Endzone: Simulated Apocalypse

The rules were simple.

The virtual reality game, Endzone, was essentially a battle-royale themed competition within an apocalyptic world. Whoever could withstand the conditions and become the final survivor would rise as the victor, and be able to claim the rewards.

However, that was it.

The hooded man did not give any more details other than the fact that it was an 'apocalyptic' world, leaving the participants to figure out the rest on their own. Any questions asked about this matter were left unanswered, and soon, the participants gave up on trying to find out — they would just discover it first-handedly once they entered the game.

The technology that the participants would be using were far more advanced and technologically superior to VR sets found elsewhere in the world. These special sets simulated the human body's five senses perfectly in-game, providing an immersive and realistic experience like no other.

But that left one question — an important one.

As the hooded man finished his explanation of the basic outline of the game, Cyanide spoke up.

"… How will our real bodies be supplemented while we are in-game?"

"Everything you do in-game will be reflected upon on your real body by the VR set," the hooded man replied. "You need not worry about food, water, or expelling waste. When you do so in game, your physical body will do the same with the help of the VR set."

'… Ho, interesting.' Cyanide thought in his head. This answer from the hooded man may seem like an awesome feature to have, but in reality, it is implying something far darker than that.

'Everything one does in game will be reflected upon on their real body by the VR set.' In other words, when one eats in-game, they will be fed in real life by the VR set, also replicating the taste of the item in-game. When one takes a piss in game, their real bodies will also do so — everything managed by the VR set and equipment.

But what if… they don't eat or drink in the game? What if they get injured in-game? What if… they die?

It was an apocalypse setting. Food and water was bound to be hard to come by, and dangers would be lurking all around — though the participants didn't know what exactly they'll be yet. If, for example, in-game, they are unable to find water for three days and end up dying of thirst… what of their real bodies?

Naturally, the VR set wouldn't feed them any water if they didn't find any in-game. Which means…

… Cyanide wasn't the only one who figured this out. Numerous other smart participants also did, but for the most part, everyone else just automatically assumed it was a video game and they couldn't actually die in one. They didn't even consider the possibility; they didn't bother thinking beyond the surface in terms of the hooded man's words.

Of course, the smart ones who realized this were also smart enough not to say anything out loud. Why? Because if they did, the other contestants who didn't realize it before would now realize their life is at stake and thus fight harder for survival in-game, which in turn meant harder competition for the smart ones.

Greed was one thing, but humans are able to push beyond limits when it came to protecting their own lives. That was why Cyanide and none of the others who had realized it as well said anything. They all wanted to win, and the competition had already started.

The hooded man surveyed the participants below for several seconds, awaiting more questions, then finally spread his arms and spoke once more.

"There are exactly nine hundred ninety-nine of you here, and the Game will last until there is only one player left. I hope you will not disappoint. Best of luck, players... survive."

With this, the hooded man spun around and walked away, sealing the participants' fates.

*****

After the man left, the swarm of masked workers from earlier flooded the room once more, two assigned to each participant. As a result, there were 2,997 people in the enormous room, but even then, there was still space to spare. Cyanide and the other contestants were all instructed to follow the workers in an organized manner, exiting through the only set of doors in the room. The two workers assigned to each participant walked with them, one in front and one behind. Participant 001 and the two workers assigned to him went first, then 002, and so on.

The corridor that the doors led into were wide enough to have multiple lanes of people pass through at the same time, but the workers did not do that and instead remained in a single line, causing the participants to line up in that same line as well while they walked.

Left turn, then right turn. Cyanide memorized all of these directions, just in case it may come in useful in the future — though the chances of that were unlikely.

After the right turn, however, they were met with an exceptionally long corridor that had to be nearly 100 meters in length. On either sides of it were doors spaced quite far from one another, each pair directly across from each other, along with one last door at the end of the corridor. Cyanide counted 13 pairs in total, making there a total of 27 doors.

The first 37 people were then led into the first room on the left, while the next 37 were led into the first room on the right. The next 37 in the line, Cyanide included, were led to the second room on the left, with the door shut behind them. The rest of the participants also were led into their respective rooms based on number, with 37 people in each room.

The room that Cyanide had been brought inside was extremely bright. But apart from that, there was one more detail — everything was white. The lights on the ceiling, the walls, the floor, the technological equipment, their own clothes — everything. The workers, however, wore black outfits and masks, which made them stand out.

Speaking of technological equipment, there were a total of 37 capsule-shaped chambers in the room, set up diagonally along the walls. Each one was covered by a transparent glass lid that matched the jagged coffin-like shape of the chambers, while the interiors were actually made of comfortable black leather unlike the rest of the room.

Each participant was instructed to enter one of these coffin-like things, and Cyanide was no exception. After some hesitation and mental debate, he slipped inside, pocket knife still hidden inside the sleeve of his new clothes. It felt like entering an escape pod on a rocket, in a way.

He was told to get comfortable, and so he did — physically, anyway. Mentally, he was still on-guard as always, the trained mindset of a professional assassin. He didn't know what was coming next, but the moment he felt his life was in danger, he would lash out with that pocket knife in his sleeve.

But then-

"…!"

Five metal locks suddenly shot out of the leather, seemingly out of nowhere. Two locked his wrists in place, two locked his ankles, and the final one locked his neck. Loose enough not to choke, but tight enough to disallow any movement.

'Tch… I didn't expect this…'

In the end, no matter how skilled he may be, Cyanide was still just a human. He could not detect hidden mechanisms like this. But after several seconds, he realized this was not meant to hurt him — it was just to secure his body in place for when his consciousness left this world and entered the game, to prevent him from injuring himself.

The glass screen then slid down from above to lock him inside, but there was nothing Cyanide could do at this point. He slid the pocket knife down to his hand and attempted to cut the metal locks, but it was futile. Eventually, he just gave up and accepted his fate to enter this new, video game world.

After all, this was what he had wanted in the first place. There was no point resisting anyway — he didn't even know why he kept that pocket knife. Professional assassin instincts would be the best explanation.

All the other participants were laid into these chambers the same way, and after several minutes, the process was complete. Within Cyanide's chamber and everyone else's, the voice of the hooded man could be heard once again, coming from seemingly all around.

"All participants, prepare yourselves. The Game… will now begin."

Cyanide felt his eyelids get heavy, but there were no chemicals affecting him. No… this was the chamber he was in directly connecting with his brain, his consciousness. Resisting was useless, as his mind was telling him to just accept it.

Slowly, his vision faded away, and darkness consumed him.

But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, a line of glitched-out, scrambled text appeared in the darkness.

[EN̶̴̶D͞Z͜OǸ̸͢E͢͞ ̛I̸̢S͞ ͡N͟O͢T ̵͢A̵̕ ̸Ģ̸A̷ME͡͠͝.̛ ]

'What…?' Cyanide thought, trying to make sense of the words.

[E͡͏̢N̴̴͞D̵̵ZO͞͡NE̢̛ ̧IS̷͜ N͞O͡T̷͜ ̸͠͝À̵ ̸̀ŚÌ̛͟M͡UL̷̵ĄTĮO̵͠N͟͏.͝ ]

'… What is going on…?'

[EN͏̀D̶̨͞Z̀̀ON̷͢E̢ ̧͡I̡S-͏̨͜]̵͜ ]

[S͟͠Ú̧R̷͢͞VÌ̵͠VA̡͜L͏̴.͡]

And everything went black.