The bunker is an open and cluttered, self-sustaining refuge with a central garden lit by artificial sunlight, growing herbs and small crops that soften the sterile air. Nearby, a soundproofed generator room hums with essential machinery. The kitchen and living area combine function and comfort, with a compact stove, small fridge, a circular couch surrounding the garden, and a heater. The room over contained a large desk with a multitude of monitors, cables hanging from the ceiling and a very large bed taking up half the space. Its all light by soft dim ambient lighting.

Sitting in a room of it's own, the vr chair was a terrifying contraption, one he had built himself. Though it resembled a chair, it had the ominous look of an electric chair, with countless wires branching from it, some of them appearing to plug directly into his skin. On his head was a hybrid of a VR headset and a dirt bike helmet, strapped tightly, its “hair” made of thick cables that extended upward to the ceiling. Automated metal shackles clamped around his wrists and ankles.

Whatever this setup was, it was meticulously engineered to emulate the outside world as closely as possible, though comfort was clearly an afterthought.

With this contraption, his senses were transported into a holographic body, projected by a group of drones. 3 drones to project the image of the body, 1 drone for sensory input such as temperature or smell and lastly 3 drones to pick stuff up.

Across the cold countryside of Latvia, a flickering holographic display of a frail boy walked through the wheat field, his steps leaving no trace on the crop. The loud, whipping winds of the cold September weather nearly drowned out the soft whirr of the drone situated within the head of the hologram.

He moved carefully, his slender form standing in stark contrast to the desolate landscape. The hologram occasionally glitched, the signal wavering but never failing.