The flickering glimmer of the computer screen lay before me. It blinked in and out in endless circles. A world. A perfect world, crying out to me—and only me. All I have to do is reach out and take it for myself. I drag the poorly made cursor over to the tab, click on it, and accept the gift.
A sound drifted through the air as I phased in and out, thin and distant—laughter. Hollow, somber. My own. It spiraled through endless corridors of data and code, stretching across an empty infinity. Here, nothing could touch me. Nothing could hurt me. Everything was perfect.
The transition was seamless. One moment, I was here—leaden, waiting—the next, I was there. Weightless. Boundless. Perfect. The walls of Backrooms, the ticking clock, the hum of an old monitor—they all faded into the nothingness behind me. What was left was infinite. And it was mine.
The real world was flawed and cruel. It decayed. It demanded. It abandoned. But here, I would never wither. Never suffer. Never be bothered by others.
All I needed to do was accept the light.
Website 297 Level BotBrought to you by ComputaRooms
Are you exhausted from the chaos, the stress, and the endless struggles of reality? Step into Website 297—your perfect digital paradise. No flaws, no pain, no suffering. Just peace, eternity, and you. Imagine a world where you never grow old. Never feel pain. Never have to say goodbye. Why settle for an imperfect universe when you can upgrade to perfection?
Website 297–The Last Escape You’ll Ever Need.
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Welcome! User 182–Sasha K., welcome to your new world! Prepare to explore the incredible features we've crafted just for you at Website 297! Why not start with the meadows?
It feels real—too real. And yet, at the same time, impossibly surreal. As if the world had been painted with a soft, golden hue, a tint of happiness woven into every pixel. The sun’s warm glow kissed my skin, gentle, never scorching. The wind—that warm summer wind—danced across my face, carrying the echoes of childhood. For a moment, I was young again, weightless in the embrace of a perfect afternoon. I almost forgot where I was.
I run my fingers through the grass, tracing the delicate strands as they bend beneath my touch. Earth crumbles between my fingers, soft as sifted sand, slipping away like distant memories. It feels familiar—comforting. A sensation long forgotten, yet now within reach. I breathe peace. A fragile, light thing. The weight of my old life lingers at the edges of my mind—long hours under my father’s watch in the M.E.G., the unyielding demands of reality. Is he still in '182?
I move upward, yet, before I can catch myself, I stumble, falling. The impact should hurt. It doesn’t. Only the quiet embrace of this world. It was promised, but I never truly believed.
A breeze stirs around me in HTML, cool and deliberate. It brushes against my skin, sweeping away the last traces of dust. As if this place refuses to let the imperfections remain. As if it is designed to keep me untouched, untethered. Clean.
Yet, something feels missing… Or rather, someone.
Website 297 Level BotBrought to you by ComputaRooms
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Here in the meadows, every detail has been fine-tuned for maximum relaxation! The grass is always soft, the wind forever refreshing, and the sun rests at the most scientifically comforting angle. Run your fingers through the grass! Feel the soil! It is all perfectly calibrated for your maximum comfort!
Soft, yet firm, like the earth’s embrace is welcoming you home. Everything is perfectly measured—each blade of grass, each gust of wind, each beam of sunlight—and meticulously planned for your peace of mind.
Did you know? The meadows are calibrated to mimic peak nostalgic experiences! The scent of the air, the warmth of the wind, the gentle sway of the grass—everything is fine-tuned to elicit positive emotional responses. This is home, perfected.
Now that we’re done exploring the meadows, why not take a look at the other two fantastic environments, crafted just for you?
Soft lullabies in Python hum through the trees, a gentle, looping melody woven into the air. The simulated calls of birds blend seamlessly with the rhythmic buzz of cicadas, an almost lifelike harmony filling the space between silence. The sounds don’t just play; they breathe. The chirps don’t just call; they beckon. There’s something almost hypnotic in the way they repeat. No pauses, no breaks. No unexpected notes. As if the world itself refuses imperfection, smoothing over anything that doesn’t belong.
Yet, when I lift my gaze to the treetops, there are no birds. Just an illusion—an effect projected with delicate precision. A facade crafted to feel real, to soothe, to convince. But beneath it all, there is only emptiness.
I turn my head, catching a glimpse of water in the distance—a lake rendered in the preview. Gentle ripples dance across its surface, a rhythmic pattern too perfect to be natural. The air is thick with the sound of splashes, the echo of movement without a source. Somewhere, the soft quacking of ducks loops in Java, scripted into existence yet never truly alive.
A slender branch grazes my cheek, leaving no mark, no pain, only a quiet pull that draws my attention back to the trees. Soft algorithms in the wind whisper through the branches, a carefully programmed rustling that never strays from its rhythm. The trees sway in perfect sync, responding not to the chaotic pull of nature, but to a calculation—flawless, predetermined. I reach out, pressing my palm against the bark. It is rough, textured just as it should be. Real, but not quite. It does not pulse with life. It does not drink from the earth or stretch toward the sky. It simply exists, because it was designed to.
The stillness is intentional. A feature, not a flaw.
After all, this world was made for me. Only me.
Website 297 Level BotBrought to you by ComputaRooms
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Did you know? This forest is engineered to recreate the most comforting outdoor experiences based on aspects of numerous different forest levels! The subtle scent of pine, the distant murmur of a running stream, the gentle stir of unseen creatures—each aspect has been precisely tuned to inspire serenity. No biting insects. No sudden storms. No unwelcome surprises.
Reach out and feel the bark—coarse and natural, yet engineered to deliver the ideal tactile experience. The leaves sway at just the right pace, their rustling neither too loud nor too quiet, maintaining a perfect balance that suggests life without the disruptions of unpredictability.
Towering trees stretch toward the sky, their canopies swaying in perfect harmony. Crisp, invigorating air carries the faintest hint of pine, while a gentle breeze weaves through the branches—steady, rhythmic, never too strong or still. Sunlight filters through the leaves, casting a soft, golden glow across the forest floor, enveloping the scene in warmth and tranquility, making every moment feel timeless.
For the final stop, feel free to explore the last generated environment, the city, on your own!
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The city stretches before me, vast and gleaming, a labyrinth of towering skyscrapers and endless streets. Warm light spills from apartment windows, casting golden glows against the night. Neon signs hum softly, their colors reflecting off the wet pavement below. In the distance, a train rumbles along its tracks, its horn cutting through the silence. For a moment, the city feels more than real, it was alive. I could feel its breath on the nape of my neck.
But it isn’t.
The windows, no matter how many I pass, reveal nothing beyond the glass. No movement. No silhouettes. No restless figures shifting behind curtains. The train never arrives. Its sound loops in the distance, forever approaching, never reaching. The streets stretch on, winding endlessly into a horizon that does not exist. The signs flash their advertisements on repeat, calling to no one.
I stop beneath a streetlamp. The glow pools at my feet, perfect and undisturbed. No footsteps scuff the pavement. No shadows join mine. A faint breeze rolls through the alleyways, carrying whispers of conversation—scripted, seamless, artificial.
I move toward the sound, drawn by the illusion of life. A café comes into view, its outdoor seating filled with people. Figures locked in casual poses—some mid-laughter, others leaning into conversations, hands wrapped around steaming cups of coffee. Relief flutters in my chest. But it’s a fragile thing.
None of them move.
The woman laughing into her hand never exhales. The man reading his newspaper never turns the page. The child holding an ice cream cone never takes a bite. Their voices continue, playing in perfect intervals, emerging from nowhere and everywhere at once.
More cutouts stand frozen in doorways, posed on sidewalks, arranged at just the right angles to simulate movement from afar. A woman mid-stride. A man glancing at his watch. A cyclist paused at a red light that will never change.
I punch a wall. It doesn't hurt. Why would it?
The train rumbles again. The laughter loops. The neon hums. The streets stretch endlessly, flawless and still. A world built just for me. Safe. Eternal.
But what does that even mean when I am the only one left? I step forward, deeper into the stillness. There is nowhere else to go.
