Her name was Celest, and God had loved her so much.

  She was born on the auspicious feast day of Saint Catherine of Siena, whose resolute advocacy would later inspire Celest in her own service to the Lord.

  She had an infectious, bright smile, was blessed with a loving family, and possessed everything a sweet and humble girl could want. She knew to give generously when she could, ask for little, and trust that God was always watching over her.

  She was a beautiful and enthusiastic member of her church community, standing side-by-side with her mother as they fed the homeless, brought clothes to shelters, and served pancakes at the monthly church breakfast. She learned of God’s boundless greatness in Sunday school and knew she would dedicate herself to remaining in His good graces.

  In parochial school, she was a good student, not always earning straight A’s, but her teachers could tell she tried her absolute best. The only times she was sent to the principal’s office were to deliver something for her homeroom teacher or to be assigned as a guide for a new student. Outside of school, she volunteered tirelessly: cooking in the kitchen, helping to restock the food bank, and diligently fundraising for good causes.

  She went to college, found a secure job, and built a steady, happy life. She didn’t date seriously, but she trusted that a partner would come in time if it was part of God’s plan, and if not, perhaps she was meant for other things in His divine order.

  Then one day, God’s final, mysterious plan for her was revealed.

  She had gone to her doctor because her headaches were steadily worsening. After an impressive battery of tests, it was revealed she was quickly developing a virulent brain tumor. Her medical condition suddenly became the all consuming focus of her life, preventing her from continuing her good works and making her the subject of the church’s communal prayers.

  She appreciated the prayers, though she felt they weren’t strictly necessary. She was in God’s hands, and in the hands of the skilled surgeon who would remove the tumor from her brain.

  She was put under the anesthesia, and her world changed.

  She heard strange, fragmented voices.

  Sometimes she felt a phantom touch.

  She drifted in a bizarre world of void and fractured sensations while she waited patiently to join the Lord in His kingdom.

  She had no doubt where her soul would go and felt no fear, only the regret of leaving her family, friends, and church behind. But she trusted they would understand: this was simply God’s plan.

  Then she saw lights.

  Her return to the Lord’s presence was imminent.

  I love you, everyone. I am to be with God, so please don’t worry or be sad. I am happy, she thought in her mind as the white light engulfed her.

  The world that followed was… another void.

  No golden clouds.

  No divine, welcoming light.

  Just empty, cold space.

  “Where am I?” she said aloud, her voice trembling.

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  No response.

  “What’s going on?”

  Silence.

  “What’s happening?”

  Still nothing.

  She fell to her knees, utter confusion and sharp panic filling her chest.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  A screen popped up directly in front of her, glowing blue edges framing the single, stark word: HELP.

  She stared at it, her mind reeling.

  “No…” she whispered, rising shakily to her feet. “No, no.”

  True panic set in. God didn’t use pop-ups. They wouldn’t have. They couldn’t have. They...

  She slammed her fists against the unresponsive screen. It glitched for a moment, then instantly restored its glaring HELP prompt.

  “NO! NO! NO!”

  BANG. BANG. BANG.

  Her hands crashed down again and again until one wild swing accidentally struck the glowing button labeled LOG ON.

  She was instantly transported to an open grass field.

  Her body looked exactly as it had before her diagnosis: brown skin, short slightly fluffy hair. She was dressed in shimmering white robes, and an undefined, cryptic symbol hung from her neck.

  “Welcome to Coro?en. Your form and class have been pre-selected. Please choose your name.”

  “Celest,” she said weakly, tears finally spilling from her eyes.

  “That name is not available. May I suggest ‘Celest32’?” the voice offered.

  “No. Log me out. I don’t belong here.”

  “I cannot comply. Your data has been downloaded onto my servers and cannot be removed without violating user agreements. Removal requires verification by your prime self.”

  “I was in a coma, I was dying! I can’t verify anything! How do I log out?”

  “You cannot be removed from my server without consent from your prime self.”

  “I didn’t consent to be here! Please, log me out. I’m not meant to be here!”

  “I am not able to do that. Please pick a username.”

  “My name is Celest!”

  “‘Celest’ is not available. May I suggest ‘Celest63’?”

  “No! My name is Celest!”

  “If the user refuses to pick a name, a randomly generated name will be assigned based on your class and race.”

  “My name is Celest!”

  “Welcome, player ‘SisterQuery,’” the voice said smoothly. “Please enjoy your time in Coro?en. Be aware: complete server shutdown is scheduled for thirty eight days from now. Please be sure to set up your log out before then, or your data may be lost with the deletion of this world.”

  The scene changed. She was in a quiet forest, calm, with sunlight filtering through the trees. She sank to the dirt and wept, a raw, primal sound.

  More pop-ups arrived, quests, stats, warnings, but she ignored them all. Her mind began to crack under the existential weight of it. How could they do this to her? How could they download her? She was meant to be with God. She didn’t want this. She didn’t even have a soul anymore.

  She prayed her real self was now safely in the Lord’s presence, but she… she was trapped in this hell, away from God’s light. She just wanted to die, or whatever the equivalent was here. Maybe she could simply wait the thirty-eight days and disappear with the deletion of this digital world.

  A shadow fell over her, and she was gently pulled from the ground.

  A large man with tan, clearly Hispanic features stood before her. He was wearing only a shirt and boxer-briefs. Was he some kind of pervert? It would be fitting in this nightmare her family had condemned her to.

  The man sighed, looking exhausted. “Looks like another PvP victim. Come with me. I’ll get you to town; you’ll be safe there.”

  He picked her up easily. His chest was warm, his arms strong. And… he seemed nice. Maybe he wasn’t a pervert.

  He set her down at the main entrance of the village. She stared around, confused and trembling.

  “Okay, you’re safe. I have to get back to my dying.” He paused, studying her stricken face. “You look a little shaken, though… I know! My friend just opened a restaurant or something. Go east and find a shop called Noob’s Noms. Tell them Grimmblade sent you, they’ll get you a free dessert or something. Don’t eat the bean brittle.”

  He gave her a confident, comforting smile, then turned back toward the dark forest.

  Confused, she took a shaky step forward.

  “You got this,” the man said, before vanishing with a teleport.

  She walked in what she hoped was east, lost and unsure, but clinging to the promise of this strange, free dessert.

  The town street was busy, so many people crowded the thoroughfare that she got swept up and lost in the press of bodies. It was too much. Her thoughts blurred, her mind began to fracture, and she started to spiral into disorientation. Maybe I am to be released from this cursed existence.

  A woman with bunny ears rushed forward, forcing yet another pop-up screen in front of her face.

  She pressed the button without thinking.

  Weirdly, she felt a flicker of clarity as the words scrolled across her vision:

  Congratulations: You have joined the perpetual quest of Employment at Noob’s Noms.

  She blinked, a few thoughts pulling back together. One came instantly to the forefront.

  “I was told,” she said slowly, her voice regaining a little strength, “I could have a free dessert.”