Zac's consciousness emerged from the darkness with a sensation he hadn't experienced in years: pain. Not the carefully calibrated discomfort of a high-intensity Zenith experience program, but raw, glitching neural feedback that shot through his digital body, emulating a nervous system in a twisted was.
"System status," he commanded through gritted teeth, his avatar manifesting in what appeared to be a stark, grid-lined space with none of the lush rendering he was accustomed to. The colours were muted and the resolution was noticeably degraded, all premium perks he has taken for granted thus far.
No response came.
"System status," he repeated more forcefully.
"Limited functionality available," replied a voice that sounded like a degraded version of Zenith's system AI. "User Zach Voss: Allocated resources at minimum threshold. Premium features unavailable. Administrative privileges revoked."
So this was the limited server, the digital equivalent of prison for uploaded consciousnesses who violated Zenith protocols. He'd heard rumors about it but never imagined experiencing it firsthand.
"Diana? Luna?" he called out.
Slowly, two forms materialized nearby. Diana's elderly avatar appeared first, even more fragmented than before, pieces of her digital self seeming to drift and then snap back into place. Luna followed, her once-perfect avatar now stripped of its enhanced features, revealing a more human-like appearance, she seemed much less appealing without all the enhancements that were for the truly privileged personnel of Zenith
"What is this place?" Luna asked, her voice occasionally skipping like a damaged audio file.
"The limited server," Diana replied, her medical knowledge evident in her calm assessment. "Designed to maintain consciousness without comfort. They've reduced our processing allocation to the bare minimum required for continuity of self."
Zac attempted to modify their environment, trying to create a simple chair to sit on. Nothing happened.
"Not even a chair?," he gasped.
"Can we communicate with the outside?" Luna asked, panic edging into her voice. "With the main Zenith network? With... with anyone?"
Zac shook his head. "I doubt it. The limited server is designed for isolation. No external communication, no environment control, no pleasurable sensations." He looked around at the bare digital landscape. "Just existence."
"This is evidently even worse than even the lowest standard tier." Diana observed, her fractured avatar somehow managing to look contemplative. "Many uploaded souls would consider this worse than death."
"It's temporary," Zac insisted, though with less confidence than he wished. "Li can't keep us here forever. I still own shares in Luminex Systems, I am an important board member, many people know me."
"Your shares are worthless here," a new voice interrupted.
All three turned to see another avatar approaching—an older man with a professor's bearing, his digital form showing the same degradation as theirs.
"Professor Marcus Chen," the man introduced himself with a slight bow. "Former developer for Luminex, before I suggested that perhaps immortality shouldn't be restricted to the wealthy. Been here about three years, by my calculation."
Luna's avatar seemed to pale further. "Three years? In... in this?"
"It gets worse," Professor Chen said, gesturing for them to follow. "Come. I am not the only one."