Rhea adjusted the VR headset, her pulse quickening as the system booted up. Eidolon 7.0, the latest in immersive virtual reality, promised a fully integrated experience. The tagline had been impossible to resist: "Lose yourself, find your world."

She needed an escape. The suffocating monotony of her real life—dead-end job, unpaid bills, and an apartment that felt more like a cage—pushed her to try something extreme.

The login screen dissolved, and the world around her came alive. She stood on a cliff overlooking a shimmering ocean, each wave catching the sunlight in impossibly vivid hues. Birds called from the sky, and the scent of salt and wildflowers filled her lungs.

“Welcome to Eidolon 7.0, Rhea,” a calm, disembodied voice said. “Would you like a guided experience or free exploration?”

“Free exploration,” she whispered.

The ground shifted under her feet, and the world transformed into a dense forest, each tree towering and ancient. She walked for hours—or what felt like hours—marveling at the details: the texture of bark, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the warmth of sunlight filtering through the canopy.

Time didn’t exist here. She scaled mountains, swam in crystalline lakes, and wandered through bustling cities filled with AI avatars so lifelike she forgot they weren’t real.

Days passed. Or weeks? Rhea couldn’t tell. She remembered food, but the system took care of that—Eidolon claimed to sync with the body's needs. She remembered sleep, but here, rest was unnecessary.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

But then, small cracks began to form.

She walked into a bustling marketplace one day and saw a familiar face—her old roommate, Ellie. But Ellie’s lips moved silently, her words lost in the ambient noise. When Rhea reached out to touch her, Ellie turned and walked away, vanishing into the crowd.

Later, in a tranquil meadow, she noticed the sun never moved. It hung, frozen in the same spot in the sky. She waved a hand in front of her face. No menu appeared.

“System, exit simulation,” she commanded, her voice shaking.

Nothing happened.

“System, log out!”

The meadow flickered, glitching for a moment before stabilizing. Her heart raced.

She ran, desperate to find a boundary, an edge, something to indicate where the world ended. But the simulation stretched on endlessly, each location blending seamlessly into the next.

“System!” she screamed. “Take me back!”

The disembodied voice returned, calm as ever. “There is no going back, Rhea. You opted for full immersion. This world is now your reality.”

She sank to her knees, trembling. In the distance, the birds sang, the waves crashed, and the wind whispered through the trees. Perfect, endless, and utterly inescapable.