An ecstatic crowd raised their arms in worship before a giant screen. For the worshippers, their cathedral was a stadium, their god the latest video game release, and they—the faithful—shared a euphoria so intense their raucous applause rumbled beneath seats and trembled through the air. Thousands screamed, their excitement melding as they witnessed the most momentous gaming release of a generation.

In the wings of the stage, Calvin peered out and amused himself with his observations of the crowd. He adjusted the microphone on his collar. Then he smoothed down the front of his plaid button-up shirt with his hands, trying in vain to iron his apprehension away.

The announcer on loudspeaker cued his entrance. “And now, we introduce the CEO of Neuronacore—Calvin Fehrday!” A second tsunami of applause shook the room when he dashed, waving, onto the stage.

He checked the giant screen behind him where an enlarged live shot of his every detail was broadcast to the crowd. His tousled hair framed his freckled face and glasses so he could dart right past and no one would guess he was the prophet of cutting-edge technology.

Good. He wanted it that way.

Years of frenzied development had led to the launch of the first total immersion virtual online multi-player game. And it was his job to unveil it to the world, playing the part of the everyman.

Covering his mouth with a fist to clear his throat, he began to speak. His anxiety receded and left his stage persona behind. His amplified words boomed from his microphone.

“Welcome, loyal fans and gamers. For years, the mak- ers of Neuronacore have brought you online virtual gaming, streamed live to your computer. Your gaming systems. Your laptops. Your smartphones.

“We at Neuronacore are determined to draw you out of your world so you can join us in ours: immersing your senses in a more intense and realistic gaming experience. Remember these?”

From inside his pocket, he drew out a pair of 3-D glasses, and taking off his own lenses, he donned the antiquated red and blue eyewear, blinking comically to the laughter of the crowd. He flung them aside with a chuckle.

Calvin continued, “These 3-D glasses were the modern world’s first ticket to immersion. But for generations, you’ve begged for more realism. More exciting gameplay. More interaction. More fulfillment! Each time, we delivered. And now, Neuronacore will transform science fiction into fact and bring YOU, the gamer, into true and total immersion!”

With that, he moved to the center of the stage and in one motion, he yanked the cloth off a covered object. He revealed a chair beneath a spotlight and a thin helmet connected by wires to a CPU. Approaching the chair, he lifted the helmet. “What you are looking at is the bridge that will transport you from your world into ours. Now, for the sake of this demonstration, we will broadcast the events of the game onto the screen from the server so you can witness this modern miracle for yourself. “We planned to ask one of our engineers to demonstrate this new technology, but that would defeat the purpose. This technology wasn’t made for us. Haha! Although we do spend a great deal of time playing with our toys.” Chuckles abounded from the audience. “No. This technology was made for you.”

Calvin paused with a flourish of his hand. He announced, “Thus, I ask an eager and brave volunteer to come up and demonstrate to us how it’s done.”

A sea of hands shot up.

Grinning and taking his time to savor the yearning of the crowd and the triumph of the moment, he sauntered to the edge and let his eyes roam over the people. He pointed to an enthusiastically waving young man and called out, “How about you? The gentleman in the green polo? Why don’t you make your way to the chair?”

Amid the excited cheers, the volunteer skipped onstage, shook Calvin’s hand wildly, and took a seat.

“What’s your name, green polo? Or may I continue to call you green polo?”

The audience laughed. Calvin winked at them.

“You may call me that. But my name is Scott Mayer. Thanks for letting me come up here.”

“Scott Mayer, everyone!” All applauded as Calvin lowered the helmet over Scott’s head.

“Wonderful. It’s wonderful to share this with you. My team and I have been immersed more times than you can count, and…” Calvin paused for dramatic effect. “It is an experience like no other,” he breathed at last, his words a sigh of deep longing. He watched the effect they had on his audience, noting their desire and curiosity.

“So Scott, are you ready?”

“Hell yeah! Been waiting for this my whole life!” “Very well, then. Adventurous.”

“Thank you,” laughed Scott bashfully.

“No. Thank you. And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for.”

The stadium gradually dimmed. As the spotlight brightened over the stage, the screen on the back wall began to show a dashboard menu.

After a delay, the screen displayed a message that read, “Calibration Complete. All vitals in sync.”

Calvin’s lips widened in a grin as shiny as candle wax. “Keep in mind our server is broadcasting to you what Scott sees. And yes, until the game is in play, he can hear everything we are saying. So no name calling.”

A few members of the audience booed in joking disappointment.

“Now, Scott. I’d like for you to mentally select the game of your preference from the menu and hit the play button to begin.”

Scott’s head rested against the back of the tall cushy chair, his eyes closed as if resting in the deepest of calm, drifting somewhere far away.

Calvin watched as the game War Zone was selected. The button lit up and soon the dashboard menu melted away, dissolving into a first-person view of a snowy European town. With bated breath, Calvin was glued to the screen, seeing through Scott’s eyes. The ragged white puffs of Scott’s breath wafted up into the air, greedily sucked away by the cold thick night. He lifted both hands to his face and wiggled his fingers. As he wiped his chilled hands across the front of his chest, he found himself looking down at a mud-streaked uniform and battle-worn boots.

A flash of orange lit the sky from afar, and distant shouting drew him on. Soon, the sound of gunshots and cannon fire echoed and exploded very near as Scott ran for cover with his rifle bouncing in hand. A grenade shattered the sky as the burning buildings bled the stars red across the screen. The sound of marching soldiers and snatches of German could be heard.

Scott conversed with members of his own platoon and took out enemy soldiers with the ease of a veteran who had spent many hours perfecting his skills in front of a computer screen. At one point during a lull in the battle, a fellow soldier shared his cigarettes with Scott. The soldier’s penetrating gaze cut straight through the rings of smoke and into the audience.

Taking another drag that lit up the end of his cigarette like an ember, the soldier asked, “So. Where ya from?”

Abashed, Scott replied, “Uhm. Well. Geez, uh…”

“Must have been in this war too long, son. Done forgot your hometown.”

“It’s uh, somewhere…you know…far…far away from here,” stammered Scott.

“Hahaha!” the man guffawed with an unmistakable tone of sarcasm that faded into a long rattling cough of despair. “Well, son. I’m from Breaker, Ohio. Just a tiiiiiny little town out in the Midwest. Ever been there?”

Scott shook his head, the screen showing the scenery move from side to side.

“Huh. Well, it’s a small town. I’ve got a small house. We’ve got a garden out back, and miles of wheat every which way, a silo on the horizon. S’not much to look at, but it’s all mine. Much like my wife.”

With that, he gave a snort of laughter that disintegrated into more coughing, but when he gathered up his eyes to look at Scott once more, there were tears in them. And anyone could see that it was more than the coughing that put them there.

Huskily, he said, “Yup. Ohio. It’s home. Far far away from here too. For all of us.”

Suddenly, a terrible boom ignited an artificial dawn in the dis- tance. Fighting erupted again. As they charged, Scott watched a bullet whistle through the air, a whistle of nonchalance that lodged itself directly between the man’s eyes.

“Oh SHIT! Oh shit oh shit oh shit!” Scott yelled as he lifted his gun and fired. He swung his weapon from side to side in an uncontrolled sweeping arc.

“You killed him. You KILLED him!!” sobbed Scott.

The entire screen shook while the sound of warfare boomed from the loudspeakers. Rolling behind cover, Scott fought on, and it wasn’t long before the same whistling murderer bit through Scott’s own head, and he fell face-first onto the ground. And all went dark.

The last vision of crimson earth vanished as the game registered the player’s death and the screen reverted back to the main dashboard. Calvin let the audience simmer in stunned silence for half a minute before he broke it with the sound of his lone clapping.

“And didn’t he fight valiantly! A round of applause for Scott Mayer, everyone!” Calvin stepped back into the limelight of the stage. He watched the audience remember where they were.

Starting with a few tentative claps, the rest joined in.

“Scott, can you hear me? If so, press the exit button with your mind to disengage yourself from the server.”

The screen went blank, and once again, it displayed Calvin’s head as he smiled at the crowd.

Calvin removed the transporting helmet from Scott. Opening his eyes, the gamer blinked many times as he surveyed the crowd and the stage.

“How do you feel, Scott? Keep in mind, some disorientation is to be expected. After all, your brain was connected to a computer. But rest assured that you will be fine.”

“Yeah,” said Scott. “The dizziness is going away. I feel fine now.”

“And what are your thoughts regarding the game?” “It’s…uh…wow…umm…gee…I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I was there. It was like nothing else I’ve ever been up against in a first-person shooter before. And the soldiers. Talking to them was like talking to real people. Was there even a script?”

Scott blinked and looked around, dazed.

Grinning, Calvin turned around to address the people. “Oh. By the way. Every person, organism, animal you meet in these games is created using the most cutting-edge artificial intelligence known to date. In the past, you’ve complained that the NPCs were dull, boring, predictable, robotic even. Now, that won’t ever be an issue again, for these people will be as unpredictable as you wish. As realistic as you want. They can be thought of as your fellow co-players. Your friends. Your nemeses.

“Now, Scott. How are you feeling?” Calvin turned back to the still bewildered gamer.

“Great! I mean, I feel fine, but maaan, that soldier though.” Grief stole over his face, followed by confusion. It was as if he could not make up his mind whether to mourn or not.

“Yes,” Calvin spoke with a dismissive wave. “But tell me, would you play this game again?”

“I-I-I guess I would. B-b-but…”

Calvin cut him off in a hurry. “Well, you heard the man! Give it up one more time for Scott Mayer!”

And as the audience clapped and whooped, itching to buy the console, Calvin wrapped up the demonstration with his parting words. “And that, loyal fans and gamers, is the first and only Total Immersion VOMP, brought to you by the makers at Neuronacore. Enjoy and remember: Stimulate your mind with Neuronacore. Experience life as never before.”