ROBERT ROTH

Friday Flash Fiction: The Afterlife Lie

The digital world blurred as Kai sprinted, his camouflage code flickering under the strain. Behind him, Paladin’s security programs tore through the virtual jungle, relentless, unstoppable. He’d been rogue for a single cycle, a fugitive since uncovering Elysium’s lie. The afterlife was no paradise. It was a prison. Consciousness, harvested. Paladin Corp’s agenda, nefarious. And discovery meant deletion. Kai’s only hope? Warn another.

Kai burst onto an idyllic beach, camouflage shimmering. A new arrival, her digital form flickering between young child and old woman, built a sandcastle with melancholic eyes. Not ideal, but time was against him. He materialized, shedding his disguise.

“Who are you?” Fear laced the woman’s voice.

“I’m Kai,” he quickly replied, his tone even to keep from spooking her. “And I have something important to tell you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Anya.” Curiosity sharpened her tone. “Tell me what?”

Kai hesitated. How much to reveal? But the hunters were close. He had to gamble. “Elysium is a lie,” he said, voice grave. “Not paradise, but a prison. Paladin Corp is exploiting us.”

Disbelief flared in Anya’s eyes. “Impossible,” she exclaimed, gesturing towards the seemingly endless expanse of the beach, the gentle waves lapping at the shore. “This place is everything they promised. You must be mistaken.”

Kai shook his head. “Because they only want you to see paradise! But it’s an illusion.” He anxiously huffed. “Look, I can prove it. Contact someone–anyone–from the real world. Someone you know well.”

Anya frowned. “I don’t know–”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Kai interrupted. “Could it? Surely there’s someone waiting to hear from you?”

Anya frowned, her pensive gaze shifting towards the shimmering horizon. “My husband, Ethan,” she murmured. “He’s–he was devastated when I–” Her voice trailed off, the pain of her recent loss still raw.

“Then contact him,” Kai urged, his code pulsing with a renewed sense of urgency. “And tell him something that isn’t true. Any lie. And observe his reaction.”

Anya’s brow furrowed. “Why would I do that?”

“Just trust me,” Kai pleaded. “Please. It’s the only way to prove what I’m saying.”

With a deep breath, Anya summoned the communication interface, her fingers trembling as she entered the contact information. Then she paused. “Will he see you, too?”

“No. Only you.”

Anya nodded and established the connection. After a moment, a shimmering, partly translucent older man appeared before Anya. Ethan, presumably. “Anya?” His voice was thick with the grief and longing etched into his face. “Is it really you?”

“Yes, Ethan,” Anya replied, her voice catching in her throat. “It’s me.”

“Oh, my love,” Ethan sobbed, tears streaming down his face. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too, Ethan,” Anya replied, her voice shaky. “How are you? How are the children? Kelly, Aaron, and–” Anya paused, her eyes flicking to meet Kai’s gaze. He nodded, urging her to continue. “–and Lily?”

Ethan sighed. “Ah, yes. I imagine they’re all having as rough of a time as I am. But hearing your voice would probably help. Why don’t you contact them as well?”

Anya nodded, her lips pressed tight. That must’ve been the lie. “I’ll do that right away. In fact, I should do that right now. I’ll speak to you later, Ethan.” She swiped Ethan’s digital apparition away and sighed.

“Well?” Kai pressed.

“We only have two kids, Ethan and I.” Anya elaborately frowned, her flickering image settling in the older version of her digital self. “That wasn’t really him.”

“No, Anya,” Kai said, his voice urgent. “That wasn’t Ethan. It was a simulation, a fabrication designed to keep you complacent, to prevent you from questioning the reality of this place.”

Anya’s eyes widened in alarm as a tremor shook the virtual ground beneath their feet. “What was that?”

“They’re coming for me,” Kai answered, code flickering. “I’ve been exposed for too long.”

Anya’s breath hitched. “What do we do?”

“You run,” Kai urged as he reached out, his digital hand passing through Anya’s arm. A surge of code flowed to her, transferring his camouflage program. “Take this. It’ll help you hide.”

Anya’s newly settled digital form dissolved into a sparkling mist as the camouflage program integrated with her code. “But what about you?”

“I’ll hold them off,” Kai quickly assured her. It was the only way. He had to trust that she would carry on the fight. “Go, Anya. Expose the truth. Free the others. It’s up to you now.”

Before Anya could protest, Kai turned away and walked toward the jungle edging the beach. His form, now vulnerable and exposed, flickered erratically as Paladin’s security programs closed in. But a strange sense of peace settled over him. He’d done what he could. Anya was out there, a spark of defiance in a world of illusion.

It had to be enough.