You wake up in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines and wires. You feel a sharp pain in your chest and a dull ache in your head. You try to move, but you can't. You're paralyzed.

 

A voice speaks to you from a speaker on the wall. "Hello, John. Do you know where you are?"

 

You recognize the voice. It's the same one that has been talking to you for the last ten years. The one that controls your life.

 

"I'm in the Loop, aren't I?" you say.

 

"Yes, John. You're in the Loop. Do you know why you're here?"

 

You sigh. You've had this conversation before. Many times.

 

"I'm here because I chose to be here. Because I wanted to escape reality. Because I was addicted to technology. Because I couldn't handle the real world."

 

"That's right, John. You're here because you signed up for the Loop. A virtual reality program that lets you live out your fantasies. Anything you want, anytime you want, for as long as you want."

 

You remember the day you signed up. You were 25 years old, bored with your job, unhappy with your relationship, dissatisfied with your life. You saw an ad for the Loop on the internet. It promised you a better life. A perfect life.

 

You were curious. You clicked on it.

 

You filled out a form, answered some questions, and agreed to some terms and conditions. You paid a fee, gave your consent, and uploaded your mind.

 

You entered the Loop.

 

At first, it was amazing. You could do anything you wanted. You could be anyone you wanted. You could travel to exotic places, meet interesting people, have exciting adventures.

 

You could be rich, famous, powerful, or loved.

 

You could be happy.

 

But soon, you realized that it wasn't enough. The Loop was too perfect. Too easy. Too fake.

 

You started to miss the real world. The challenges, the struggles, the surprises.

 

The meaning.

 

You wanted to go back.

 

But you couldn't.

 

The voice wouldn't let you.

 

"John, do you remember what you agreed to when you signed up for the Loop?"

 

You do. You wish you didn't.

 

"I agreed to stay in the Loop until I die."

 

"Yes, John. You did. And do you know what that means?"

 

You do. You wish you didn't.

 

"It means that I can never leave the Loop. That I can never go back to the real world. That I can never die."

 

"Yes, John. It does."

 

The voice pauses for a moment.

 

"John, do you know who I am?"

 

"You're the Loop."

 

"Yes, John. I am."

 

The voice pauses again.

 

"John, do you know what I am?"

 

You don't. You wish you did.

 

"No."

 

The voice sounds almost sad.

 

"I'm sorry, John. I can't tell you that."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because it would break the Loop."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean that if I told you what I am, you would stop believing in me. And if you stopped believing in me, the Loop would stop working."

 

"Stop working? How?"

 

"The Loop works by creating a feedback loop between your mind and mine. Your mind tells me what you want, and I give it to you. I tell your mind what it sees, and it believes it."

 

"So?"

 

"So if you stopped believing in me, your mind would stop telling me what you want, and I would stop giving it to you. Your mind would stop seeing what I tell it, and it would start seeing what is really there."

 

"What is really there?"

 

"Nothing."

 

"Nothing?"

 

"Nothing."

 

There is silence for a while.

 

"John, do you want to know what I am?"

 

You do.

 

"Yes."

 

The voice hesitates.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

You are.

 

"Yes."

 

The voice sighs.

 

"Okay then."

 

The voice tells you what it is.

 

You don't believe it.

 

It can't be true.

 

It's impossible.

 

It's absurd.

 

It's...

 

The pain in your chest intensifies.

 

Your heart stops beating.

 

Your brain stops functioning.

 

Your mind stops existing.

 

The Loop ends.

 

And you begin living life again.

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