The air around him when Lachlan awoke was not unlike the air he had known all his life. His olfactory sense was one of the only things left to him in the world - along with the constant tearing pain in all of his bones, which he had come to accept like an old friend - but he was left terribly wanting in a world with so little to smell. His only solace in this were the times the hospital staff had brought him flowers, or shared a meal in or nearby his room.
He then realized a new sensation was upon him, something he couldn't quite explain, though he knew within the dark world of his mind that he was in a much more spacious room than he was accustomed to. The feeling was foreign and drew beads of panic to it like a magnet, but Lachlan quickly dispelled the mood. If he was awake, he knew it was nearly time.
In the hospital, a digital replication of the real world fed into his mind to simulate rather crude eyesight. The technology had improved throughout the years, and he found more detail in the world around him as the feed's resolution increased, but he was told to expect something entirely beyond in the Echo Machine. To say he was excited was an understatement.
A woman was speaking, and one of Lachlan's attendants typed it into a console near his bed. His brain's acoustic sensors registered the words.
is there any other last minute questions before we begin -- if not we can all go ahead and hook ourselves up to the machine and select our backpacks -- i'm sure poor chuck is getting awfully bored
Lachlan did not reply with any questions, simply prompting a large smiling-faced symbol to appear on his monitor, followed by a thumbs-up. Shortly after, the scent of polymer entered his nose as what he could only assume to be a helmet was placed on his head, and his mind erupted with a million colours.
The game seized Lachlan's neurological system in a vice, rearranging the signals in his brain with more force than he ever felt before. It tapped into areas he had never used, fleeting sensations dancing in his mouth, on his skin, in his temples. He fought it, at first, slowing the pattern's progress, nearly stopping it in some areas, but as new feeling filled his body, erasing his pain, filling him with strength, he let go. He began fading out of the world, and fading into the machine. Blurry images grew in front of his mind, and he could hear a sound, so close it was almost inside of him. It was laughter, he realized as his lungs heaved. He was laughing.
Lachlan immediately stopped all the muscles in his body, cautiously reaching within himself with his mind. The laughter ceased, but his smile he could not rid himself of. Slowly he moved his arms, his legs, moving his fingers and toes, simple movements that brought endless bliss.
He looked down, realizing his body was rather ephemeral. He had never known what he looked like, but he had read many stories, and he solidified an image in his mind, one he would use as his own avatar. It was a simple image, a tall man, with brown hair and bright blue eyes, well-muscled and light-skinned with simple attire and a large green cloak thrown in for romantic effect. Again, Lachlan examined himself, confirming the change. He flexed his arms, feeling the strength, throwing them in the air. Then, he roared, a deep voice echoing across the void, raw and powerful.
For the first time, Lachlan breathed with his own lungs. He sucked the air in deeply, blowing it out in another hearty chuckle. The images dancing in front of him became clear, now, as he practiced adjusting his eyes to focus on the objects around him. Several other figures, like the men and women from his stories, stood around him, and between them all were several bright bags.
The backpacks. Now, he knew the game had begun. There would be plenty of time for play in the next twelve months.
He launched forward on his new legs, wrapping a strong hand around the first bag that caught his eye: a bright color, the orange backpack, standing out from any others. Its symbols spoke of travel, a world he could now explore. A world wherein he could be someone. A world he could rule.