Gods | A flash fiction story
58 of đź’Ż
He had walked on the pitch black of the bottom of the ocean, slept on heavenly clouds, cast spells from tall medieval towers, and fought aliens and dinosaurs, but Minda was still a human.
Being a human wasn’t actually the problem, having a human body was. “Bodies are stupid,” he said every time he had to leave the simulation to deal with physiological needs.
The latest upgrades for his Aether rig had alleviated the issue — things coming out weren’t as much of a problem anymore — but he still liked to chew and taste the things coming in. He could go for days on nutrinjectors, but he missed eating actual food.
He had dealt with managing his business — the simulation arcade — by renting a surrogate bot he could inhabit remotely to do the constant physical repairs the rigs required — especially the porn rigs with their numerous tentacles and their intricate system of lubricant tubes. His regulars didn’t mind his absence, they actually preferred it. After a couple of months, the bot had collected enough samples and now it ran on autopilot most of the time.
Humans hadn’t been made for the real world, anyway. They had been made to create and explore their own realities, to blur the line between real and virtual, possible and impossible. Humans weren’t meant to just be humans. They were meant to be gods.
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