The rain clacked hard against the windows of Harlow’s apartment. From beneath the covers, he stared at the drops racing to the bottom, his head already aching as he slowly got into the mindset of standing up and fixing breakfast. Early light showered the interior of his small apartment in a cold glow. His grey polished concrete floor was suddenly cold on his bare feet, causing an immediate jolt up his legs that climbed his spine, making his pupils refocus — now settling into his slightly more alert state. The kitchenette was a mere four steps from his bed, where he made quick work of putting on a brew and reheating leftover noodles with an egg.

  As he poured coffee, he thought about how much his life had changed over the span of four years. His surroundings were now opposite to where his life had been headed before the stress of tech-everything caught up to him and he burned out. He’d disconnected a good three and a half years ago, which was an intense and not entirely pain-free process in an age where everything was digitized and society assumed everyone was on the net. The simple process of finding work became practically impossible, as did run-of-the-mill things like checking account balances and proving one’s identity. Part of disconnecting consisted of removing implants, which also meant slicing out the chip that most governmental agencies used as the standard ID to facilitate quick check-ins. People like Harlow were the reason why humans even retained jobs at places like airports. But from how he was treated, you wouldn’t mistake it for gratitude.

  He turned on the news. Though the usuals passed like a revue, an unusual story caught his attention. He turned up the volume while sipping gently from his hot coffee.

  A worrying trend has government officials fighting over the budget, as more and more people in our elderly community with no close relatives are gifting their estates to charitable organizations. These sources have traditionally been a welcome addition to the federal budget, so this trend is putting a very real strain on government. Politicians are calling for an awareness campaign to educate senior citizens about the benefits of donating their inheritance to the state, to fund important projects. Recipient organizations, in contrast, are welcoming this new influx of resources, which they hope will help bolster their efforts to attack societal problems like global warming, wildlife collapse, and the massive contamination of water reserves.

  “Well… I guess we can expect laws to be passed very rapidly to combat this,” Harlow muttered, ever his cynical self.

  He slurped down breakfast, which left him nourished but unsatisfied, as he disliked both the taste of the food and that the steaming coffee nearly scalded the roof of his mouth. He didn’t have a lot of other choices though.

  His mood sank as he dressed, which in itself wasn’t a complicated process. His clothing choices were designed to match with every other item he owned: they were all shades of black. He decided on a pair of black denim utility motocross pants, matched with a black collarless shirt — a mix of cotton and some new fabric types that were hydrophobic and never wrinkled.

  Staring at himself in the mirror while brushing his teeth, he examined the bags under his eyes. Yep, still there, his trademark double ring of exhaustion — broken up by a scar from where his optical implant used to be — which, mixed with his exuberant personality, ensured that no one would take the time to ask how he was feeling. It was clearly written across his face.

  He threw on a black parka and checked that he had his blue light filter lensed glasses, a necessity for his weekend side hustle.

  On his way out, before putting on his headset to commence his morning commute, he noticed a note pinned to Rose’s door. It flickered and carried a remarkable symbol: the Department of Technology.

  Rose didn’t answer his knock. He wasn’t too worried, he’d never known his neighbor to be up before one o’clock in the afternoon. However, given her propensity to not leave her apartment for many days, he unpinned the note and slid it under her door. He’d make sure to ask her about it when he returned from his weekend workday at the arcade.

  The Tiny Temple was off to a slow start that weekend. The owner, Geoff, greeted Harlow from behind the cave-like counter, which was showered in red neon, with blatant apathy and desire to be anywhere else. He looked like he hadn’t caught much sleep last night, which wasn’t surprising since Geoff was one of many flannel-shirt-wearing-motherfuckers who spent every available moment in the biggest craze sweeping the world: neuroreality. Simply put, Geoff would get into a comfortable chair and slip a kind of ‘halo’ around his head, which would connect to an implant in his temple — Noesis. This allowed the system to feed his mind an alternate, dream-like reality, one in which he was in full control of his avatar self. The system was designed so that he could both feel and smell this alt reality, a gaming realm that had never been fully accessed until the invention of neuroreality. While the system was still fairly new, and many of the experiences were still tech demos, some of the more polished, full experiences were exactly what the mainstream were looking for: ways to blow off steam through sex, drugs, and violence. Every major adult content provider fell over itself to capture an audience and eke out every scrap of available loyalty and revenue, opening a whole new frontier for otakus and incels who would never again need to experience the outside world or other, real people.

  Kids trickled in, with the steady stream of regulars present and — annoying as ever — determining who was the best gamer amongst them, quizzing each other on random facts about obscure video games, whatever happened to certain game publishers a decade ago, and why this-or-that easter egg was implemented. The ‘golden age’ section was where hardcore nerds indulged their nostalgia for a bygone era, while the core of the Tiny Temple’s business was the numerous console setups, which were all connected to a hyperspeed line, allowing a latency as close to zero as technology could afford. People would rent stations and play whatever games they pleased, though most played the same game repeatedly, training to compete in the big city leagues. Such leagues required players to be at a certified location — partly to minimize potential technological advantages, but mainly so they could film these players for broadcasts.

  “Late night?” Harlow asked.

  “Man, you have no idea. Nights like that last night still make me wonder why the fuck you turned your back on the possibilities. Why would you do that if you could experience — and I mean fully experience — banging Yuuki Asuna, with no chance of her turning you down? I’m telling you, dude, you’re out of your freaking mind,” Geoff responded passionately.

  “I’m not into anime, you know this. Besides, when I get home from the retirement facility, the last thing on my mind is hooking up with a program…” Harlow said, slightly exasperated as he was about 90% sure this would bring on another of Geoff’s calls to arms, taking the noble quest upon himself to break Harlow out of his slump and once again open the wonderful world of intercourse to his depressed friend.

  But not this time.

  “Wow, no retort to get me out of the house this time?” Harlow asked.

  “Listen ‘Low, you know how I feel about your sad life. I get it, you’ve been through some shit. And if you’re open to let people back in and help you, I’ll be the first person you can count on, but I’m tired of trying bro,” Geoff said.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Thanks, I do appreciate you. I hope you know that.”

  “Whatever man, go wipe down the pads and screens so I don’t catch your vibe,” he said, trying to steer the conversation back to a place of emotionless banter and give Harlow something to do.

  ***

  By the end of his shift, the Tiny Temple was packed. Saturday evenings always meant the traditional board game crowd would clash for space with the competitive fighter game audience that was trying to prove their city league worth.

  “You gettin’ off soon then?” Jen asked.

  “Few more minutes, then my daily challenge comes to an end,” Harlow laughed, fading into her eyes. Jen was a regular in the fighting game community, though she’d taken solace from not being top-tier by shifting her focus, and had become a city league presenter.

  “Lucky you, we’re just about ready to get started. Got any plans for the rest of the evening? Can I entice you to stick around and keep me company while the matches are live?” Jen proposed.

  “Ah you know me, can’t wait to get out of this air and noise and the sea of people,” Harlow said.

  “Yeah, I get the feeling. Well, next time maybe. Would you mind getting me one last bottled water while you’re still on the clock?” Jen asked, taking Harlow’s response in stride. It had become a kind of weekly ritual.

  Harlow got Jen the water and quietly ended his shift, sneaking out through the crowd.

  He had feelings for Jen, but their lifestyles were wholly incompatible and he didn’t want to burden her bright, joyful spirit with his personal gloom and doom. But something about their weekly back-and-forth felt different this evening. Somehow it struck him harder than usual.

  With nothing to do other than go home and look forward to Sunday, when all he’d do was stay home and play old video games, he decided to visit Theresa. Her enthusiastic positivism was something he could go for right now. Maybe he could even talk with her about Jen. That would light up her face, for sure!

  The metro was practically empty. It was that special time of day when most people were either where they were going to spend their evening, or were still getting ready and wouldn’t be out and about for another hour or two. The few people on the metro were inconsequential, almost like ghosts. Harlow chuckled to himself, realizing that that’s probably how most people viewed him.

  He got to Sunshine Estates a little after seven o’clock. The staff had all gone home and the red emergency lighting was on, so the place again felt like a waking nightmare. With no one to greet him at the front desk, Harlow presented his badge to the scanner and beeped himself in.

  The halls were deserted, which was somehow reassuring. As he approached Theresa’s unit, he heard sounds from beyond her door. Theresa was muttering, as if in conversation. When she broke out laughing, Harlow quickly opened the door to see what the fuss was about. Both Harlow and Theresa were equally startled, Theresa by the sudden commotion and sight of Harlow, Harlow by the vivid hologram of the person he recognized from Theresa’s photos.

  “’Low! What a surprise! Nearly startled me to death but I’m glad to see you either way!” she said, ecstatically.

  Harlow felt confused, as if his eyes were deceiving him.

  “Well, don’t just stand there! Say ‘hi’ to Ed! You know Ed, don’t you?” Theresa asked.

  “H… Hi, it’s…nice to meet you?” Harlow said, unsure of what to expect.

  “Likewise young man,” the hologram of Ed responded, in a voice that really did sound like Ed might have.

  “Oh, I’m so glad the two of you have finally met! I’ve told Ed so much about you Harlow, how you’re my favorite of the staff here, and how you keep striking out with the girls. I wanted you two to meet earlier, but it always happened that Ed couldn’t make it whenever you were around,” Theresa explained.

  “That’s…a shame. Say, T… Would you mind kindly flicking off your hearing aid for a second, please? I actually have some business to discuss with your partner here…” Harlow asked, nicely, hoping not to spook the hologram or Theresa.

  “Sure, don’t be too harsh on him now Harlow! I know it’s past visiting hours, but still…” she gave him a look, then turned off her aid and shifted her attention to the show on TV, turning on the subtitles so she wouldn’t miss anything important.

  “What is this?” Harlow demanded, forcefully though calmly enough to avoid arousing suspicion from the now-deaf Theresa.

  “I am a companion AI, modeled to simulate the accurate responses, looks, and sounds of her deceased partner,” Ed responded, now in a more robotic tone.

  “That’s all well and good, but T isn’t on this program? It’s a super expensive program that only family members can sign off on, and I know for a fact that T is the last living person in her family…” Harlow stated.

  “I’m simply a trial run initiated by the Sunshine Estates Board of Directors. They are testing whether comfort levels alter greatly when residents are given access to a companion AI,” the hologram almost stammered.

  Harlow, clearly befuddled by the situation, sighed with a small sense of relief. “Well…I guess the board doesn’t keep staff informed, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone…” Harlow gestured to Theresa to rejoin the conversation. “I came to see if you needed any company, but I see now I can leave you in the capable service of Ed here. I’ve made sure he treats you right, made sure he knows you’re the brightest ray of sun in my life and that I’d be very pissed if he ever did anything to dull your shine,” Harlow joked.

  “Oh, stop it you devil! You’re entirely too sweet for this granny. Now go on, try and lead a life outside of work!” Theresa replied, thankful that someone cared enough to look out for her.

  Harlow left Theresa’s room and walked back to the entrance. Upon exiting the building, he passed a couple guys in suits who looked very official. He wasn’t supposed to be there anyway, so he didn’t question it. Probably a board meeting to discuss this companion AI test, he assumed.

  His apartment building was showered in blue twilight, reflected by the wet cobblestones. The sun must’ve been setting, but all he felt at the sight was cold. He barely recalled how sunsets used to shade everything in warming colors — a heating hug to brace for the cold night. Just before reaching his apartment door, he remembered the Department of Technology note and knocked on Rose’s door. Surprisingly, the door gave way with his first knock. Startled, and immediately needing to resist the urge to flee from all the bad things that might be waiting on the other side of the door, he cringed and peeked in.

  The neon lights were still bright. A slight mist enveloped Rose’s racks of seedlings and herbs. The tattoo parlor smell had given way to a more horticultural one, potting soil mixed with lavender, thyme, and a hint of mint. She must’ve gotten a fresh batch recently, to nurture until they could be sold.

  Turning his attention from the plants to where he expected Rose would be scowling at the dastardly neighbor who was slowly inching his way into her apartment, he trembled.

  The screens were trashed. Rose was lying in her dentistry chair.

  “Oh god oh god oh god please don’t be dead please don’t be dead,” he murmured to himself as he approached. As he removed her Noesis halo and put two fingers at the side of her neck to feel for a pulse, Rose jolted, awakened by the cold of his touch.

  “RAAAAARGH WHAT THE FUCK GET OFF ME!” she exclaimed, like a wild beast awakening from a dream, ready to attack anything and looking mildly dangerous.

  Harlow screamed and ducked fast, barely dodging Rose’s fists, thrashing from her violent awakening.

  “Calm down! It’s me! Chill the fuck out!” Harlow yelled, hoping to quickly stabilize the situation.

  Rose’s pupils were fully dilated, she was breathing heavily and felt like she had been through 15 cage fight rounds, but she finally came to her senses.

  “What the fuck Rose?!” Harlow asked.

  “You and me both shithead. What time is it?” Rose retorted, still panting.

  “It’s like, quarter to ten…” he responded.

  “Shit,” she replied.

  “That means I’ve lost like, six hours… I think.”