster. If I wanted to use my charisma to get through challenges, I could try my hand at being a Bard, enchanting others with magic and words.
As I read through all these options, I couldn’t help but wonder which role would suit me best. What class would leverage my skills? What character could offer me the greatest opportunity to succeed in Project Ascension? The possibilities were endless, but the pressure to choose wisely weighed on me. This wasn’t just about exploring a game—it was about preparing for my future.
The adventures waiting in Erevos were as dynamic as the world itself. Players could embark on quests to slay fearsome dragons or hunt for treasures buried deep in ancient tombs. For those interested in politics, there were the labyrinthine intrigues of noble courts. There were massive battles against demonic invasions, towns to defend from marauding warbands, and dark, winding dungeons filled with dangerous creatures. And that was just the combat side of things. For players who didn’t want to fight, Erevos had just as many opportunities: building and running guilds, trading exotic goods, attending festivals. It seemed there was no limit to what you could do, no matter what type of player you were.
What really set Erevos apart, though, was its global community. Players from every corner of the world could connect, forming international alliances and collaborating in ways that had never been possible in games before. With the advanced multiplayer mechanics, we’d be able to interact in real-time, no matter the time zone, language, or distance between us. Erevos was more than just a game; it was a world where cultural divides could be overcome, and strategies could be formed effortlessly across the globe.
During the briefings, NexusTech’s engineers went over the details of the immersion process. They explained how the technology they were using wasn’t like the VR headsets regular gamers used. This was something entirely different—advanced enough that it would feel real. The capsules we’d be using would manage everything from our nutrition to waste disposal. We wouldn’t just be observing the world of Erevos; we’d be fully immersed in it. Every sensation—the weight of a sword in my hand, the sting of an enemy’s blade—would feel as real as anything in the physical world.
One of the engineers had explained it with a level of confidence that made my skin prickle. “The neural connections are so advanced,” he had said, “that your brain won’t be able to distinguish Erevos from reality.”
The thought of losing myself in a world that real was unsettling, but it was also thrilling. How would it feel to experience something so immersive, where every moment would be as impactful as the last? There were a lot of unknowns still, but I couldn’t help but be drawn to the potential. What awaited me in Erevos wasn’t just a game—it was a whole new reality.
What was even more astounding was the real-world impact of the immersion. The capsules we’d be using were equipped with cutting-edge technology that went far beyond anything I’d imagined. Neurostimulators, muscle feedback systems, and nutritional regulators—these systems were designed to translate the physical and mental development in Erevos directly to our real bodies. As players engaged in strenuous activities inside the game, the capsule technology would stimulate corresponding muscle groups, enhancing strength and endurance over time. It wasn’t just about playing; the technology would make us physically stronger, fitter, more capable. Meanwhile, the system would monitor and optimize our nutritional intake, supporting muscle growth and recovery like a personal trainer tailored to each of us. It seemed like something straight out of science fiction, but here it was, real and ready for us.
The implications of this hit me gradually. As I thought about it, it became clear: I wasn’t just going to play a game. I was about to live it. This wasn’t virtual reality as I’d known it. This was a whole new level of immersion, one that had the potential to physically transform my body and mind. It was exhilarating—and terrifying. The idea that I could grow stronger and smarter simply by playing a game was almost too much to comprehend. What if it worked? What if the game changed me in ways I didn’t expect? I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person I’d become after a month inside Erevos.
During one of the briefings, Dr. Hargrave stepped forward, her expression more serious now. She’d been calm and measured up until that point, but there was a new edge to her voice as she spoke. “The primary goal of this program is to develop and evaluate your leadership skills in a setting that mirrors the complexities and unpredictability of the real world—only amplified. In Erevos, you’ll face not just physical challenges, but also ethical dilemmas, situations where the right course of action may not be immediately clear. You’ll be tested on your ability to make decisions that balance short-term gains with long-term consequences, to lead others through adversity, and to innovate when traditional solutions fail.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Ethical dilemmas? It sounded like they were planning to put us in some pretty heavy situations—more than just slaying monsters and solving puzzles. What did they mean by “the right course of action”? The idea of not knowing what was right in the moment—of having to make decisions with real consequences—was unnerving.
Dr. Hargrave moved to the side, revealing a screen behind her. A series of graphs, charts, and data points flickered to life. “Your progress will be closely monitored, though not in the way you might think. We won’t be watching your every move or listening in on your every conversation. Instead, we’ll be evaluating your decisions based on a set of key performance indicators—leadership effectiveness, strategic thinking, adaptability, and decision-making. These metrics will be tracked by AI and rate how each of you responds to the pressures and challenges of leadership.”
The room was quiet as the charts changed, showing different aspects of our progress. I shifted in my seat, trying to make sense of it all. What did these metrics mean? Was I going to be graded on how well I could lead a team? On my ability to think strategically under pressure?
Dr. Hargrave continued, gesturing to one of the charts. “For example, your ability to manage resources effectively will be tested in scenarios where supplies are scarce, and you must decide how best to allocate them. Your interpersonal skills will be evaluated in situations where you must mediate conflicts or inspire your team to achieve a common goal. And your strategic thinking will be challenged when you are faced with complex problems that require not just a quick fix, but a long-term solution.”
The thought of managing resources, solving complex problems, and leading others—this wasn’t just about surviving the simulation. This was about developing skills that would carry over into the real world. Leadership, strategy, and decision-making—these were the tools I would need to succeed in the program.
She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in. "But this program isn’t just about evaluating your current abilities. It’s also about growth. Erevos is a dynamic world, and the challenges you face will evolve as you progress. The decisions you make will shape your experience, leading to new opportunities for learning and development. You’ll have the chance to reflect on your choices, learn from your mistakes, and refine your approach. By the end of this program, our goal is for each of you to emerge not just as a more effective leader, but as a visionary capable of guiding NexusTech into the future."
Dr. Hargrave scanned the room, her gaze intense, yet oddly encouraging. "Understand this: Project Ascension is as much about testing the limits of this technology as it is about testing you. It’s about exploring the boundaries of what immersive training can achieve and how it can prepare leaders for the challenges of tomorrow. You are the pioneers of this program, and your success here will pave the way for future leaders at NexusTech."
The word "pioneers" stuck with me. We weren’t just participants; we were trailblazers in uncharted territory. I felt a strange mix of pride and anxiety swell within me. Was I really ready to blaze this trail? Could I be one of the leaders they envisioned?
She softened her tone, stepping back slightly, and said, "I won’t sugarcoat it—this will be difficult. You will be tested in ways you haven’t been tested before. But remember, this is also an opportunity. An opportunity to grow, to push yourself, and to prove that you have what it takes to lead in an increasingly complex and unpredictable world. Project Ascension is your chance to show us, and yourselves, that you are ready for the challenges ahead."
But then Dr. Hargrave dropped a bombshell. “Once you enter the capsule, your memories of your real life will be temporarily blocked. This includes knowledge of your employment with NexusTech and the fact that you’re part of a training program. We need to ensure that your actions and decisions inside Erevos are authentic—driven by the situation, not by the knowledge that you’re being tested. This is about evaluating your true abilities and tendencies.”
That hit me like a punch to the gut. The idea of losing my memories, even for a short time, unsettled me. I had worked hard to get to this point in my life—every experience, every choice, it all made me who I was. To lose that, even temporarily, felt like an erasure of everything I had built. But I also understood the need for it. If we knew we were being tested, our actions would be skewed. The whole point of Project Ascension was to test us as we truly were, not as a version of ourselves aware of the game.
Then Dylan spoke up, his question hanging in the air. “What happens if we die in Erevos? Will we remember it? I mean... will we feel the pain?”
Dr. Hargrave’s smile was practiced, reassuring, like she had answered this exact question hundreds of times. "That's a good question, Dylan. The immersive technology in Erevos is designed to replicate all sensory experiences, including pain. However, the intensity of pain is carefully regulated. You won’t feel the full brunt of an injury or death as you would in the real world. It will be uncomfortable, yes—painful, even—but it won’t be unbearable. The experience will stay with you, much like the memory of a vivid dream. It might be unsettling, but it won’t leave you with lasting trauma."
I wasn’t sure if I felt reassured or more unsettled. Pain is pain, right? Even if it wasn’t as intense as real life, the idea of feeling it, knowing that I would remember it, made my stomach turn.
She paused, letting the room process her words. "You will remember the event of dying or being injured, just as clearly as you would recall any other experience, but it will feel more like a hazy recollection of a nightmare rather than a real-life ordeal. We’re pushing you to your limits, but the system is designed to pull you back before anything becomes truly overwhelming."
I nodded, but the discomfort lingered. It was hard to shake the feeling that no matter how much they tried to control the pain, it would still affect me—emotionally, if not physically. Could I really endure it?
Dr. Hargrave continued, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. "Also, in Erevos, death isn’t permanent—at least, not for you as participants. When you die, you’ll lose all the experience you've gained toward your next level. Your progress bar will reset for that level."
I raised my hand and asked, “What if we just leveled up? What happens then?”
Dr. Hargrave responded immediately. "Well, Ethan, if you’ve recently leveled up, the penalty is small because you won’t have accumulated much experience toward the next level. But if you’re close to leveling up and die, the loss will be more significant. For regular gamers in Erevos, death forces them out of the game for an hour before they can reenter."
"For you, it’s similar. If you die, your character will be temporarily removed from the game. It will be like you’ve been asleep for an hour, allowing your mind to reset. When you reenter, you’ll return to your last binding point—a location where your character is anchored in the game. If you haven’t yet reached a binding point, you’ll reappear at the same spot where your body lies."
Dr. Hargrave didn’t let up. "If you die twice within a 24-hour period, the consequences increase. On your second death, you’ll be removed from the game for four hours. On your third death within the same 24-hour period, the removal extends to twelve hours. To you, it will feel like no time has passed at all, but your experience bar will be reset every time."
Maya spoke up next, asking what we were all thinking. "So, we’ll still remember everything about dying in Erevos? Even though the pain is capped?"
Dylan added, "We won’t feel the full impact, but we still have to live with the consequences."
Dr. Hargrave’s eyes flicked between them, and her response was calm, deliberate. "Exactly. The loss of experience is meant to deter reckless behavior. Just like in the real world, actions have consequences. The system is designed to teach you the importance of being thoughtful about your choices."
Her gaze swept across the room, as though she were sizing us up. "Erevos will push you, test you, and challenge your instincts as leaders. How you respond to failure, setbacks, and yes, even death, will help shape who you are as a leader—not just in the game, but in life."
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. This was no longer just a game. It was a crucible. One that would test everything I had. Would I rise to the challenge or crumble under the weight?
Olivia, ever the challenger, leaned forward, her eyes sharp with determination. "So, we’re the first to experience this level of extended immersion. What happens if there’s a malfunction with the technology? We’re completely submerged in these capsules, right? What happens if the system breaks down?"
Dr. Hargrave answered without hesitation. "That’s precisely why we have multiple monitoring systems in place. Throughout the entire process, your vital signs—both mental and physical—will be closely tracked. If there’s any sign of distress, our technicians will pull you out of the simulation immediately. NexusTech has designed the system with multiple layers of fail-safes to ensure that no malfunction, however unlikely, puts you at risk."
That was comforting... at least, somewhat. But the more I learned, the more I felt that creeping anxiety. Pain. Death. Moral dilemmas. Malfunctions. It was all starting to sound more dubious by the minute. This was no longer just a training program—it was a real test of who I was, of what I could handle.
The questions kept coming, one after another—some focused on the intricacies of the simulation itself, others digging into the potential risks and rewards. I could feel the buzz in the room, an undercurrent of anxiety and anticipation mixing together, charging the atmosphere. It was palpable, like the air itself was thick with the unknown.
I sat back, listening, but kept my thoughts to myself. Dr. Hargrave’s answers only raised more questions, but despite the doubts and risks, I knew I couldn’t back out now. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for—a chance to prove myself and reshape my career. The rewards were too great to ignore. I pushed the unease aside. I had come this far, and I wasn’t going to let fear hold me back. Whatever happens in Erevos, I’ll handle it.
