It was another Saturday night and I was doing what I did best, absolutely nothing. My apartment smelled like cold pizza and cheap deodorant, and my chair had learned the exact shape of my body at this point. The only light in the room came from the monitor, humming like a tired machine that hated its job almost as much as I did.
I scrolled through my library of games, clicking in and out of the same titles I'd already beaten or abandoned. Everything looked boring, repetitive, the same stuff over and over. I sighed and stretched a little, and I was just about to shut the thing off when a weird ad popped up on the corner of my screen.
Enter SinCity. 100% Real Experience. Not Responsible for Trauma.
I stared at it for a second, half expecting a jump scare or a scam link. The trailer was already playing in the tiny window with neon streets, gangs, explosions, and cops getting shot in alleyways. It actually looked... decent.
"Wait, when did Rockstar release a new game?" I muttered as I leaned closer. The graphics looked too good, the animations too smooth. The characters even blinked like real people.
Curiosity beat boredom, so I clicked the ad.
The screen expanded to full view, and a dark city skyline appeared, covered in red light and rain. A voice echoed, something deep and cinematic.
"Welcome to SinCity. Choose your destiny."
"Choose your destiny?" I chuckled under my breath. "What is this, Mortal Kombat?"
A selection menu slid in from the left, showing character portraits one by one.
I scrolled through them slowly, talking to myself like an idiot, pretending this was just another overhyped GTA clone trying too hard to sound dramatic.
"Nope, nope, another nope, a cop? Seriously? Double nope."
Then I stopped.
Antonio Voss.
The name alone sounded like it carried weight. His portrait showed a man in his late thirties, wearing a dark suit, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette as if the world existed just to keep him entertained.
The description popped up beside his face.
Antonio Voss – Crime Lord. Leader of the Voss Syndicate. Feared by enemies, respected by allies. Runs the city's underground trade and black market networks. Ruthless, intelligent, unpredictable.
I smirked. "Yeah, okay. You look like you've got your life figured out, Tony."
At the bottom of the screen, a warning blinked in red.
'Once selected, this choice is permanent. Proceed?'
I raised a brow. "That's new. What's the worst that could happen?"
I clicked Confirm.
The sound glitched for a second. The cursor froze, then my screen went black.
I waited.
"Come on," I whispered. "Don't tell me I just downloaded a virus."
Then a flash exploded across the monitor, blinding white light that swallowed the entire room. I flinched and threw a hand up, but it didn't help. The brightness got behind my eyelids, it was burning and twisting my sense of space until I couldn't tell up from down.
And then, nothing.
When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in my room anymore.
There was the smell of gunpowder and blood in the air, the sound of gunfire bouncing off marble walls. My vision spun for a moment before it finally focused. I was standing in what looked like a mall with shattered glass everywhere, bodies on the floor, and bullet holes in everything.
I looked down and froze.
A dark suit, leather gloves, and a gun in my hand.
Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me down behind an overturned counter. His voice was thick, heavy, Italian. "Don! Don, we gotta move!"
"What?"
"Cops are everywhere, boss! We need to get to the back!"
My brain was trying to process ten things at once. Who the hell was Don, why did my gun feel real, and why did I understand what was happening even though none of it made sense.
More bullets whistled past and smashed into the counter. The guy beside me leaned out, fired a few rounds, and yelled something I didn't catch. My ears were ringing from the sound.
I ducked lower, my heart was pounding, I was trying to breathe through the chaos but I couldn't get enough air. I didn't know what game this was, or if I was hallucinating, or if someone had drugged me through the Wi-Fi. I tried to move backward when a shot cracked through the air and hit me square in the forehead.
The world snapped out. Darkness. Then I saw a text, floating right in front of me.
> You Died.
Respawning...
Penalty: Memory Degradation 0.01%.
I gasped awake and jerked up, I was back in the same suit, same spot, but there was no blood, no hole in my head.
"Fuck!" The word came out of me as I stumbled back and grabbed my forehead. It still hurt. I could still feel it, that hot, splitting pain right before I died.
"What the hell is this..." I muttered, my voice was shaking.
In front of me, a transparent screen appeared. A game interface, glowing blue, like something out of GTA.
[Welcome to SinCity]
Mission: Reach the Safehouse.
Objective: Survive.
There were bars showing Health, Stamina, Respect, and a blinking mini-map that showed a red zone spreading fast.
I stood there staring at it, my chest was going up and down fast as realization started to hit me like cold water.
"This can't be real," I whispered. "I'm in the game..."
The interface pulsed again, and a digital voice echoed in my head, calm, robotic, almost bored.
> "Mission active."
I looked around at the chaos, the sound of sirens and gunfire was coming back in full force, the taste of iron was still in my mouth.
I wasn't at my desk anymore. I wasn't playing a game. I was inside it.
And if what just happened was anything to go by, dying here wasn't going to be any easier the second time.
___
To be continued...