Exactly one week later, the highly classified shipment finally arrived at the Round Table Studio HQ.
The entire team crowded into the Programming wing, which was situated right beside the Design department. A palpable buzz of curiosity and nervous excitement filled the room. They were all desperate to see what the infamous Accord VR tech actually looked like, how it functioned, and most importantly, how it was going to completely alter their game development pipeline.
Resting in the center of the room were three massive, heavy-duty crates.
"Three units total," Kasavin noted, checking his datapad. "Two designated for the Programming department, and one for Design."
The heavy crates were unlatched and stripped away, revealing the VR capsules beneath. They did not look like consumer-friendly gaming consoles. Because they were early-stage prototypes meant for developer use, there was absolutely no aesthetic fluff or sleek design. They were brutal, practical, and highly utilitarian; exposed wires, thick metallic plating, and heavy industrial latches designed purely to ensure all bio-functions ran smoothly without failure.
Logan Kim let out a booming laugh, enthusiastically smacking Raja on the back. "Well done, man! Ahahahaha! You actually got them!"
Raja, who barely even flinched at the heavy slap, just calmly adjusted his tie. "I merely expedited the inevitable, Logan."
Dorian pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his golden eyes wide with the same burning curiosity as the rest of his team. "Alright, let's power this thing up. I want to see how this actually works."
Bem was already hovering over one of the pods, a thick, holographic technical manual projected from his wristband. He squinted at the complex diagrams.
"Hmmm... okay, so there is this fluid injection port that goes here..." Bem muttered, pointing to a valve near the headrest. "Oh, and another one here... Wait, does it take two full doses? Oh, no, half a dose in each port. Got it."
As Bem continued to cautiously tinker around the exterior of the capsule, one of the female programmers excitedly stepped forward. She tapped a command on the master remote.
HSSSSS.
The heavy, airtight lid of the capsule popped and slowly hissed open on hydraulic hinges. Instantly, the sharp, sterile smell of brand-new manufacturing alloy and medical-grade disinfectant wafted out into the room.
Lin Liseli wrinkled her nose, waving a hand in front of her face. "Well, I guess we definitely know it's clean."
Logan walked over to a secure, temperature-controlled briefcase that had been shipped alongside the pods. He clicked the locks and popped it open. Nestled securely in dense foam were several vials of a viscous, glowing liquid. It was a deep, mesmerizing blue, laced with swirling, ethereal traces of gold.
Ross Dalle leaned over, his deep voice rumbling. "What exactly does that fluid do?"
"According to the specs," Logan explained, carefully lifting one of the vials, "it's a specialized conductive neural-fluid. It safely puts the player's physical body into a state of deep, regulated stasis while simultaneously deriving the brain's sensory functions and linking them directly to the capsule's processing engine."
Kasavin frowned slightly, doing the mental math. "There are only a dozen vials in that case. So we only have a very limited amount."
"Do not worry about the supply," Raja interjected smoothly from the back. "We can procure more through my channels whenever needed. These specific compounds have a strict expiration date anyway, so there was no point in stockpiling them. Just talk to me when you need a fresh batch."
Bem and Logan both gave the Qerrian an appreciative thumbs-up.
Logan then aggressively cracked his knuckles, a terrifyingly eager grin spreading across his face. He reached for a heavy hydro-spanner on a nearby workbench. "Alright, let's take this first one completely apart and see what makes it tick."
"Wait, wait, wait!" Bem panicked, throwing his hands over the capsule to protect it from the programmer. "Are we not going to at least test it first?! The manual says there is a basic local hub we can create to test the neural feedback and the physical 'feel' of the integration!"
Dorian laughed, stepping between the two department heads before Logan could start dismantling millions of credits worth of tech. "Bem is right. Let's test it first. Power up two of these pods."
Dorian looked over at the Art Director. "Liseli, connect that rough 3D draft environment your team scrapped last week. The grassy one we were playing around with."
"You got it, Boss," Liseli saluted playfully. "Gawain! Send the Sky test-environment files over to the Programming department's main server!"
"Transferring files immediately, Head Liseli," Gawain's voice chimed smoothly through the room's speakers.
While the programming and design teams swarmed the capsules, carefully following the manual to hook up the diagnostic cables and initialize the fluid ports, Bem and Logan stood side-by-side. They were staring down at the exposed neural-link engine with an intensity that bordered on predatory.
Logan placed a reassuring hand on Bem's shoulder. "Don't worry, man," Logan whispered, a wicked glint in his eye. "Give us a week. We'll understand this tech well enough that we won't ever have to follow their stupid manual again."
Bem grinned. "Oh, I'm counting on it."
Once the humming of the capsules stabilized and the blue-and-gold fluid was successfully primed in the injection lines, the room fell into an expectant, nervous silence. The machines were ready.
Dorian crossed his arms, looking at the open, bed-like interior of the prototype pod. He then turned to look at the crowd of developers. He brought up the one terrifying question they were all thinking.
"So," Dorian asked, a challenging smile on his face. "Who's gonna try it on?"
Ross Dalle took one look at the narrow, heavily contoured interior of the capsule and immediately raised his hands in a gesture of absolute resignation.
"Not me," the Zynar rumbled, his deep voice echoing in the room. "That interior chassis is molded specifically for standard humanoid figures. My arms wouldn't even fit past the elbow rests."
The rest of the team exchanged highly nervous glances. No one else was exactly jumping at the opportunity. Despite the excitement of new hardware, this was completely unknown, highly invasive neural technology. It was genuinely terrifying.
One of the design employees noticed a small, engraved barcode on the side of the capsule's primary console. "Gawain, can you scan this?"
Gawain's holographic knight form materialized next to the capsule. A beam of blue light swept over the barcode. "Scan complete. I have located an encrypted instructional video manual. Shall I play it?"
"Play it," Dorian ordered, crossing his arms.
A flat, 2D holographic screen popped into the air. A sterile, brightly lit laboratory appeared, featuring a human technician wearing a pristine white lab coat.
"Hello!" the technician smiled, exuding artificial corporate warmth. "We at the Ministry of Technology are incredibly proud to introduce you to–"
"Gawain, skip all the PR pretext," Dorian interrupted with a sigh. "Fast forward straight to the user guide."
The video glitched and skipped forward rapidly before playing at normal speed again.
"...all you need to do is pour exactly one milliliter of the stasis fluid into each of these two upper compartments," the technician instructed, pointing to the valves. "Initialize the capsule's primary power and allow the fluid to vaporize into a breathable gas for a couple of seconds. Once the chamber is primed, you can open the hatch and step inside."
The technician laid back into the pod. "Make sure to get comfortable, haha! When you are ready, put on the full neural-helm, and make sure the rebreather mask fits snugly over your face so the stasis gas won't leak out. Once you are all set, simply press the ignition button on your right armrest."
The heavy metal hatch hissed closed over the technician. Muffled through the glass, the technician offered a final wink. "And you will be transported into a new world!"
The video cut to black.
"Is it... really that easy?" one of the junior programmers asked, swallowing hard.
"I don't know," another employee muttered, scrolling frantically through a datapad. "There is a massive section of severe medical warnings in the actual text manual."
The tension in the room grew incredibly heavy. If they had to be completely honest, the idea of locking themselves inside a metal coffin and inhaling a paralyzing gas was downright scary.
Logan Kim stared at the open pod for a long moment. He let out a deep, steadying breath and aggressively adjusted his glasses.
"Alright," Logan declared, stepping forward. "I'm in."
Lin Liseli immediately stepped up right beside him. "Me too."
Dorian frowned, looking between his two department heads. "Are you both entirely sure about this?"
"Yes," Logan nodded firmly. "I am the Head of Programming. If we are going to build an engine around this thing, I need to feel exactly what this new breakthrough actually is."
"And I am going to create the environments," Liseli added, her eyes full of artistic determination.
"Liseli, you can try it on the next turn," Dorian suggested gently, not wanting both of his core team members risking themselves at the exact same time.
"No," Liseli insisted, shaking her head. "It is the grassy environment I sculpted. I know exactly how every single blade of grass, every cloud, and every breeze was intended to feel. I need to know if the machine translates it correctly."
Dorian looked at her unwavering expression and let out a soft sigh. "Alright. Let's do this. But carefully."
Slowly, the team began the initialization process. Bem carefully measured out the glowing blue-and-gold fluid, injecting it into the two active capsules. A low hum vibrated through the floorboards as the liquid instantly vaporized.
Logan and Liseli climbed inside their respective capsules. They shifted around against the padding, securing the heavy neural-helms over their heads and strapping the rebreather masks tightly over their mouths and noses.
They looked at each other across the room, offered a synchronized thumbs-up, and pressed the buttons on their armrests.
With a heavy, pressurized HSSSSS, both hatches locked shut.
The entire room held its breath. Dorian stood frozen, his hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides. Staring at the glowing Accord insignias stamped on the side of the metal pods, a sudden, cold flash of panic gripped his chest. It was Accord technology. The last time he had interacted with Accord tech, an Identifier had melted his stomach and threatened his family. He watched their vitals on the external monitors with absolute, terrified focus.
Inside the capsules, the world went dark.
And then, Logan and Liseli opened their eyes.
They were standing in the middle of a sprawling, sunlit grassy plain beneath a massive, fluffy digital cloud. Because it was a localized, isolated test, they were not connected to the same server; they were each standing completely alone in their own identical worlds.
It was breathtaking. The sky was painfully blue, and the grass swayed gently around their ankles.
But as they took their first steps, they both immediately felt it. It was as if they had been transported into another world, but they could still faintly feel the heavy padding of the capsule pressing against their real backs.
When they reached down to touch the virtual grass, their digital fingers brushed against the blades, but the sensation was numb, hollow, and distinctly unrealistic.
Several agonizing minutes ticked by. The low, vibrating hum of the capsules finally began to wind down, and the glowing blue fluid retracted from the vaporization lines.
HSSSSS.
The heavy metal latch on Logan's pod disengaged first. The hatch slowly lifted open, venting a cloud of white, dissipated stasis gas. Logan sat up groggily. He pulled the heavy neural-helm off his head and ripped the rebreather mask from his face, taking a deep, desperate gulp of real air. He held his hands up in front of his face, flexing his fingers and staring at them as if trying to make sure they were actually his.
Kasavin stepped forward immediately. "How does it feel?"
"Honestly?" Logan groaned, rubbing his temples. "Nauseating. The baseline concept is definitely there. The visual, audio, and movement projections are top-notch, it's like you're really standing in a field. But the touch feeling and the environmental feedback... it still feels incredibly synthetic. It's like wearing thick rubber gloves while trying to read braille."
Bem leaned over the console, his eyes darting across the diagnostic readouts. "How are the raw mechanics? The input translation?"
"It is literally exactly like real life," Logan answered, climbing out of the pod and stretching his stiff back. "There are no shortcuts, no button mapping. If you want to walk, your brain has to send the exact signals for walking. This is definitely still a very raw prototype."
Just then, a second HSSSSS echoed through the room. Liseli's hatch popped open.
She pushed the helm off her multi-colored hair, looking deeply disoriented. "It's so weird..." she murmured.
Ross Dalle stepped closer, his deep voice a gentle rumble. "How does it feel for you, Lin?"
"Weird," Liseli repeated, blinking against the harsh studio lights. "I feel like the texture translation can be much more synchronized. I don't know much about the technical stuff, but from an art perspective, if the engine could overlap several texture parameters at once, the physical feeling would be a lot more seamless."
Dorian smiled, relieved that his Art Director was already thinking about design improvements. He stepped up to the edge of the pod and offered her a hand. "Come on, let's get you out of there."
"Thanks, Arty," Liseli smiled. She took his hand and swung her legs over the edge of the capsule.
But the absolute second her boots touched the polished hardwood floor, her legs completely buckled. They folded under her like jelly.
"Whoa!" the team gasped in unison, surging forward in alarm.
Dorian's reflexes kicked in instantly. He caught Liseli firmly by the arms before she could hit the floor, taking her entire weight.
"Are you okay?!" Dorian asked, his heart instantly hammering in his chest.
Liseli looked down at her legs, her eyes widening in genuine confusion and fear. "I... my feet... they feel completely numb. Like they aren't even there."
Dorian's head snapped up, his golden eyes flashing with sudden, protective fury. "Get a chair! Now!"
One of the junior developers frantically grabbed a nearby hover-chair and shoved it over. Dorian gently, carefully lowered Liseli into the seat.
Ross Dalle immediately dropped to his knees. Using his massive, three-jointed hands, the Zynar began to firmly massage her calves and feet, trying to stimulate the blood flow. "Do you feel this, Lin?"
Liseli swallowed hard, looking pale. She nodded slowly. "Faintly."
Logan, his own face draining of color, knelt down right beside the chair. "Liseli, try to move your toes. Can you move them?"
Liseli closed her eyes, her face scrunching up in intense, painful concentration. The entire room fell dead silent, every single developer staring at her feet. After a few agonizing seconds, her toes twitched and moved just a fraction of an inch.
Liseli opened her eyes, panting slightly as if she had just run a marathon. "I... I have to really focus on it. The connection from my brain just feels blocked."
It was extreme neural-motor dissociation. The Accord's prototype technology had forcefully hijacked her central nervous system, and it was failing to cleanly give control back to her physical body.
Dorian stood up, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together.
"Gawain!" Dorian barked, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Ready the Millennium Falcon! Full medical bay prep!"
"Yes, sir. Pre-flight sequence initiated," Gawain responded instantly.
Kasavin stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Logan's shoulder. "Logan, you go with them. You need to get checked by the medical compadres as well, even if you feel fine right now. We take no chances."
Logan nodded vigorously, looking terrified for his friend. "Yeah. Yeah, absolutely."
In the corner of the room, Raja Farzir had already stepped away from the crowd. His blue tendrils were completely rigid as he typed furiously on his datapad, immediately initiating a high-priority comm-link to the Ministry of Technology liaison.
"Let's move!" Dorian commanded, helping push the hover-chair toward the exit.
…
The Millennium Falcon tore out of Friton's atmosphere, its sub-light thrusters burning a brilliant, furious blue. Within seconds, the ship breached the exosphere and violently punched into hyperdrive, charting a direct, maximum-speed course for Athoapra, the nearest system equipped with high-end Gunnossian medical facilities.
Back in the ship's primary hold, the atmosphere was incredibly tense.
Liseli was laying flat on one of the padded medical cots, her boots removed. Bem Lendu and Ross Dalle had stayed behind to manage the panicked studio, leaving Kasavin and Logan to tend to the Art Director. Logan was currently hovering over her feet, gently pressing his thumb against her arch to test her motor reflexes.
"I can feel that," Liseli offered, managing a weak, reassuring smile. She wiggled her toes slightly. "See? It is definitely getting better, guys. I really think I just need a little bit of rest to let the stasis gas wear off completely."
Kasavin, who was standing beside the cot monitoring a portable diagnostic scanner, pushed his glasses up his nose.
"Nonsense," Kasavin stated firmly, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. "We are not leaving a neural block to chance. We are doing a full, comprehensive medical check-up the absolute second we land on Athoapra."
Logan dropped his hands from her feet. He took a heavy step back and rubbed his face in sheer, overwhelming frustration.
"I am an absolute idiot," Logan sighed, his voice thick with guilt. "I got too excited. I should have waited. Or at the very least, I should have insisted we have a certified doctor or a medical Compadre on standby before we locked ourselves in those metal coffins."
Kasavin looked up from the scanner. He met Logan's panicked eyes with a look of grounded calm.
"There is no time to put the blame on anyone, Logan," Kasavin said evenly, his voice acting as an anchor for the frantic programmer. "We all agreed to test it. This is our collective negligence. Let us just handle the cards that were dealt to us, and we move forward from there."
Logan let out a shaky breath, but he nodded, accepting the pragmatic wisdom of the Production Head. He went back to gently massaging Liseli's calves, trying to keep her circulation active.
Kasavin then slowly turned his head, looking past the medical cot and straight down the narrow corridor leading into the open cockpit.
Dorian was sitting in the pilot's seat, his hands locked onto the primary yoke. Because the cockpit faced out into the swirling, blue vortex of hyperspace, Kasavin could not see the teenager's face.
But Kasavin did not need to see his face to know exactly what his boss was feeling.
Dorian's posture was completely, terrifyingly rigid. His shoulders were locked tight, and his knuckles were pale white from gripping the controls so hard.
Kasavin swallowed hard, sensing that Arthur was super on edge. The Accord had provided this technology. They had shipped these unrefined prototypes directly to their doorstep without proper medical failsafes. And Kasavin felt that if Liseli suffered any permanent nerve damage from that machine, Arthur was going to tear the Ministry of Technology apart, by any means necessary.