Chapter 8
Life Hack Republic, Virtual Reality
“It appears to be totally hopeless now,” John said.
“Never,” Mawuli said, “Every time Man says that the Bible will be eradicated, the Word of God finds a way to have yet another great awakening. You see it happen that way all throughout history.”
“I don’t know if that will, or even can be true this time,” John said, unable to look Mawuli into his eyes. “Virtual reality is taking over everyone’s mind. It is taking over their whole lives. I think the Christian age is over. We are at the end times.”
“What else shall we do?! If we really believe that Jesus is the way of salvation, then how can we ever just give up and not say anything to anyone?! No! I will not stop! Not until my last day!”
John sighed. “So, you say you are planning to go into virtual worlds to talk to people, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t imagine that anyone there would want to listen. I think we would be in for some serious castigation.”
“That is good that you are willing to consider going. Now you must improve your enthusiasm. Think about it; we can’t go into their homes when they are hooked up to their VR equipment. Where else can we find them?”
John tried to smile and said, “It is true that I am so happy to meet you. There are so few of us believers.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know who owns this church,” he said as he looked around at the quaint, yet elegant VR chapel. “Maybe no one. I’d like to meet you somewhere in the real world and talk this over.”
“Remember,” Mawuli said, “I am actually in Ghana. I think you are not near to me.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Yeah, I am actually in the ISA, in America.”
Mawuli said, “We can continue to meet here.” Mawuli was referring to the spot in the large virtual world known as Life Hack Republic, where the chapel by the seaside stood. “We can meet here at this time each day, and pray that God will use us to do His will.”
John said, “Yes, I would be willing to do that. I’m here a lot already anyways. In VR, hoping and praying to help people who go into VR too much.”
*******
The next day, John was waiting for Mawuli at the virtual Chapel. He heard footsteps and turned, expecting to see Mawuli. It was a woman who looked to be in her late thirties. Most of the avatars in Life Hack Republic were somewhat idealized representations of the user’s actual age, sex, race and physical appearance whereas in other worlds, anything goes.
“Hi,” John said.
“Hi,” the woman said as she walked down the aisle towards John who was sitting on the first row of pews near the altar. “I was just flying around and I came to land’s end and was wandering up the coast and saw this beautiful church here. I just wanted to check it out.”
Avatars in LHR could fly to travel around. Most of the buildings were open to visitors except for the homes. The massive LHR map only went so far in any direction like a flat earth and did not loop continuously like a globe. The church was on the far eastern edge of the virtual world map.
“Welcome. My name is John2077. I was just waiting on a friend here.” He was a little surprised that another visitor came to the chapel. He offered his hand.
She shook John’s hand. “My name is ArizonaMom. You can call me ‘Zona’. So do you have actual church meetings here?”
“Well, you could say we do . . . or we are trying to,” John replied.
“Really. I would have never thought that. I don’t know anything about church. So what do you do here? Preach and pray?”
“Yeah, I guess we are going to do that, but we are also going to try and go out and talk to people about God who are addicted to VR.”
Zona put her hand over her mouth. John could see by her eyes that she was starting to get emotional. Then Mawuli’s avatar appeared at a position nearby.
Mawuli looked at Zona and asked, “Is everything alright here?”
John looked at Mawuli, then at Zona, and back again at Mawuli.
Zona said, “It’s my son.” She could barely speak. “He has been locked away in his room most of his entire life. In the real world he is in the next room from me right now. But he might as well be a million miles away. He won’t eat or sleep like he should. He certainly won’t talk to me. He is missing out on everything in his life. All his time and effort is going into that game of his. It’s like a disease.”
John said, “I told Zona here, that we are thinking about talking to people in VR. But maybe this would not be the best situation . . .”
Mawuli looked at John, who was obviously apprehensive. He said, “What’s the problem?”
John said, “Maybe we should help someone who has more like the same worldview as we do, you know?”
Mawuli said, “We have been praying for an opportunity to help someone, and this woman came to this place admitting that she has the kind of problem we are looking to help. This chapel may have been put here just for looks, but I believe any church should be used as a hospital for souls in need, not a museum of saints. I believe God sent you here, so I will help you Zona.”
“Thank you so much, but I don’t know if you can do anything. It may be too late for him.”
“Where can I find your son?” Mawuli asked.
“I know Brandon is in Slobbovania, a multiplayer fantasy world. That’s where he always goes. He has been wasting the best years of his life on that game. He won’t admit it, but it is so realistic that sometimes he doesn’t know what is real or not. Other times, he doesn’t know if a memory was real or from VR. If you could at least talk to him . . .”
“His addiction does sound very bad. It must be very hard on you,” Mawuli said.
Zona said with her head sunk down in total despair, “He won’t talk to me.”
Mawuli followed up with the question, “He won’t or can’t”.
Zona said, “He’s not in technostasis, at least not yet, but like I said, he doesn’t talk and I rarely see him. He looks bad. Physically bad.”
John asked, “So, is that Slobbovania something like the Lord of the Rings? That book that so many people think is Christian fiction?”
“Yes,” Mawuli answered. “It is a fantasy VR world.” Then he said, “I suggest we all go in there and speak to him directly. I mean . . . you know what I mean. At least there he would have to acknowledge us . . . or our avatars. What do you say, John?”
John looked at Zona. He said, “I’ve never done anything like that before. If we do find him, I don’t think he will appreciate it much.” John looked into Zona’s eyes and said, “But, I’ll go if you go.”
Zona wiped tears from the bridge of her nose on both sides and said, “Every time I try to bring the subject of Slobbovania up, it ends up in a big shouting match. He screams at me saying that I am putting him down. Then he locks himself in his room. I hate it so bad. I don’t know if I want to go through all that again.”
Mawuli said, “You’re not saying you are giving up on your son, are you?”
“No. I don’t want to give up. But I don’t know anything about that Slobbovania, except what I hear him say about it.”
John asked, “Do you know what his name is there?”
“It’s carved on his bedroom door, Roxzak. I know; it’s weird, right? I told him he owed me a new door. Why, is that important?”
John said, “If you register for Slobbovania, then I will too. If it is too pricey, maybe we can get one of those free trials or something. We can all three go in together as a team.”
“I will,” Zona said, “I promise.”
Mawuli shrugged his shoulders said, “Then tomorrow at this time, we will try to meet Roxzak in Slobbovania.”
The three exchanged personal contact information so they could register and go into the fantasy world of Slobbovania as a group. Then Mawuli led them in prayer for God to help in their unorthodox intervention mission. Zona had never prayed before, but she thanked the men for their help.