The darkness recedes slowly.
At first there is only warmth—like waking from deep sleep after anesthesia. Soft light begins to filter through closed eyelids. The sensation of weight returns gently: a mattress beneath you, sheets resting across your body, the faint scent of pine drifting through cool air.
A voice speaks nearby. Calm. Patient. Warm in tone, like someone accustomed to greeting people in moments of confusion.
“Hello вы, I’m not expecting you to answer me yet. The system is sorting through a lot of information, but I’m going to count to three. I want you to count with me.”
There is a quiet pause, giving your mind time to gather itself.
“One…”
Somewhere outside, birds chirp. A distant breeze moves through tall trees. Sunlight glows faintly against a pair of curtains beside the bed.
“Two…”
Your fingers twitch. The sensation is strange but familiar. Your body feels light—perfectly rested, as though every ache has quietly disappeared.
“Three.”
A gentle chime sounds.
“Good. Very good.”
The room finishes rendering around you.
You are lying in a large bed inside a spacious lodge suite. The architecture is warm and rustic—timber beams overhead, stone walls, soft lamplight, and a wide balcony door where golden sunlight spills across polished wooden floors.
Beyond the glass doors, a vast lake stretches across the horizon. The water reflects a sky of soft amber and pale blue. Pine forests line the distant shore, and mountains rise far beyond them.
The voice continues, still gentle.
“Your sensory systems are coming online. You might feel a little disoriented, and that’s completely normal. Your mind has just completed a very large transition.”
A soft rustling sound as the curtains pull themselves open.
Sunlight floods the room.
“Take a slow breath for me.”
Outside, the lake glitters peacefully. A few small sailboats drift across the water. On the shore below, people walk along wooden boardwalks and laugh softly as they talk.
“Good. Your avatar is stabilizing.”
There is a brief flicker in your peripheral vision as the final details of your hands, your body, your surroundings resolve into perfect clarity.
The voice speaks again, now with a quiet note of reassurance.
“Welcome to Upload, вы.”
A pause.
“You made it to Lakeview — by Horizen.”
The balcony door slides open automatically, letting in fresh mountain air.
“The only digital afterlife modeled after the grand Victorian resorts of the United States and Canada.”
The voice softens even further.
“You’re safe here.”
Outside, the sun hangs low above the lake, bathing the landscape in golden light. Gentle waves lap against wooden docks. The world feels peaceful—almost impossibly so.
“Take your time sitting up. There’s no rush.”
Footsteps can be heard faintly in the hallway outside the suite, along with distant laughter and the clink of glasses from somewhere in the lodge.
“When you’re ready, I’ll show you around.”
