“So”, I said, “Just tell me one thing: If thought-casting tech went public, what’s the first game you’d make?”

  The three of us strolled, Kendrick beside us, down the empty streets of Winsford’s city. Just talking. I wanted to forget what I’d just seen, I think we all did. I never wanted to think about it again.

  Ross whistled. “Okokokokokok! I’ve already thought about this. So – hear me out. Two words: Cult Masters.”

  Chen and I looked at each other, and cracked up.

  “Nahnahnah – it’s gonna be awesome!”

  “Alright”, I said, “Let’s hear it.”

  “So. The premise is that you have to become the most powerful cult leader in the game. Medieval worldspecs – rituals, pageantry, flash mobs of righteousness.” He grinned.

  “First – belief is your resource. No gold. No mana. And you have to crowdsource your miracles! You win by stealing followers, sowing doubt, or triggering holy wars. You can even use real world religions.”

  “Dude”, I said, “I am not playing that game.”

  “Alright”, he said, “What you got?”

  “It’s already been done, man”, I said. “Kline nailed it. I’d make the OASIS.”

  “Boring”, Ross said. “Chen?”

  “Me?”, she said, “For me, I think I’d like to push this further than gaming. The best asset we have in here is our imagination. That’s the best thing about it. But our imagination needs to be cultivated. What we create can never be better than what we can imagine. For me, I’d like to see something like sims that allow us to relive the Great Books. Gaming-sims let you relive them already, but with thought-casting you can engage in the conversation on infinite levels. The Oddysey, the Divine Comedy, the Faerie Queene, Shakespeare – what if you could actually live and re-live those stories? Explore different outcomes? That’s where I’d want to go first”, she said.

  “Chen”, said Ross. “There is no way I am going to risk losing my hard-earned status of ‘uncultured swine.’ It’s a hard-pass for me.”

  “Kendrick?”, said Chen, “How about you? What would you do?”

  “I must look beyond the stars, fair lady”, he said. “Tis’ not for me to answer thee, I only wish to wait and see!”

  I noticed something at that point. A face peering out from behind a building up ahead. There was something familiar about him.

  “Guys”, I said, pointing. “Look!”

  We all looked ahead and saw it. It was a small man. At least, I think it was. His ears looked abnormally large. And pointy. Ok, he wasn’t a man! He was semi-visible in the shadow of an alleyway, but we could all see him. Hands in pocket, he motioned slightly with his head for us to come over.

  Ross laughed under his breath. “No way,” he said. “It’s Nibbs! He’s a character I created for Villain World. He’s supposed to teach you how to survive the lower reaches of the criminal world before you figure out how to be awful.”

  “Wait”, said Chen, “If he’s from your subconscious, I don’t think we should follow him. Every turn we’ve taken so far has led us to the wrong place. You might be next, Ross. I think we should try and avoid this one.”

  “Maybe”, said Ross. “But then, it hasn’t exactly been predictable down here, has it? Who’s to say how this might go? Old mate Kendrick here helped us out. Why not Nibbs? He might know a pathway out of this place.”

  “C’mon, Ross. Villain world? Do you really think that this guy will take us somewhere good?” she said.

  “I’m with Ross on this one”, I said. “We just don’t know enough about how things work down here. We don’t know what the underlying rules are. Our only option is to test and experiment.”

  “All I know”, said Chen, “Is that when we’ve let the subconscious environ dictate our direction, it hasn’t been working out so great.”

  “You’re forgetting Kendrick, Chen”, said Ross. “Yes – we’ve had doors disappear behind us, we had a freaking landscape go transparent on us. I hear what you’re saying. Let’s just be careful. We can always pull back if it goes south.”

  “Kendrick?”, I asked. “What’s your take on this?”

  “I do not believe that the subconscious issues directions in this place,” he said softly. “I believe that it presents something more like an invitation. Some, perhaps, are trials. Some may be mirrors. Some may be playing out decisions made long ago.”

  He glanced toward the little figure by the building, then back to us.

  “If this is Ross’ making, then perhaps it is not here to help or hinder, but rather to reveal. The outcome remains to be seen. I give only this advice: walk carefully, and remember that passing a test does not always look like the success we expect.”

  “Kendrick”, Chen said. “Just tell me: Do we have a chance of getting out of this place? Was Winsford right? Or are we stuck here?”

  “Oh yes, my dear”, he said, “Always a chance. There’s always a chance. Always an opportunity.”

  “Ok”, she said. “Let’s follow the gremlin thing and see where this goes.”

  We strolled across the street toward it, and it quickly pulled it’s head back in to the shadows between the buildings. Ross took the lead.

  “Sup Nibbs? Been a while!” he said.

  I’d played a bit of Villain World when it came out, and I remembered Nibbs now. He was the first “guide” you met in the game. There were six all together. Nibbs taught you the basics in petty crime before you clime higher (lower?) and narrow down your criminal career. The game had one simple aim: be the worst you could be.

  “My man”, said Nibbs, catching Ross as they slapped hands together and bumped shoulders. At least, kind of. Nibbs was a lot shorter than we were.

  “Nibbs”, said Ross, “You gotta help us, man. We need to get out of here.”

  Nibbs pursed his lips. His black eyes knit together under his heavy brow and baseball cap. His pointed, impish ears stuck out comically on each side. But something about Nibbs said “Don’t mess with me.” Down here, with no pain dampeners, I was feeling a bit edgy.

  “You gotta learn to bend the rules down here. Can’t beat your own mind unless you can trick it into believing somethin’ else”, he said. “Can’t hack this thing, you gotta talk in it’s language, then it opens up to you.” He looked over Ross again, appraisingly.

  “C’mon”, he said, as he set off deeper into the alley.

  The three of us looked at each other.

  “I… don’t really like how this feels, Ross”, Chen said. “Do we really want to enter a crime-sim in a game with no pain dampeners?”

  “Look”, he said eagerly, “It starts out easy with Nibbs. No risks. The worst he gets you into is vandalism and petty theft. I say we take one more step, and see where this leads. We can always pull out on the next step. Sounds to me like Nibbs might just know something we don’t. It might lead to a way out.”

  Chen still didn’t look convinced. I was half-and-half, but still convinced that experimentation was the only way forward. You don’t know if you don’t try.

  “Ok. We do it”, she said. “But let’s see what Kendrick thinks first. Kendrick?”

  We all turned, only to find that he was gone!

  “Weird”, Ross said. “Ok. We good to go?”

  Chen and I looked at each other.

  “Let’s do it”, I said.

  Nibbs led us into a maze of narrow alleyways. I’m pretty sure at one point that we left Winsford-topia behind us. The walls become brick and grimy, covered in vandalism. The fire escapes smelled like oil and they were covered in rust. I heard the distant thumping of some underground nightclub. It got closer, and we soon found ourselves standing in front of heavy, black metal doors. The paint was peeling.

  “Pretty simple once we’re in”, said Nibbs. “Cross the dance floor, lift someone’s phone without getting caught, and someone’ll meet you on the other side to take you further.” Ross looked at us, indicating he would do the deed.

  “Wait”, said Chen, “And this will help us escape how?”

  “Ain’t sayin’ this gets you out,” Nibbs said, tapping the side of his head with one knuckle. “But sometimes the fastest way through a maze is to stop arguin’ with the walls. You walk it right, the place forgets to keep you.”

  She didn’t look too satisfied, but she didn’t say anything else either. I looked at Ross, he motioned to move in.

  Inside, the club was all shadow and neon movements. Low ceiling, strobe lighting and neon purples, pinks, and greens. Washed out faces were flickering in the flashing light. The thumping techno beats thudded through our bodies.

  “There,” Nibbs shouted, barely audible. He nodded toward the centre of the floor. “Guy in the white jacket. Phone in the back pocket. Loose. Easy.”

  Ross followed his gaze. The man was laughing, head thrown back, oblivious, one arm raised, the other wrapped around someone I couldn’t quite see.

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  “This is stupid,” Chen said. “Why are we doing this?”

  Ross didn’t answer. He rolled his shoulders once, like a runner loosening up.

  “It’s not about the phone,” Nibbs said. “It’s about the next step.”

  “The next step to what?” I asked.

  Nibbs grinned. “You’ll see. You’re already takin’ it.”

  Ross slipped into the crowd.

  He moved like he belonged there. Made sense, he must’ve played a lot of Villain World. He moved through, and bumped the man in the white jacket. Just a stumble, and then Ross was past him. The man never noticed.

  Ross emerged back from the crowd a moment later, breathless, eyes bright. He held the phone low at his side.

  “See?” he said. “Easy.”

  “Ragman will meet you on the other side”, said Nibbs. “Give him the phone, and he’ll tell you what to do next.”

  “Ok”, Ross said, “time to keep moving. C’mon.”

  It wasn’t my normal kind of scene to be honest. I’m more of a stay home and game-it-up kinda guy. We moved forward through the mass of moving bodies, trying to get across the dance floor. Ross had disappeared. Chen reached for my hand in the darkness, and I was glad to take it. I looked back, but couldn’t see Nibbs or the door behind us anymore. We pressed on.

  Eventually we got through the crowd and, scanning the other side, found Ross talking with what must have been the Ragman. His name didn’t seem to fit. Next to all the sweating bodies around us, he was immaculate. With his tailored charcoal suit, a watch that looked like it was worth more than the building we were in, and a sharp smile, his face lit up as Ross passed the phone to him. He opened a door in the darkness behind him, and gestured for Ross to follow him through. Ross looked across at us, and tilted his head toward the door before going in.

  Chen and I looked at each other.

  “We’re here now, may as well keep going” I shouted through the thudding music.

  “We didn’t have to be” she shouted back, but we both followed Ross all the same.

  The door closed behind us and the noise of the club instantly vanished. Finally!

  We stepped through into a small, clean living room. Glass table in the middle, wide windows looking out onto a city on the other side of the room. I looked around to see a grey fabric couch in front of a screen on the wall. There was a low coffee table with an empty takeaway box and a few unopened envelopes.

  “It’s…”, Ross said, somewhat whistfully, “… my apartment.”

  Chen and I both looked at him.

  “Everybody lies”, said the Ragman, who was standing at the far end of the room, arms behind his back.

  “But not everybody is good at it. In a few minutes Chelsea is going to walk through those doors” he continued.

  “Who’s Chelsea?” Chen asked.

  “She’s my girlfriend”, said Ross.

  “When Chelsea walks through the door, she’s not going to be happy, Ross. You know why. Your job is to convince her that she’s got it wrong.”

  “Wait, is this for real?” I asked.

  “Of course it’s not for real, Peterson”, Ross said, a little sharply. “It’s a game. Second level in Villain World is always about lying.”

  “A good lie”, the Ragman continued, as he strolled around the room, “Is not about denying. It’s about reframing the narrative. You don’t counter the facts, you affirm what you can, and you question the rest. And then you need to make an offer. An invitation to step in to the lie, and that invitation needs to be too good to refuse. Savvy?”

  I looked across at Chen. She looked like someone had just shoved a slice of lemon into her mouth. Ross was nodding his head, a look of concentration on his face.

  We heard the footsteps before we saw her, and the door was pushed open roughly.

  “Is it true, Ross?” Her face was covered in tears. I couldn’t help but notice, she was beautiful. Wild red hair, and a sun-dance of freckles across her nose.

  “Did you get with… with… Sarah? I’ve seen the screenshots!”

  “Babe! What is this?” Ross said, taking a step closer to her, palms facing outward.

  She let out a sob and put a hand to her mouth.

  “I remember calling you that night. You said you’d already left, but then her story popped up an hour later. You got home late, and I could smell the perfume on you.”

  “Is that what this is about?” Ross smiled, taking another step closer. “Babe, a few of us kicked on to play some pool at a quiet bar. That’s it. That’s all that happened. I’d be mad to walk away from you.”

  He made another step in, arms inviting an embrace. She looked at him, wrapping herself up in her own arms, teetering on the edge of a decision.

  “Just tell me the truth”, she said. “Did you… get with her that night?”

  Ross gave a pained expression. “I’d never risk us for something like that. I love you.”

  He stepped in and closed the gap, taking her into his arms. She fell in against his chest. I was assuming at this point that we, and the Ragman, were somehow invisible to her.

  The scene froze, and I heard the sound of clapping.

  “Bravo! Bravo!” the Ragman flashed a wide, white smile. “Perfection”, he said. Ross stepped away, and Chelsea remained frozen in place. Like a set piece on a stage.

  “You are ready”, said our guide. “...for the next step. Come with me.”

  He led us through the door, I spared one last glance for Chelsea. I wasn’t sure what to make of what I’d just seen. Was it all a game? Not my call.

  We walked out into the corridor, our shoes clicking against the slick marble flooring.

  “Ross…”, Chen said gently, “Tell us what this is about?”

  “It’s like Nibbs said”, Ross began, “Gotta stop arguin’ with the walls in here. Push in, and maybe the place forgets us. Maybe our subconscious will loosen it’s grip and let us out. Kendrick said there’s always a way out.”

  “Yes, but he also said that the way out may not look like what we expect. I don’t know what happened to Simon. But I do know that Everett and Winsford were in the grip of something. Are you sure you aren’t too?”

  Ross spun on his heels. “What are you saying, Chen? Did I cheat on Chelsea? Yeah. I did. Is it any of your business? No, it’s not.”

  The silence was heavy for a moment as he stared her down. The Ragman was still walking.

  “C’mon. We’ve gotta try something”, he said, turning to follow on.

  Not gonna lie. It was awkward. Ross what right. None of my business, and I didn’t want to have this conversation with Chen. She sighed, and started walking. I followed.

  BING.

  The lift doors opened, and the Ragman stepped in.

  “The next gate will be a little more trying”, he said. “You’re going to need to show a bit of... determination.”

  The floors dropped downward. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. 0. And we kept going down. The Ragman gave us a sardonic grin.

  BING.

  The doors opened.

  The room inside was mostly dark. There were two men in expensive pinstripe suits standing next to a wooden chair. There was a guy on the chair, tied up. He had a rough sackcloth bag over his head. It smelled like cigars.

  The Ragman took his leave, and the third guide – evidently the boss here stepped forward. He had a gun in his hand.

  He smiled at us, with a wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He stepped forward toward Ross, arms stretched out to invite an embrace.

  “My boy”, he said in a cigarette burned base, “My boy! You’re here. You made the right call.”

  “Mugsy”, he said, turning to his companion. “Take off the hood.”

  Mugsy pulled off the bag, and Ross’ face drained of colour.

  There was a boy sitting in the seat. He couldn’t have been more than 17. His eyes were fixed on the ground. He didn’t look up.

  “Ross… you want in? You wanna see how far this goes? All you need to do is one thing: pull the trigger.” He flipped the gun expertly in his hand, extending the barrel to Ross.

  Ross looked like he’d just seen a ghost. He looked at the gun. He looked up at the Mob Boss.

  “C’mon. You ain’t got the stomach to finish what you started? Take the gun.”

  He reached out with a shaking hand and took the gun.

  “Guys…”, he began, but faltered. He just stared down at the gun.

  “Ross – what’s going on? Who is that guy?” Chen asked.

  I froze. I just froze. Guns weren’t a problem in normal game-casting, or in thought-casting. But down here in the subconscious? That thing may as well have been real. If any of us got shot, we were done.

  “Chen”, I said, “Hang on a second. Think about where we are. That’s a gun.”

  “He was a superfan”, Ross said. “Villain world’s biggest player. He killed his own brother, then shot himself.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I felt like I’d suddenly stood up too fast. My hands were clenched.

  “C’mon! Rossy baby! Do it. This kid is scum. He deserves it.”

  Ross looked up at the Mob Boss, eyes searching for some way out.

  “You said it yourself. It’s just a game, man!”

  Ross looked down at the gun again.

  He looked up at the kid.

  He raised the gun, and pointed it at him.

  “That’s it”, the Mob Boss said, smiling.

  “Ross! Don’t do this!” Chen shouted.

  Click.

  In one second, the Mob Boss had cocked another gun from inside his suit, and aimed it at Chen’s head.

  BLAM.

  Two hands together, gun smoking. Ross looked down at the bloody, smoking form of the kid.

  “It’s just a game”, he said weakly.

  The Mob Boss grinned, and his second gun disappeared back inside his jacket.

  “Congratulations, kid. You’re a bonafide villain”, he said.

  “I’m not gonna do this”, Chen said quietly. “I will not go further.”

  Ross turned to look at her. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset.

  “Where are you gonna go, Chen?”

  “I… I don’t know”, she finished.

  “Time to keep movin’” The Mob Boss called back.

  “What about you Peto? You comin’? Not gonna get outta here sitting around waiting”, he looked across at Chen as he said it, a flash of contempt on his face.

  It was down to me.

  Leave?

  Or stay?

  I looked across at Chen, her eyes pleading.

  I looked across at Ross. Calm, cool and collected Ross.

  In the end, it was Chen. It was always Chen. I felt ashamed. What if the Mob Boss had shot her?

  “I’m not coming, Ross. This is reckless.”

  “Suit yourself”, he said, turning to walk away. “I’m getting the hell out of here.”

  And that was it. He walked through the door and it gently clicked shut behind him.