Dave opened his eyes again. He looked up at the ceiling and found it... familiar.
Yeah, it was familiar. Very familiar.
He blinked a few times, slowly coming to his senses. He glanced toward the window, where the morning sunlight had just started to filter through the curtains.
He looked around and realized he was in his bedroom. Yeah—his bedroom, on his bed.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, he saw the time: 6 o'clock.
Dave sat up, his thoughts hazy. He tried to recall what had happened.
'That elf...?'
'What was her name again?'
He pressed a hand to his face, a strange pressure building in his forehead. Something was slipping.
'What's going on?', he thought. 'I feel like I went through something...'
He looked around the room again. Everything was in place. Normal.
"So, it was all a dream, huh?" he muttered to himself.
He sat there for a moment longer, then grabbed his phone to check the date.
It was already tomorrow.
He hadn't gone back in time. No loop. No reset.
Time had moved on, just like it was supposed to.
He was still thinking about it when his phone rang.
The screen lit up: Department Manager.
Dave frowned. Why would the manager call him this early? And on a holiday, no less?
Then it hit him.
"Oh... right. That meeting."
Remembering, he quickly accepted the call.
"Are you ready?" came the voice from the other side.
Dave nodded, even though they couldn't see him. "Yeah. I'm ready. I'll be there in an hour."
"Come as quickly as possible so you can prepare."
"Got it."
He ended the call and tossed the phone aside before hurrying toward the bathroom.
Behind his thoughts—quiet, unnoticed—fragments of memory began to unravel.
Pieces of something important.
Something that once belonged to him.
Fading now.
One by one.
Without him ever realizing.
----
Dave quickly readied himself, throwing on his usual office clothes—black blazer, white shirt, black pants, a violet tie, and his shoulder bag slung in place. He opened the door to his apartment and stepped out into the hallway.
He locked the door behind him and checked the lock once, then twice. Satisfied, he turned toward the elevator—only to see that it was currently at the 30th floor.
He squinted slightly. Strange. But whatever. Taking the stairs would be quicker anyway—he only lived on the fifth floor.
As he turned, his eyes drifted to the door next to his apartment. He paused.
Something tugged at him.
Something from that dream.
His brow furrowed. He stepped closer to the door and leaned in, taking a cautious sniff near the edge.
Nothing.
"There's no scent of gas," he murmured.
Still, the unease clung to him like static. He shook his head, trying to laugh it off—but it wasn't that kind of feeling. It was pressure. A weird, unplaceable kind of pressure he didn't know how to deal with.
He didn't know what was going on. All he knew was that dream had been weird. And something about it was unsettling.
He took the stairs down, skipping steps to make up time. In the parking lot, he made his way to where his car was parked. As he approached, the security guard stood up from his usual post and gave him a salute.
"Good morning, sir."
Dave smiled. "Morning, James. Still with the salutes, huh? Can't you just greet people like a normal human?"
James chuckled. "What can I say? Some folks in this building aren't too fond of casual greetings from the help."
Dave nodded, grinning. "Yeah, true. We've got a few of those."
Then he paused. "Hey, actually—James, can I ask you for a favor?"
James tilted his head, curious. "Of course. What's up?"
Dave gestured vaguely. "It's probably nothing, but… my neighbors—next door on the fifth floor—they're on vacation, right? And I just had this weird thought... What if they left their stove on? Like, gas leaking or something."
James immediately looked concerned. He knew the risks.
"Damn. That'd be serious if true," he muttered. Without hesitation, he grabbed the master key from the desk and took off at a jog toward the stairwell.
Dave watched him go, then made his way over to his car.
It wasn't anything fancy—just a decent five-seater, one of the newer models. He'd bought it two years ago, after finally getting rid of the old family car. That thing had been a maintenance nightmare—parts outdated, replacements stupidly expensive.
Selling it had been a relief.
Dave started the engine and FM radio like usual, and it didn't take long for a melodic woman's voice to flow through the car speakers.
"Hello, people! Good morning to all you early awakeners. I'm your host, Cassy, and you're listening to—"
The radio slipped into its usual morning rhythm. The weather forecast, some spots to visit with your partner, a few feel-good tracks… it was routine. Familiar.
But then something caught Dave's attention.
"Finally, the biggest news of today—a story I know you know, and everyone knows. Today… is the day! New World Online is officially launching! That's right, today's the launch day!"
The woman's voice was practically trembling with excitement.
"Man, it's been more than ten years—ten whole years—since the first ads dropped. And now? We can finally play the game we've all been waiting for. No—finally, we can dive into the world we've all been dreaming of. Ahhh, I'm so freaking happy!"
Dave's fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
His brow furrowed.
New World Online?
He hadn't expected to hear that. But then he relaxed a little. It wasn't that strange. VR games existed. Maybe this was just another hyped release. The DJ didn't say anything about full-dive tech or anything impossible. Probably just the usual VRMMO fluff.
Still…
As he drove deeper into the city, crossing the highroad into the busier streets, something started to bother him.
The billboards.
They were everywhere.
At first, nothing unusual—standard ads, food chains, services. But now?
The further in he went, the more they appeared. Massive, bright, high-res LED screens—and all of them showed the same thing.
The same game.
The same slogan.
"Let's play together. Let's build together. In this new world… let's live together."
Dave frowned.
He'd seen ads for games before. But this? This was excessive. Blanket coverage. Every corner, every crossroad, every overpass—saturated with that one game's imagery.
"It wasn't like this yesterday," he muttered. "Did the city have their entire ad team working overtime overnight?"
And that name.
New World Online.
It was… generic. Suspiciously so. And yet it triggered something in the back of his mind. A flicker. A pressure. Something he couldn't place.
'What is this game?'
He looked again at one of the larger billboards as he drove past. It showed a futuristic helmet—sleek, glossy, shaped more like a motorcycle helmet than the usual VR headsets. He didn't recognize the brand. Or the model.
And then, beneath it, in glowing text:
"Full-Dive VR Technology. 100% Sensory Integration."
Dave's throat went dry.
He stared ahead, thoughts clashing.
What? Full-dive? That tech doesn't exist. Not yet. That's sci-fi stuff.
And yet here it was—on every screen, from every speaker. As if the world had casually leapt Fifty years into the future overnight.
Dave blinked rapidly, trying to ground himself.
"…What is going on?"
"…Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?"
The dream. The elf. This game. That surreal "office." It all came back in flashes, like static popping in and out of a broken signal.
He shook his head.
None of this made sense.
He was awake, right? This was real, right?
But then why did it all feel so… wrong?
So familiar but unfamiliar at the same time?
Dave gripped the wheel tighter and pressed harder on the gas pedal.
Now wasn't the time to think about dreams or weird feelings. He had a meeting to get through—a real one. With real consequences. Daydreaming in the middle of a client presentation? Not happening.
He focused on the road, pushing all the other thoughts aside.