Brambles caught at his clothes and his hair, making him run even faster. He had, he reckoned, about a minute to escape the ‘imaginary’ forest before the algorithm sensed his living, breathing warmth and did… whatever it did.
He knew his own pigheadedness had brought him to this, but, hey, who believed in artificial reality? Outside of a few pimply geeks. And maybe him. Now.
His legs tried to buckle under him, but he kept running, impelled by sheer force of will.
Just as he thought he could run no longer, he saw the fracture.
He gathered himself. And jumped…