The lure of the new VR space was too strong to resist. My actual, physical room was feeling a bit too... real. Time to check out the digital digs.
"Sunday, open the gateway…. Let's take the new ride for a spin."
"Establishing connection to the Meteor Studio VR Mall now, Sir."
There was no disorienting flash, no stomach-lurching transition. The world around my desk and monitors simply dissolved, not into darkness, but into light. The hum of my computer fans was replaced by the gentle, ambient sound of... well, space.
I was standing on smooth, pale stonework, the air cool and fresh. The first thing I saw was the fountain. It was huge, a centerpiece of a small, perfectly manicured park. And in the middle of it wasn't some boring statue. It was a freaking meteor. A real, pockmarked, beautifully rendered chunk of space rock, wreathed in a slow, dancing aura of blue fire.
The words "METEOR STUDIO" orbited it in a slow, elegant dance. It was ridiculously cool.
"Welcome, Sir."
I looked up. Sunday hung in the air before me, not as an orb on a screen, but as a shimmering, softball-sized pink sphere of light, pulsing gently with a soft, internal energy.
"Sunday…. You outdid yourself. This is... wow." I did a slow turn, taking it all in. My eyes were drawn upward.
The ceiling was a vast dome of crystal-clear glass, and beyond it wasn't the smoggy sky of New San Antonio, but the infinite, diamond-dusted blackness of deep space. A familiar tapestry of constellations looked back at me.
"Is that...?" I asked, my voice a little quieter.
"Yes, Sir," Sunday replied, her voice seeming to emanate from the glowing sphere. "A one-to-one celestial map of the night sky as seen from your former residence on Earth. I thought it might provide a sense of familiarity."
A genuine wave of nostalgia hit me, surprisingly strong. I hadn't realized how much I missed a real night sky. "Thank you, Sunday. Seriously. It's perfect."
"Shall I provide an overview of the facilities?" Sunday's orb bobbed gently.
"Lead the way."
I followed her glowing form across the lush green grass of the central park. To the left, a building of sleek white metal and vast panels of glass rose up. It looked like a museum of the future. Above the entrance, in clean, bold type, it read: METEOR CREATIVE.
As we walked through the automatic doors, my breath caught a little. The space was massive, with a ceiling that soared several stories high. And hanging from that ceiling were banners. Not static pictures, but living, breathing advertisements.
On one, Iron Man's armor assembled itself in a cascade of gleaming nanites before striking an iconic pose. On another, Batman melted out of a shadowy Gotham alley, his eyes glowing white. Superman's banner showed him catching a passenger plane, the cape billowing impossibly. And right beside the DC giants, Naruto Uzumaki ran across the head of the Hachibi, a determined grin on his face.
"They're incredible," I murmured, watching the seamless loops.
"The dynamic banners are designed to update automatically with new key art as we release content," Sunday explained.
"The space is designed for community immersion. There are over fifty sound-proofed private reading pods along the walls, and the central atrium is designed for fan gatherings, author signings, and launch events."
I could already imagine it. People hanging out, arguing about who would win in a fight between Superman and Goku, or getting lost in a private pod reading the latest chapter of a manga. It was a geek paradise, made real.
We exited Meteor Creative and Sunday led me to the right, towards a more subdued but equally impressive structure labeled METEOR ENTERTAINMENT.
"The Music and Talent wing is currently in its foundational stage," Sunday stated as we approached. The exterior was sleek and modern, but the main doors were translucent, hinting at a dark, empty space within. The only signs of life were two massive, static banners on either side of the entrance: one featured my Sael VT logo, the other a stunning, moody shot of Millie Kyleish. A soft, glowing barrier shimmered over the doorway. "Access is restricted until we have a more robust catalog of audio-visual assets to display."
"Fair enough," I nodded. It made sense. No point in showing off an empty room.
Finally, we approached the central building, the largest of the three. Simply labeled METEOR STUDIO. The ground floor was all glass, and I could see inside clearly. One half was a chilling, beautifully crafted tribute to Silent Hill: First Fear, with screens showing gameplay, concept art, and a life-size, terrifyingly detailed model of the Lying Figure. The other half of the hall was dedicated to Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine, but it was shrouded in digital fog, a massive "CLASSIFIED: COMING SOON" logo hovering over it.
"Now for the executive levels," Sunday said, her orb leading me to a discreet elevator. It opened silently. We didn't go to the first floor, which was a bright, open-plan office space that looked both modern and comfortable—the kind of place I wouldn't mind working in.
We went to the top.
The doors opened onto a plush, quiet corridor. It was dead silent up here. Expensive. There were only seven doors, each made of a rich, dark wood. And on each door, in polished brass, was a name.
Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday.
I couldn't help but laugh. It was absolutely brilliant.
"The top floor is designated for the founding leadership of Meteor Studio," Sunday said, her orb hovering by the door labeled 'Sunday'. "A necessary fiction to maintain our operational security. It solidifies the public narrative of a diverse team of geniuses."
I walked over to the door labeled 'Saturday'. My door. Sael VT's door. "I love it. It's the perfect cover." I reached out and touched the cool brass nameplate.
"Nobody would ever believe it's all just one guy and his AI. They need to believe in a council of wizards…. This makes it real for them."
"Precisely, Sir. Misdirection is a key component of security."
"One can never be too careful these days," I said, echoing my earlier thought. I took one last look down the hall at the seven doors, a satisfied smile on my face. The digital fortress was complete. Now, it was time to open the gates.