Facing Fear | ✓ ONC 2023 Honorable Mention

3 | The Fearless

"Sign here, here, and there."

Mori's pen scratched across the paper. Her head ached like when she'd pulled all-nighters to study for exams. For the past two hours, Skye and another company employee had taken her through her legal rights and the agreement that she and her relations would not sue 6thSenS if things went wrong.

And from what she'd learned about Facing Fear, it'd be a miracle if nothing went wrong.

Mori blew on the paper to dry the ink, sealing the fact she'd signed her life away.

"Would you like for us to notify your parents?" Skye asked. "They'll need to agree to the terms of an NDA as you have."

"You mentioned a time discrepancy between the virtual world and this one." Mori tapped her manicured nails against the white table. "When you sent in subjects to test the ring, some returned in a matter of seconds even though they'd been instructed to stay in the game for set amounts of time. Hours. Days."

Skye nodded. "That is correct."

It's been years in the game then. Shiori could already have gotten herself killed by now. Mori expelled a long breath. "I love my parents, but we don't have the time for me to argue with them. Notify them after I've gone in, but wait a day. I might be back by then."

In answer, Skye's co-worker approached her seat with a device that looked alarmingly like a gun. "This will hurt a bit, but we have to install this chip on your neck. It will allow you access to the ring and cube by becoming part of your self-construct."

Mori hissed at the stab of pain in her neck behind her right ear, but the discomfort faded within a few minutes.

"You're very brave, Mori," Skye said while leading her to chamber where they'd hook her up to the game. She adjusted the angle of a chair with a lever on the side. "I hope you know how much we appreciate you agreeing to this."

"It's not bravery," Mori whispered. The headset visor lowered over her open eyes—an original, unmodified and unmonitored. FEAR rejected any new players with reconfigured headsets. "There are things in life that are unavoidable. The sun setting, falling asleep, dying. Some things can't be helped—you have to say goodnight."

Bravery didn't erase those fears. Mori knew that firsthand. Back when they were younger, before they moved to the United States, Shiori used to wake her up in the dead of night by crawling into her bedroll. The crickets chirped outside and Mori's outstretched hand brushed the mosquito netting surrounding her.

"Nee-chan, I'm scared," Shiori whispered, burying her face in Mori's neck. "I want my nightlight."

Mori could have repeated the words of her parents. The dark is nothing to be afraid of. You need to be braver, Shiori-chan. Instead, Mori rolled over and held her little sister's hand. "I'm here," she'd said. "Even though the night is here now too, the morning will come. Now say good night, Shiori-chan."

"Goodnight, Shiori-chan." Shiori had said with a giggle.

"Goodnight," Mori replied, and her sister had eventually fallen asleep holding her hand.

Shiori grew braver, bolder. But underneath the bravado, Mori knew her sister was still afraid of the dark. She couldn't kill Shiori's fears for her, but she could be there to hold her hand through it—to tell her little sister that the night was good in the dying light of the setting sun.

Mori settled into the chair and connected to the Facing Fear game. "I'm coming, Shiori," she said softly.

Virtual gamers called connection "diving" and Mori found she agreed. As the headset device hooked up to her brain and nervous system, a sensation like falling into a calm lake washed over her. But instead of being water all the way down, the world flipped and she found herself on the other side, completely dry.