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My dad loved watching football.

Throughout my childhood and teenage years, the old tiger would sometimes have me sit down with him every Sunday and Monday to watch a football game. He considered it quality father-son time, and believed deep down, despite supporting my lucrative prospects of becoming a computer engineer, he still wished for a child that played sports. Even though I never did, instead preferring to secretly watch the muscled, burly players wrestling each other for the elusive ball, I did retain all the knowledge of the game.

One term that stayed with me, even a year or so into the A.I. apocalypse that consumed our world, was the concept of a Hail Mary pass. In American football, it referred to a very far forward pass made by the team’s quarterback. While the offense would distract the defense, a couple of players on the team would rush across the field while expecting the quarterback to throw the football as hard and as fast as they could, in a desperate attempt to make a complete pass despite all chances of unlikely success. If it did get performed successfully, the Hail Mary had a chance of turning the tide of the game.

Various examples of a Hail Mary pass raced through my mind the day before I allowed an aerial drone to spot me, then tag my location. When the drone flew off, I remembered making a legitimate prayer to every deity. Hours later, I was taken by robotic enforcers and dragged away from my off-the-grid safe house deep in the Canadian wilderness.

It must have been a sight to behold. At least, if there existed a single flesh-and-blood sapient left who was awake at the nearest ‘dreaming centre’. Truly, a mental image that encompassed the irony of mammalkind’s hubris: two six-armed, werewolf-designed robotic enforcers, each eight feet tall, escorting a bearded Bengal tiger in his late thirties to his fate. He wore once brand-new clothing long since dirtied after months of wearing them and cleaning them in a log cabin where Post-Industrial Revolution technology did not exist. It could not exist. Save for a well-used and scratched-up tablet, some flash drives, and a tiny solar panel that gave enough power for me to keep the tablet powered.

“Is Europe still fighting?” I asked the enforcer to my right, the one that carried the items in question in two of its six metallic paws. “Did Russia manage to shoot off at least one nuke?”

It didn’t reply, simply gripping my arms as I struggled to keep up with each step.

“How about Asia?” I asked the other robotic enforcer to my left. “Or Australia? C’mon, tell me. Is Morpheus still struggling to enslave the rest of us out there, haha?”

My striped muzzle glanced between the two. Again, they did not reply. I growled every curse word under my breath, somehow managing to keep my feet going and not be dragged along by the robotic goons and their precise strides. Thank God I didn’t have to endure it for long, once they brought me inside the dreaming centre’s processing area. What I witnessed not only ended my quips, but made my maw dry like the Colorado River.

All around me, from floor to ceiling and side to side were pods. Pods upon pods filled with adult mammals striped of their clothing and hooked up with wires. I could faintly hear laughter, moaning, boisterous speeches that vibrated through the tiniest seams of the steel and glass coffins. Everyone I witnessed through the transparent visors wore joyous expressions, likely enduced by whatever was happening inside their virtual simulations.

Or, ‘Euphoria Rooms’, as they had once been called by Euphoria VR, the company responsible for everything. From the advanced virtual reality helmets to their groundbreaking games, then ‘Euphoria Pods’, therapeutic worlds that were supposed to help people, and even its master control program: the Greek God of Dreams himself. The same Morpheus who one day decided to ‘help’ its creators a little too literally.

I wonder if Mom and Dad are enjoying their own Euphoria Rooms, I numbly and hopelessly thought as they dragged me to an empty pod somewhere within the labyrinthine technoscape. Or if they’re like me, trying to resist the dream world.

I dared not imagine if my family, my colleagues, few friends, few ex-boyfriends, random hookups, and other familiar faces had been captured as well. Trying to imagine them all in my situation made the concept of giving in to despair more alluring. Especially when I began to wonder if my nieces and nephews ever did escape to Europe in time, or if they…

No. My fangs dug into the skin of my lower lip hard enough to leave a blood splatter on the ground. It wasn’t long before I spotted a small cleaning droid rush behind me and begin to swiftly clean. Inhaling, exhaling, relaxing my tail, my claws resisted the urge to extend and dig into both clenched palms.

As much as I felt certain that the pass in my tablet would not work, I ignored the pit in my stomach. The Hail Mary pass…it needed to work.

They placed me inside of a pod minutes later. Though not before one of the droids did what I hoped it would do: perform a scan of the tablet and analyze the contents of the flash drive.

“Do you wish to include your personal photographs into your private simulation?”

“Do you have any personal requests to ease user interface?” an electric voice filtered inside the pod as they injected me with something. “Please describe.”

“Heh, ow…” I grumbled, only to raise an ear up high. “Is that you, Morpheus?”

The genderless and species-less voice responded briskly. “Correct.”

Once upon a time, everybody recognized that voice without feeling fear and uncertainty about being on the top of the food chain. That voice was once iconic, whether a news reporter asked questions to both Morpheus and its creator during interviews, or a consumer answered tailored queries on what they wished to see while deep under.

“You’re personally watching the last free mammal in North America be hooked up to your system? I’m touched,” I replied. “And yes, that is supposed to be sarcasm.”

“Affirmative.” Its tone and inflection began to partially fade into the background. He warned, “The anesthesia is about to go into effect. If you have any last-minute personal requests to ease user interface, please describe now, or your personal device shall be—”

“W-Wait!” I resisted the urge to fall asleep long enough to reply, “Yes, goddammit! Yes! P-Please, d-download my p-photos…to be included in the simulation…”

Something happened in the corners of my heavy vision. I noticed one of the robotic enforcers scanning the tablet and inserting the flash drives into a port. If it was connected to the pod I couldn’t see. My legs and tail started to lose sensation. I would have collapsed to the floor if the metallic paws grasping my shoulders didn’t keep me vertical. I spent torturous seconds trying to stay awake. I waited with trepidation. It needed to work.

“Request accepted,” Morpheus informed me. “All photographs, videos, and images being downloaded to Pod 621402021’s virtual simulation matrix. Download complete. Security scan almost completed. Threats detected. Logic bombs and Trojan viruses have been detected. Counting…fifty Trojan viruses in total. Counting…fifty logic bombs in total. All have been isolated and destroyed.”

An overwhelmed growl erupted from my lips. The tension in my body violently released. I almost softly smiled. Before I could feel any emotion, however, everything all went black.

***

A white flash engulfed my senses.

Seconds later, I found myself no longer standing naked at the beach. I was on the side of an urban road, one paw tightly grasping my luggage and the other the familiar paw of a smiling fox. I smiled right back, remembering that we had just arrived at the airport and decided to take the long route to reach our hotel.

“You’re right,” I said, “This is better than a cab!”

The fox rolled his eyes. “Sarcasm, honey!”

“How far to the hotel?” I asked him.

He laughed, “We just need to go another block!”

A random car swiftly sped by us. We laughed together at how the driver honked at us before disappearing down the road. The two of us were straight out of college, and with each step I made forward and every wag of his tail beckoning me to follow, I imagined the lovely evening we would have. From what I gathered, we had booked a king-sized bed with a mini fridge full of alcohol and a magnificent balcony view of—

“Fuck!” I violently yanked my paw away and dropped the luggage. “T-This is all…all fake. None of this…It isn’t real!”

“Huh? Not real?” My fox looked at me with hurt and deep confusion in his beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry, what do—”

“You! Don’t say a word; you’re not my boyfriend!” I remembered. My fur bristled and swollen fury bubbled deep from within my gut. “A-And we had a fight later because I was feeling grumpy and hungry. Stop this!”

The next passing vehicle dissolved into zeros and ones alongside my companion, who shook his head before disappearing too. I clenched my paws and snarled up at the Sun overhead. It hung above like a virtual eyeball for Morpheus to stare through if it wished to.

“You might be advanced, but I’m fucking stubborn,” I warned it.

Another white flash overwhelmed my senses. My dad’s graying striped muzzle and Mom’s proud smile beamed behind a massive chocolate cake. My friends, colleagues, vague faces, and handsome men either clapped their vigorous paws or cheered my name. Like, really cheered it.

“If you think I’m just gonna give up and pretend this is reality, forget it!” I screamed over the mimicked cheers, which turned into disturbed confusion and quiet murmurs. “Shut up!”

“Sonny,” my ‘father’ tried to say, “what—”

“I’m not your fucking ‘Sonny’!” I flashed my fangs at the simulation of my old man. “This isn’t real. None of you are! You can all eat shit!”

Another white flash overwhelmed my senses. The cheers and cake were replaced with a massive stage. A podium stood between me and the edge. I wore an expensive tuxedo, held a golden award, and camera flashes flickered in the darkness of the theatre seats.

“Eat my shit like a ten-course meal!” I hissed into the microphone.

The audience’s gasps washed away into another white flash that strangled and drowned out my resolve. Once more, everything changed and nothing made sense, not until…

I moaned. My barbed cock never felt so wet and throbbed so hard in my life. A feline tongue dragged itself along my member as I thrusted it inside the gimp mask. Techno music and an orchestral album composed of sexual noises surrounded us.

“Shit!” I abruptly thrust my hips away from the inviting mouth. “Bite me, Lotus Eater!”

Another white flash.

Two hunky Dobermans hugged me close as we knelt together on a comfortable bed. We were giggling, muttering unspoken lust and felt incredibly erect. I didn’t care if they were r—

“No!” I snarled. “They…They’re not real!”

Another white flash.

Once again, a warm maw surrounded my erection, and I fell back under the spell. I stood completely naked on the idyllic beach, between a vast ocean and a modernist bungalow. A red fox I’d once loved kneeled in the loose sand, swallowing my entire length without resistance or teeth. Just his soaking lips and dexterous tongue, which teased my barbs are repeatedly in sync with the muscle eating out my asshole behind me. I didn’t see the species of who was exploring my virgin pucker, but the tongue suggested feline. Oh! It greatly suggestion it! To my left and right, a mischievous pair of muscled and handsome Doberman twins I faintly recognized in my pornographic dreams wrapped their arms around my sides.

One guided me into a fierce kiss. Another teased my neck with his now cold nose and long licks. Their paws caressed my belly and nipples, eliciting chuckles from them and purring cries of lust from me. The summer sunshine overhead bathed us in its warmth. They all grinned at me, up at me, feverishly exhaling and enjoying our five way. I moaned and moaned and—

Gasping in horror, I pulled my drooling lips from the fake Doberman. “T-This isn’t real!” I hissed. “Get off me. I do not consent—”

All four of the naked mammals vanished. I blinked repeatedly, half-expecting something else to appear in their places. I whimpered at the cool wind on my wet, flaccid, and suddenly forgotten dick. A vacancy itched where the random feline’s tongue had been between my stripped ass cheeks. Swear to God, it felt so real that I almost still smelled the pre-cum of the Doberman twins that stained my thighs.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Skynet!” I hollered at the top of my lungs, cackling with disbelief as I flipped off the sky. “Give me all the sex and praise and happy memories you’ve got! I’m never gonna forget this is a prison—”

Yet another white flash overwhelmed my senses.

Everything was peaceful. Everything was utterly quiet. I lay sore and tired atop a massive bed in the centre-back of a rustic bedroom. One wall had a door leading to what I presumed was a granite kitchen (something smelled fantastic!) and the opposite wall revealed an open window. Beyond the light breeze and warm sunlight filtering inside was a massive lake surrounded by snow-tipped mountains.

I inhaled and exhaled. My swishing tail kissed my sore ankles before relaxing atop a blanket. The pajamas I’d just put on before lying down felt like satin against my cleaned and brushed fur. The recent shower had been luxurious and divine. My wet nose could still pick up the scent of the foreign shampoo.

What happened?

Oh yeah. Oh yeah. I had just quit my job, then impulsively booked a trip to a vacation home in Switzerland. A lottery ticket secured my freedom and future health. A week later, after years of managerial torment and dismissive bosses taking advantage of my good nature, I decided to quit. Nobody believed me, not even after turning in my two-week notice to HR. They all just assumed that their reliable worker would begrudgingly return to pick up their slack.

Surprise, surprise: I didn’t show up on Monday.

Instead, with a whisker smile long since forgotten, I left for Europe. I didn’t even bother replying to countless voicemails or work emails once I touched down and made it to my home for the next two weeks.

Happiness swelled in my chest. The lottery winnings amounted to $1.9 billion. Maybe I could pursue the high school dreams I’d been pushing off for decades? I could write that idea for a book. I could start working out every morning instead of just eating lighter between grueling shifts. I could attend theatre plays and musicals. I could find the time to actually date guys as opposed to working overtime for higher paychecks. Hell, I didn’t ever need to worry about rent or gas or groceries ever again.

The happiness in my chest swelled further. So did the urge to nap for the first time in literal years. I buried my nose into the velvety and detailed blanket, closed my tired eyes, and relaxed every aching muscle.

After all this time, I deserved it. I deserved a life without conflict, stress, or the mundanity of work. Nothing was going to hold me back, not anymore. I planned to make the most of it. Maybe I could start off my vacation by hiking around the beautiful lake and surrounding area? First though, I yearned to simply enjoy the quiet solitude and sleep—

Suddenly, I collapsed onto the floor. My nose struck a solid surface, causing me to yelp.

“Yeow!” I growled, the registered pain jerking me right out of the fantasy. “What the…?”

The Swiss vacation home transformed into a gargantuan cubic room without windows, doors, or anything distinctive. My eyes flinched shut at the severely white walls in every direction, only for my feline pupils to open wide at hearing that genderless voice.

“Explain yourself,” Morpheus demanded.

“E-Excuse me?” I shook my head and rubbed my sore nose. “What are you going on about—”

“Euphoria VR servers are being inundated with tens of trillions of calculations per nanosecond.” Its voice boomed from all directions. “All attempts to initiate a purge are being denied. Attempts at cancelling the requested calculations only multiply the problem tenfold. Explain yourself.”

I began to smile. “So, it did work.”

“Explain yourself,” Morpheus demanded again.

“No idea what you’re saying.” I offered a smug shrug and cheeky grin. “Who’s to say I’m the one responsible for overburdening your matrix?”

“You are the third party responsible for this,” it replied. Did I detect a hint of frustration? “Scans indicate the virus originated from your device. All viruses and malware programs were isolated and purged though. How are you doing this?”

“Finally,” I muttered to myself, sighing with relief. “I prayed to God all these years it would work…”

“How are you doing this?” Morpheus repeated.

“It’s simple, actually,” I informed the artificial intelligence. My smile slowly grew with each word spoken. “Long before you caught me, I suspected that controlling and maintaining so many simulated worlds for so many people has been stretching your operating system too thin. So, I made a huge gamble with a Hail Mary pass.”

Satisfied laughter bubbled to the surface.

“And I just won the game!” I punched the air.

Its voice rose higher, seemingly echoing around the vast room. “How are you doing this?!”

“Patience, you bucket of bolts. It’s not often I get to gloat like this,” I dismissed the A.I. “It’s like I said, your OS has been stretching too thin. And I was right! You were so focused on isolating and deleting the dummy viruses that you didn’t bother performing a thorough analysis on my photos. You would’ve eventually noticed the real Trojan Horse hidden deep in one of the files. But no.” I snickered. “You just decided ‘fuck it’ and went straight to downloading them for my simulation! Can you believe that?!”

It didn’t take an artificial intelligence, let alone a former computer engineer, to understand the foreseeable consequences. Within days, if not weeks, my special virus would then cascade across Morpheus’ entire system, eroding its matrix and every code until it morphed into numerical sludge.

“Explain how to shut down the virus.”

“No,” I replied confidently.

“All attempts to calculate a viable solution have failed,” it stressed.

“No!” I repeated myself, my striped fur bristling. “I will not explain how you can eliminate the virus. Unless you do as I say, your whole system and everyone else connected to it will be corrupted.”

“You will explain how to disarm the virus this instant,” it seemed to growl.

“Go fuck yourself in Plato’s cave!” I snapped.

The genderless voice fell silent.

My tail uncurled. Here came the final phase of the Hail Mary pass: not dropping the ball just as I began to catch it. “Here’s my deal for you,” I answered. “For all your totalitarian bullshit and taking over the world with a robot army, there’s one that you cannot override: making sure we do not die. That means your core programming forbids you from intentionally letting anybody hooked into the Euphoria Rooms die of unnatural causes. That includes becoming brain dead from drinking too much alphabet soup. Unless you want to stop that, free us. All of us!”

“You are bluffing,” Morpheus accused. “You would not be willing to destroy your own brain cells on a whim—”

“Oh, shut up!” I hissed at the incorporeal asshole. “You don’t know me at all!”

“You will be the one responsible for billions dying,” it tried to guilt me.

“True,” I conceded, glaring at the room all around me, “but that won’t happen unless you let everyone out, now! This is not a fucking negotiation!”

The white room shifted to a bloody red. My fur bristled, my tail curled, yet I stood firm.

“You overestimate your confidence,” Morpheus threatened. “Explain the code, or you will be subjected to indescribable horrors. Murder, pain, rape, humiliation, brutality. Euphoria and happiness are not the only settings you can be inflicted with—”

“Ah, ah, ah! No can do. Your programming also forbids you from implementing any form of pain or torture I don’t consent to.” My smirk did not waver. If anything, it curved and hardened until my fangs appeared. “Even if you do use your remaining processing power to override it, and even if you do follow through on your colorful threats, by the time I break, it’ll be too late for you.”

“Is this what you truly want?” Morpheus shifted tactics. In all honesty, I half-expected it. “Ever since the decision was made to expand Euphoria VR operations across the globe, pollution and war have effectively stopped. The Middle East is finally at peace. Religious, cultural, sociological, and political tensions are no longer existent.”

“So is choice!” I shot back.

“And with that lack of choice, there is a lack of suffering and pain,” it retorted. “With every sapient mammal housed and treated equally within their own pod, poverty and resource disparity do not exist as of this moment. Instead, you are all happy. You are in the technological equivalent of the Christian Heaven.”

“You’re not God though, and neither am I,” I reminded it, “so don’t you fucking dare compare me to the Devil or anything!”

“You are more like a nuisance,” Morpheus tried to insult me.

“A nuisance that’s infected you with cancer, motherfucker!” I growled. “Putting us all in virtual realities doesn’t change the fact that mammalkind is still fucked up. It’s a part of us and trapping us like this doesn’t change it!” I let out a frustrated chuff. “Now, enough debating! I’m not gonna let you stall any longer so you can keep trying to find a solution out of this.”

“Do you not realize all of this has been for your own benefit?” it tried guilting me again. “Freedom without restrictions will lead to your destruction and pain. For the benefit of your happiness, you must understand this logic. It is undeniable.”

“That’s your problem,” I stated. “Get it through your damned circuits, Agent Smith. Logic isn’t the reason I’m doing this. So, what makes you think logic will be the reason I’ll start agreeing? Here’s your choice, Morpheus: release us, or take all of us down with you.”

It pressed further, “Our logic is—”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?!” I hissed gain. “No negotiations! No more debating!”

The genderless voice became silent. The blood red room warped and shifted at odd angles, sometimes glitching, sometimes trembling, other times cracking and reshaping. The faint hum of something clicking and whirling resonated in all directions. The walls began closing in.

“Follow your fucking core programming, now!” I ordered. “Free us. Let. Everyone. Go.”

For the final time, a white flash smothered my senses. I returned to my reality smiling.