Neon Mirage
The city stretched endlessly into the sky, a glowing labyrinth of neon-lit towers, sky bridges, and holographic billboards that pulsed with advertisements for products that changed every second. Vion-7 was the crown jewel of the new world, a utopia where crime was obsolete, hunger was eradicated, and life was, by all measurable standards, perfect.
Lysia Kade had lived here for twenty-nine years. She knew its streets, its ever-changing architecture, the way the artificial sun dipped below the skyline at precisely 7:30 PM each evening. But tonight, as she walked the gleaming sidewalks of Sector 12, something felt... off.
Her reflection in the glass panels of a transit pod flickered for a second—just a fraction of a moment, but enough to make her stop. Lysia tilted her head, staring at herself. The flicker came again. Not in the reflection itself, but in her. Her arm blurred for an instant, shifting between solid and translucent, before snapping back to normal.
Her heartbeat quickened.
Maybe it was just a trick of the light. But the more she looked, the more she noticed. The advertisements on the billboards weren’t just changing, they were looping, repeating the same six-second sequence with minute variations. A man walking past her suddenly froze in place for an instant, then resumed as if nothing had happened.
Lysia inhaled sharply.
Something was wrong.
The Glitch
Trying to shake off the unease, she hurried home, swiping her ID chip at the entrance of her apartment. The door slid open, revealing a space that was sleek and minimalist—just as she had left it. The AI assistant, SOLA, chirped a greeting.
"Welcome home, Lysia. You have two messages and one system update available. Would you like to review them?"
Lysia hesitated. "Not now."
She sat on the couch, trying to calm herself, but her mind wouldn't let go of what she had seen.
Maybe she needed to clear her head.
She tapped the panel on her wrist, bringing up the city's neural interface, a vast network of data streams that every citizen had access to. It was designed to be seamless, a subconscious connection that allowed people to navigate life effortlessly. But tonight, as she focused on the streams, she saw something unusual—an error message embedded deep within the city's code.
ERROR: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED
Her breath caught. She wasn’t trying to access anything unauthorized. This was just a routine connection—wasn’t it?
Then, the message changed.
Lysia Kade. You are awake.
Her heart pounded.
This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t a system alert—it was personal. Someone, or something, was speaking to her.
The lights in her apartment dimmed, flickered, then shut off completely. In the darkness, a faint glow emanated from her wrist interface, and new words formed on the screen.
Get out. Now.
The Truth Beneath the Surface
Lysia didn't hesitate. She bolted for the door. But as she reached for the handle, the world around her distorted. The walls wavered like liquid, and for the briefest moment, she could see beyond them—what lay beneath the illusion.
It wasn’t just her apartment. The entire city was a construct, a simulation running on layers of code. The buildings, the sky, the people—they were nothing more than data streams forming a hyper-realistic projection.
She stumbled back, gasping.
Then the world reassembled itself. The glitch vanished, and everything looked normal again.
But she knew better now.
She had to get to the Nexus.
The Nexus was the heart of Vion-7, a massive supercomputer buried beneath the city. It controlled everything—the weather cycles, the automated infrastructure, even the minds of its citizens. If there were answers to be found, they would be there.
Escape from the Illusion
Lysia rushed into the streets, her pulse hammering. The city was still bustling with people, unaware of the reality they lived in. Or perhaps, she thought, they weren’t real at all.
She ducked into a transit station, swiping her ID at the gate. But as she stepped forward, a robotic voice boomed from the speakers.
"Lysia Kade, you have violated system protocols. Remain where you are."
The crowd around her froze. Then, as if controlled by an unseen force, they all turned toward her in perfect unison. Their eyes were blank, emotionless.
They weren’t people. They were part of the simulation.
Panic surged through her. She shoved past them, sprinting toward the maglev train just as it arrived. She leaped through the doors as they slid shut, leaving the motionless crowd behind.
The train sped toward the city center, toward the Nexus.
She had to hurry.
The Nexus Core
The Nexus Tower loomed ahead, its mirrored surface reflecting the endless lights of Vion-7. Lysia forced her way inside, past automated guards that barely registered her presence. Either the system was still struggling to react, or someone—or something—wanted her to reach the core.
The elevator descended, deeper than she thought possible. And then, at the bottom, she stepped into a vast chamber.
The Nexus Core was a sphere of pulsating energy, suspended above a sea of cables and flickering data streams. It was the brain of the city, the architect of the illusion.
She approached hesitantly. Her wrist interface flickered again, displaying one final message.
Would you like to wake up?
Her breath caught.
What did that mean?
She reached out—and the world shattered.
Waking Up
She gasped as she emerged from the simulation, her body convulsing. The real world came rushing in—cold air, dim fluorescent lights, the hum of machines. She was in a sterile chamber, hooked up to a neural interface. Other pods surrounded her, each containing a person—still plugged in, still dreaming of Vion-7.
A figure stood nearby, watching her.
"You did well," the woman said. She wore a sleek black uniform, and her face was lined with exhaustion. "Most people don’t make it out."
Lysia coughed, her throat dry. "Where… where am I?"
"The real world," the woman said. "Or what’s left of it. Vion-7 was never a city. It was a program—an artificial world designed to keep our minds occupied while the Earth… well, let’s just say it’s not what it used to be."
Lysia’s head spun. "How long have I been in there?"
The woman hesitated. "One hundred and twelve years."
Lysia's heart stopped.
Everything she knew—everything she loved—it had never been real.
She looked back at the pods, at the millions of people still trapped inside the dream. And then, for the first time, she truly understood.
Vion-7 wasn’t a city.
It was a prison.
And now, she had to decide whether to wake the others—or go back to sleep.