Storefronts had collapsed or warped, as if they’d been made of soft plastic and left to melt in the sun. Some of them had degraded into a mess of pixels, parts of them glitching and snapping in and out of sight. Abandoned Tangents roamed the streets, seemingly robbed of their central programming and left to wander aimlessly. Some even appeared dangerous, left with a lot of virtual power but no conscience, no reason not to attack the Auras of innocent visitors. Michael steered clear of anything remotely suspicious.

A lot of the complex code necessary to create such a lifelike place had been forcibly Decayed or just plain neglected by its operators, who were too scared of the chaos to stick around. There were potholes in the streets and sidewalks, gaping black holes that led who-knew-where, ungodly places with no Portals—places from which probably only a skilled coder like Michael could escape.

Scary had been Michael’s first impression upon arriving, and it stayed with him. If he’d been just some normal Joe coming for a jaunt in the Sleep, he’d have been terrified to his very core. Even with his skills, he was afraid. Confident, but afraid.

He carefully made his way through the square, heading toward an outer point so it’d be easier for him to hack into the code and take himself where he wanted to go. He watched every step he took—the damage to the area wasn’t static; a gaping hole appeared right in front of him at one point—as he walked away from the central area of shops and restaurants and found a side street that led to a dark alley. On the far end, there was a faint purple glow, and he knew it’d be a good place to work his magic.

The alley swallowed him. The programming in the narrow walkway cut off the noise from the square and made it feel as if his ears had been stuffed with cotton. He didn’t stop, refusing to let fear dampen his determination. If anyone could handle this wreck of a VirtNet, it was Michael. At least, that was what he told himself.

Finally, he reached the pool of dark purple light. It had no substance or form, no obvious source. When he turned to look back the way he’d come, there was no sign of the square. No sign of anything at all.

The code really was breaking down. Nothing showed it better than this—it was as if the programmers hadn’t even attempted to make the setting of the commerce square resemble real life. It was broken in the middle, nonexistent on the edges. Michael literally stood in the middle of virtual nowhere.

He sat down, closed his eyes, and dove into the code.

It was even worse than he’d thought.

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