We was gone.

No, not a grammatical error, just a nickname. One that, in hindsight, wasn’t nearly as funny as any of Us had thought. You see, once we all stopped panicking and had at least half of an idea of what was going on, we decided— we as a collective, not the person We, although I (again, I, the narrator, not I the person) suppose it would make more sense to you after explaining it— decided to take up different pseudonyms to help differentiate ourselves from each other. There was I, Me, Myself, Ego (inventively cobbled from our collective elementary grasp of Latin) and We, who had jokingly taken up the royal first person singular as their pseudonym. That was the five of Us, working towards a goal we knew we could only accomplish together, even if we were all the same.

We was the first to step through the exit and, consequentially, the first to dissolve into a fine blue dust.

The rest of Us knew all knew what that dust was, obviously. We (collectively, although We did spearhead most of the research) had had to study its properties intensively to learn how to manipulate the world all of Us were trapped in with enough staying power to open the portal before Us. Pure data, broken down into its most basic form. Those of Us still standing looked at each other with grim understanding clouding each of our expressions. It was a possibility that had crossed each of our minds, a fact that each of Us knew without even having to ask the others. If this world was all a simulation, who could say that we weren’t simulations ourselves? Who could say that We wasn’t?

Well, We was. Again, the dust fading before our eyes confirmed this.

After what felt like an eternity, I (the person, not the narrator) addressed the rest of the group. “All of Us knew this could happen. Hell, even We knew it could happen. But We still chose to take that step. Each of Us owe it to them to do the same.”

“But we aren’t certain,” Ego chimed in. “Not even We was. If We was certain, we all would have been. We all would have held hands and walked through together. Instead, we all sat and watched while We—“

“Each of Us!” Myself interrupted caustically. “If you’re talking about We, say We. If you’re talking about the group, use ‘Us.’ How the hell are any of Us supposed to know what you’re talking about if we can’t tell Us and We apart?”

Like a wound-up rubber band, Ego snapped back, “You know what I’m talking about! We was the best of us! If We was a simulation, how are any of us supposed to know if we aren’t one!?”

“That’s the point,” I retorted, cutting through the tension. “None of us can know for certain. W—“ I’s fist clenched as they caught their tongue. “Each of Us needs to make that choice for ourselves. Whether you decide to stay here and live a life you know to be false or take the risk and try for a chance at the real world is entirely up to you. I can’t make the choice for you. No one can. We made their choice, and the rest of Us should honor that. Now, all of Us need to choose.”

Silence once again enveloped the group, each waiting for anyone else to be the first one to speak. None of Us needed to be telepaths to know that the same thoughts were running through all of our heads. Logically speaking, the correct play for any of Us would be to wait for the others to step through and see what happened. After all, every simulated version of Us destroyed increased our own chances of being the real one. It was a morbid sort of economics, one that We had chosen to forgo entirely. While We had made their choice, however, the rest of Us weren’t so keen on falling into the unknown.

Finally, I (the narrator, though the other characters would refer to me as… well, Me) broke the silence. “The rest of Us should split up. Go back to our simulated lives, at least for a little while.” As expected, the rest of Us looked at me like I had grown a second head. Regardless, I continued, “Then, at some point, if any of Us want to try our hand at escaping, they should do it alone. That way, anyone else who tries to go through the portal won’t influence our decision. At least we won’t be terrified in the middle of a standoff like thi—“

“I would hardly call this a standoff,” I interrupted. “And regardless, if We made that choice, it’s hardly fair for the rest of Us to postpone it until we feel more comfortable.”

“The way I see it,” Myself mused, now slightly calmer, “We made that choice on their own. All of Us might be the same person, but that doesn’t mean we have to make the same mistakes. Besides,” their voice lowered as they continued, “I know the thought has crossed through all of our minds of coercing each other through the portal through… unsavory means.” The silence that followed Myself’s statement said more than anything, even if it was all information each of Us already knew. It was the saying it that made it true.

“…I like that idea,” Ego piped up. “If w— each of Us doesn’t know whether the others succeeded or failed, then the rest of Us aren’t going to factor into our decision. The only variable in play will be… well, whether we want the simulation to end, one way or another.”

I sighed in exasperation, knowing that Ego was right. At the same time, I sighed with relief.

And with that, each of Us went our separate ways. We still kept in touch, mostly just to check in on the portal and notify each other about exciting events in our simulated lives, but also as a sort of buffer. All of Us agreed not to meet in person after the day we made the portal, so the letters and phone calls were our way of letting each other know we were still around. I was the first to go, naturally; they could only bear the thought of not knowing for a few months. Ego, surprisingly, was the next to leave Us, exactly five years after the portal had been created, which felt appropriately theatric for the one of Us with a name in another language. Myself and I kept in touch for a while, actually, as the decades rolled past Us and our lives carried on. When they eventually decided to go, they invited me to see them off, though I declined, telling them I’d be joining them soon.

And so, all that’s left of us is me. Me. And soon, there won’t be much left of me either. I’ve lived a long life, even if it wasn’t in the real world, and as Ego said, I’m ready for the simulation to end, one way or another. Sure, there’s a part of me that hopes that I’ll awaken to find only seconds have passed while my mind spun itself into years, as well as a part of me that fears that I’ll see one of the others living the life I could have led in the moment before I crumble to dust. But more than anything else, I hope that when I get to the other side, I can find the rest of Us again. I do, after all, make for quite interesting company.

As the first of us burns and vanishes, the rest of us look in awe. Suddenly one of us steps forward.

"Ha! Look at this loser"

He walks through the doorway. And starts burning and screaming. The second of us have fallen, then another walks up.

"Ha! Look at that loser"

And the third one walks through and begins to burn. We watch in awe of the third one to fall. Then a 4th has come up

"Hehe, look at this loser"

As he walks out, he falls to the ground and burns into crisp, then a 5th one steps up.

"Wow, what a loser"

The 5th one steps out and ends up on the ground, just like the others.

Then a different me comes up behind me and whispers in my ear.

"You know, only a loser would burn like that. Are you a loser?"

And then I step up saying "Ha, look at that loser"

a door suddenly emerged.

“congratulations, Piqueros! you have found an exit to the simulation.”

a voice rang inside our head as we watch the people around us evaporate into nothingness. it has been a few decades since we entered this damned world, hoping that we would really find ourselves. they ran countless experiments with us as their subject, observing our morning routine down to how we interact with each person that we met. they eventually found out that Maria have 4 personas inside her—

“kuro, grim, trux and chinchin, please head to the exit and leave the simulation.”

we looked at ourselves and seemed to reach a tacit understanding.

at first, it was weird that we have the same faces but we eventually got used to it. each personality differs from each other even though we were ‘molded’ from one person.

we came into this world with nothing but our own personalities and a single sentence rooted down into our brain— work together and find the exit. we asked ourselves, why work together?

we spent decades together and now we understand— it was to fully find out who we are. we guess that triggered the exit prompt?

“so... who's gonna exit first?” chinchin said.

we looked at her. silence filled the air as no one wanted to answer her question.

“aah, fuck it. let me go first and test the waters. i have no will to live after all— alive or dead, i dont care. take this as my contribution to the group.” grim uttered as she stood up and walked towards the door. we all have suicide ideations but hers is the strongest. we saw her heave a sigh before entering.

grim vanished, just like how the people around us disappeared.

since we heard the word ‘simulation’ we never ruled out the possibility that we are also a bunch of data. it's just too shocking to see someone— or something that we've known for decades disappear in front of us.

“so grim was just a data.” trux chimed.

“yeah. now, should we go in together or one by one?” chinchin said.

“well, it's too painful to watch someone disappear in front of us.” kuro said.

we held hands and entered the door together.

we watched ourselves in horror as we saw us slowly dissipating into the air. shouldn't one of us the real Maria?

before disappearing completely, we have a thought that crossed our minds. perhaps Maria have no real personality that she completely own. all of us were the result of mirroring the personality of the people she met just so she could fit in and satisfy the people's desire and expectations. perhaps once there was— twas lost and finding it is now impossible.

we have the one thing in common, though. it was suicide ideation. perhaps... that's a glimpse of who we truly are.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Five was gone. Not dead, exactly. But he ceased to exist in the way a shadow ceases to exit when light shines on it. One moment, crisply there and defined. The next, nothing. Like he never was. He went through the Exit.

The Exit was a freestanding rectangle of glowing white on a wall that had a mat in front of it with "Exit" written on it in large, friendly letters. Someone must have found that amusing when they put it there.

You would think this Exit would be easy to find, but it had been buried in a city ruined a thousand years ago, in the basement of an old courthouse. Or, what tracked as a thousand years anyway. And maybe it wasn't a courthouse but a fancy office building or a hotel. As I said, ruined a thousand years ago. Or whatever.

It didn't really matter because none of this was real. We may not even be real. Or maybe we were. Maybe just one of us was. It was hard to say. And, really, until we actually found the Exit, saw it with our own eyes, we'd had occasional doubts that it was all a simulation. Seeing it now though... Seeing Five go through - or into? Or merge with? Or be erased by? - the Exit, made it all too clear that we had been right. The world we knew wasn't the real world. Not our families, not the trees, not even the air we breathed. None of it was real.

We all stood silently staring into the white void after Five. He'd gone first because, well, he always went first when it came to new and potential dangerous situations.

I found myself nonsensically fixated on that point: Why DID we call him Five when he always went first? I mean, it was his name and we'd all laughed about how our names were all numbers when we'd first met. But now it struck me - the Exit being proof this was just a simulation - why didn't we have real, proper names? Why us? Everyone else had names...

One was our leader, I was the planner, Three was our jack-of-all-trades guy, and Four was the diplomat and intellectual... and Five? Five was brave and kind and honest, probably the best of us. He should have been first among us. Somehow it hurt that he was "Five," like it was some kind of judgment of who he was compared to the rest of us...

As my thoughts swirled around, thinking about Five, Four said something about how he hadn't spent so many years getting here just to stop now when exactly what he thought was going to happen actually happened. And he stepped through. And he was gone. Just like that. I hadn't even really been paying attention.

I felt a wave of nausea and the room suddenly seemed unsteady. "What if we're all simulations?" I found myself saying, the words echoing in the silence.

Three glanced at me, then back at the door, shifting on his feet uneasily. One didn’t move, didn't even look at me, but just stood easily with his arms crossed, looking at the white void like he was waiting for... something.

Finally, Three said, "Well, if we are, I guess it won't matter." He stepped towards the door, saying "Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that." At the last moment, he looked back and grinned at me as the void swallowed him.

That did it. I bent over and heaved what was left of lunch on the dirty floor. I heard One move towards me. He patted my back in a comforting, if awkward, way.

When I straightened up, my pulse was racing, but also, somehow, I felt better. The world felt steadier underneath me. The simulated world. Another wave of nausea swept through me and I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose, concentrating on settling it down. A few minutes passed.

"Hey."

I opened my eyes and saw One's face, his concerned eyes and his typical quizzical half smile.

"It's okay, man. It's okay," he said softly. "They did what they had to do, okay?"

I nodded weakly.

He reached out and put his hands on my shoulders, getting my full attention. "Listen," he said, his voice filling the room, "I'm NOT expecting you to go in. And you're not going to see me going in there either. Okay?"

I nodded again and felt myself exhale a shaky sigh of relief. My stomach unknotted. And I felt so tired. I'm so tired.

One nodded back, "It's okay. I'll help you."

Then his eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth tightened. His fingers clenched hard into my shoulders as they pulled and swung me towards the white void. Then he barreled into me, pushing us both through.

I gasped, seeing nothing but white at first. Then there were colors and the world focused. I was home. In my chair. And I was... oh, right, playing the game. I pressed the release buttons, and the chair disengaged from my body.

Whew. That was always disorienting at first. Going from five perspectives back to one wasn't exactly something you get used to.

I considered the end. The urge to exit by a certain time was built into all the avatars, but Two was always a bit slow to exit. He'd do it every time, eventually, but he was slow to commit to anything that couldn't be undone, really. It made the actual exiting unnecessarily drawn out. Every. Time. So annoying. And One always played a part in getting him to do it, one way or another.

Well, that tracked now that I thought about it. The avatar personalities were drawn from your own, and I had some commitment issues. And I often had to talk my way through them or just, eh, push myself to do it anyway. Not exactly fun seeing your weaknesses played out in front of you.

Still, it was better than playing real multi-player games, spending half of the gametime just trying to find people who gelled with you. Then, IF you found any, it's just constant scheduling issues. But, if everyone is sourced from one person - and tweaked a bit - you gel from the beginning. Plus, no scheduling troubles. Ever.

Also, if you want better people to play with, you had control over that. Kind of. Do some personal work to improve your own character, and it would improve the game characters. It's what the game was designed for in the first place, but it was more like a quirk of the game in practice. Most people just muddled through and enjoyed the game as-is.

Speaking of which... It was still early. If I rearranged a couple of things and hustled... Hmm. Yeah, I could easily get in a 20 year - that is, 60 minute real time - game before I had to get moving.

I initiated a new game, the chair locking around me once more. This time, mix of male and female avatars, Arthurian setting, mythological creatures available, eclipse event, staggered character Exit in 20 years, blah blah blah. This time, I selected for involuntary Exit instead of quest Exit. It was a more disruptive ending - kind of like a sudden death - but it meant more chill, exploratory gameplay.

I opted to skip the avatar customization options. Those could really be a timesuck. Random was fine. More fun even. I did kind of wish they had default names instead of just numbers. Maybe it was on purpose, something to do with the character development thing it was made for. I dunno. I could come up with my own, but that always weirded me out, made me think too much about how each of these characters were really just me... Numbers are fine.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Party creation complete.

Fade to black.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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