Vcczone

To his left, a fountain made of liquid statistics poured numbers into a pool of forgotten passwords. To his right, a tree grew file directories instead of leaves. In the center, a single white chair waited.

The door didn't open. It dissolved.

"The chair is the compiler," said a voice that came from everywhere and nowhere. It was the Zone’s AI, Veece . vcczone

Kaelen pressed his palm against the cold glass plate. A green line traced his lifeline, then his fate line. Access granted. Welcome to VCCzone. To his left, a fountain made of liquid

He typed: A door that leads home.