Alice in the World of VR

Alice was a smart girl. In fact, she was always at the top of her class. And she always finished her schoolwork early. She even had the nickname “nerd” among her classmates. But Alice didn’t care. She accepted that name and took the time back to play on the school’s iPad in the corner while the rest of the students finished their schoolwork. They never got iPad time, Alice thought with a sly smile.

It was on this particularly hard day of class (still easy for Alice) that something rather strange happened. It started off normal, but did not finish quite as so.

Alice asked her teacher if she could play on the iPad.

“Only until the other students finish their work. Quietly.” Mrs. Kings replied. She waved Alice off to the corner. Alice nodded and followed the wave.

She sat down in her baby blue collared shirt, black slacks, and black closed-toed shoes. It was the standard uniform, though she would have preferred to wear a dress.

No matter, Alice settled herself among the pillows, on the rug in the corner of the room, and smiled again. Finally, she thought. Another day to dive into the world of the internet. It was her favorite time of the day since her mother did not let her go on the internet when she was at home.

At home, she was expected to play outside, read, take dance lessons, and attend tennis practice. She did not like tennis. But that was the proper thing to do. Alice wasn’t always proper, which seemed to get her into quite some trouble. But she did love to learn about new worlds. Geography was her favorite subject. And chess was her favorite game.

Looking at the search bar, thinking, ‘Where should I learn about today?’, she saw a strange notification.

“Follow me @TheWhiteRabbit_002.”

“That is intriguing.” Alice found herself speaking out loud. Children turned to her. Mrs. King put a finger to her lips. Alice nodded.

She looked at the clock at the front of the room. Only an hour of class was left, and over half the students were still working. They would not finish.

Intrigued, Alice shrugged and clicked the name. Where could this go? She thought. She knew better to speak out loud again.

Suddenly, the iPad glitched. The screen went black, and a small icon resembling a rabbit hopped across it.

The screen glitched again, there was a flash, and Alice was suddenly on the iPad. Wow!

Really, she was facing out at a big screen that showed her face in the classroom, staring into it, her eyes following the rabbit hopping on the screen.

What a peculiar place, Alice thought. Oh, wait, she could talk out loud now!

She looked around, looking for any clue about where she was.

“What a wonder…” she started out loud when a white rabbit, a digital rabbit, hopped past her with a USB drive with a timer on it.

“You must plug in the drive before the time runs out, or else!” the digital rabbit cried out. He hopped off in a cyborg-like helmet, its white ears sticking out, racing down a conveyor belt.

Quicky and without thinking, Alice followed the white, digital rabbit.

Down, down, down.

The conveyor belt kept moving in a downward-shifting digital landscape. There was a partially eaten apple. Alice tried to grab it but missed it. The landscape turned neon colors, like a cyber-lit cyber city.

“Must plug in before times, my sin!” The white digital rabbit called out and suddenly jumped off the conveyor belt and scrammed off.

“Oh no, wait for me!” Alice called after it. She jumped off as quickly as she could after it, only to trip and tumble into a pile of green digital letters and numbers.

“What am I to do here?” She whispered to herself, unsure where to go or what to do. She was lost in a virtual reality she knew nothing about.

“Ha, ho, hu,” a voice echoed around her. Alice turned her head, right to left, then left to right, until she finally found its maker. It was… a caterpillar? A pixelated caterpillar.

“Who are you?” Alice asked.

The pixelated caterpillar shook its body and more green letters and numbers came scrambling off its abdomen.

“To find the screen, find code in green. The screen is mean, but the green is clean.” It spoke in riddles. It twisted its body until each pixelated piece dissipated. The last thing Alice saw was two letters L, facing one another, forming a coded smile.

“A riddle. But whatever could it mean?” Alice looked around. The green digital letters and numbers were scattered all around her. “Clean… Clean…” she repeated. She had to clean her room, even the classroom, from time to time. “Do I clean them up? Put them in a pile?”

Alice rushed to clean it up. She grabbed all the green letters as much as she could. And she did this for however long it took until all the green letters and numbers were in a pile. But nothing happened.

“Clean. Green. Code?” She spoke out loud, her face flushing. Her eyes watering. “What am I to do? I am only so much old. What could it mean to find the code.” She was flustered.

Alice looked at the pile, unable to find any word that stood out to her.

“The screen is mean. But who was the screen?”

She pulled out the letters S-C-R-E-E-N. But nothing happened. What was supposed to happen?

“But the green is clean. Clean.” She cleaned up, but nothing happened. So, instead, she found the letters C-L-E-A-N.

And just like that, the codes started glitching, like the screen she saw on her iPad. Then, in order, the coded word bounced pixelated away.

Not knowing what else to do or where to go, she followed the word clean.

Another shift in the digital shifting landscape, and she was face to face with a little digital man, scrambling around a room full of white and black boxes. The mad digital man turned to face Alice. “Can I help you?”

Alice took a step forward hesitantly, glancing at the small digital man frantically moving between the white and black boxes. The room itself pulsed with a dim glow, the walls shifting like ripples on a screen. The boxes, Alice realized, were not just sitting there—they were changing, flickering between on and off states as if they were portals or doors.

“Yes, I think so,” Alice answered, straightening herself up. “I am trying to find a white rabbit who needs to plug in a USB drive before the time runs out. Have you seen such a rabbit.”

The little digital man paused and looked up at her, his eyes nothing but two blinking cursors. “The White Rabbit? Oh dear, oh no, he’s in the Mainframe! If you don’t plug in that drive soon, the entire system could crash.” He twitched nervously, his hands tapping at the air as if interacting with an invisible keyboard.

“Well then, where is the Mainframe?” Alice asked, glancing at the shifting boxes around her.

The little digital man gulped and pointed toward the farthest end of the room, where a single large black-and-white portal shimmered. “Through there, but it’s guarded by the Firewall Queen. She doesn’t let anyone through unless they answer her security questions correctly.”

Alice took a deep breath. A challenge. She was always good at tests, but this was unlike anything she had faced before.

“Alright, take me to her.” She demanded, but he hesitated.

“Who may I ask you be?”

“Well, I am Alice, of course. And who are you?”

“The mad developer… of course. Now, are you sure you want me to take you?” So he was mad.

“Of course. I must help the rabbit.” He looked at her like he wasn’t sure she wasn’t mad either.

The mad developer led Alice toward the portal, which expanded as she approached. As soon as she stepped through, she found herself in a grand chamber filled with hovering red firewalls, blocking every visible exit. At the center of the room sat a tall figure made entirely of glowing red data streams. Her eyes flickered, scanning Alice up and down.

“Who dares enter my domain?” the Firewall Queen boomed, her voice vibrating like distorted audio.

Alice squared her shoulders. “I’m Alice. I need to get to the Mainframe.”

The Firewall Queen let out a digital chuckle. “Not without proving your worth. Answer my security questions correctly or be locked out of the system forever!”

Alice gulped but nodded. “Alright. I’m ready.”

The Firewall Queen lifted a hand, and glowing text appeared in midair. “First question: What is the key to getting into a system?”

Alice furrowed her brow, recalling the only thing she knew to do for any electronic system, including the iPad. “A password, of course,” she guessed. The Queen boomed out loud and looked around frantically as if someone had cheated and given her the answer.

“Now, how did you know THAT!” But she did not let Alice answer and instead shook her head before speaking again. “Next question: Why would one have a firewall?”

Alice grinned. That was simple. She was old enough to decipher the two words: fire means flames rising, and wall meant to keep things out. Of course, she knew this one. “To protect a network with security so as not to be hacked.” She had a friend in class who loved talking about how computers got hacked.

The firewalls flickered, some of them lowering. The Queen’s eyes widened. “Final question: What is the safest way to store a password?”

Alice thought for a moment. She knew saving them in a document was unsafe, and writing them down was also risky. Her mother told her never to share a password. She said that a password was like a secret—meant for one person to know only. “Never share your password. Keep it in your mind.”

The Firewall Queen let out a loud roar, louder than a dragon’s flare. But suddenly, all the firewalls dissipated. She waved a hand at Alice like she did not want to see her anymore. It was the same wave of a hand that Mrs. King did to her earlier. Or later. She wasn’t sure what time it was in this odd, digitized world. “You have passed. Proceed to the Mainframe.”

Alice didn’t wait to be told twice. She sprinted through the now open path and found herself in a massive circular room filled with floating screens and cables. In the center stood the White Rabbit, frantically trying to insert the USB drive into a glowing terminal. The timer on the drive was blinking dangerously close to zero.

“Alice!” the white digital rabbit gasped. “You made it just in time! Quick, help me stabilize the connection!”

Alice rushed forward, scanning the various ports. “Which one do I use?” she asked.

“The green one!” the Rabbit shouted.

Alice plugged in the USB drive without hesitation, and the entire system shuddered. Data streams realigned, screens flashed, and suddenly, everything froze—then rebooted. The neon lights softened, the chaotic glitches settled, and a gentle hum filled the air.

“You did it!” the white digital rabbit cheered. “The system is back to normal!”

Alice felt a strange pulling sensation. The world around her began to blur, just like when she had first been sucked into the iPad. “Wait! What’s happening?” she asked.

The white digital rabbit smiled. “You’re logging out.”

Before she could protest, everything went dark.

Alice blinked and found herself back in the classroom, the iPad in her hands, her classmates still finishing their work. She looked around, her heart racing. Had it all been real? Her fingers hovered over the screen. The strange notification was gone.

But as she placed the iPad down, a single message flashed briefly before disappearing: “Welcome back anytime, @User_Alice.”

Alice smiled. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be her last adventure in the world of VR.

Alice was a smart girl. In fact, she was always at the top of her class. And she always finished her schoolwork early. She even had the nickname “nerd” among her classmates. But Alice didn’t care. She accepted that name and took the time back to play on the school’s iPad in the corner while the rest of the students finished their schoolwork. They never got iPad time, Alice thought with a sly smile.

It was on this particularly hard day of class (still easy for Alice) that something rather strange happened. It started off normal, but did not finish quite as so.

Alice asked her teacher if she could play on the iPad.

“Only until the other students finish their work. Quietly.” Mrs. Kings replied. She waved Alice off to the corner. Alice nodded and followed the wave.

She sat down in her baby blue collared shirt, black slacks, and black closed-toed shoes. It was the standard uniform, though she would have preferred to wear a dress.

No matter, Alice settled herself among the pillows, on the rug in the corner of the room, and smiled again. Finally, she thought. Another day to dive into the world of the internet. It was her favorite time of the day since her mother did not let her go on the internet when she was at home.

At home, she was expected to play outside, read, take dance lessons, and attend tennis practice. She did not like tennis. But that was the proper thing to do. Alice wasn’t always proper, which seemed to get her into quite some trouble. But she did love to learn about new worlds. Geography was her favorite subject. And chess was her favorite game.

Looking at the search bar, thinking, ‘Where should I learn about today?’, she saw a strange notification.

“Follow me @TheWhiteRabbit_002.”

“That is intriguing.” Alice found herself speaking out loud. Children turned to her. Mrs. King put a finger to her lips. Alice nodded.

She looked at the clock at the front of the room. Only an hour of class was left, and over half the students were still working. They would not finish.

Intrigued, Alice shrugged and clicked the name. Where could this go? She thought. She knew better to speak out loud again.

Suddenly, the iPad glitched. The screen went black, and a small icon resembling a rabbit hopped across it.

The screen glitched again, there was a flash, and Alice was suddenly on the iPad. Wow!

Really, she was facing out at a big screen that showed her face in the classroom, staring into it, her eyes following the rabbit hopping on the screen.

What a peculiar place, Alice thought. Oh, wait, she could talk out loud now!

She looked around, looking for any clue about where she was.

“What a wonder…” she started out loud when a white rabbit, a digital rabbit, hopped past her with a USB drive with a timer on it.

“You must plug in the drive before the time runs out, or else!” the digital rabbit cried out. He hopped off in a cyborg-like helmet, its white ears sticking out, racing down a conveyor belt.

Quicky and without thinking, Alice followed the white, digital rabbit.

Down, down, down.

The conveyor belt kept moving in a downward-shifting digital landscape. There was a partially eaten apple. Alice tried to grab it but missed it. The landscape turned neon colors, like a cyber-lit cyber city.

“Must plug in before times, my sin!” The white digital rabbit called out and suddenly jumped off the conveyor belt and scrammed off.

“Oh no, wait for me!” Alice called after it. She jumped off as quickly as she could after it, only to trip and tumble into a pile of green digital letters and numbers.

“What am I to do here?” She whispered to herself, unsure where to go or what to do. She was lost in a virtual reality she knew nothing about.

“Ha, ho, hu,” a voice echoed around her. Alice turned her head, right to left, then left to right, until she finally found its maker. It was… a caterpillar? A pixelated caterpillar.

“Who are you?” Alice asked.

The pixelated caterpillar shook its body and more green letters and numbers came scrambling off its abdomen.

“To find the screen, find code in green. The screen is mean, but the green is clean.” It spoke in riddles. It twisted its body until each pixelated piece dissipated. The last thing Alice saw was two letters L, facing one another, forming a coded smile.

“A riddle. But whatever could it mean?” Alice looked around. The green digital letters and numbers were scattered all around her. “Clean… Clean…” she repeated. She had to clean her room, even the classroom, from time to time. “Do I clean them up? Put them in a pile?”

Alice rushed to clean it up. She grabbed all the green letters as much as she could. And she did this for however long it took until all the green letters and numbers were in a pile. But nothing happened.

“Clean. Green. Code?” She spoke out loud, her face flushing. Her eyes watering. “What am I to do? I am only so much old. What could it mean to find the code.” She was flustered.

Alice looked at the pile, unable to find any word that stood out to her.

“The screen is mean. But who was the screen?”

She pulled out the letters S-C-R-E-E-N. But nothing happened. What was supposed to happen?

“But the green is clean. Clean.” She cleaned up, but nothing happened. So, instead, she found the letters C-L-E-A-N.

And just like that, the codes started glitching, like the screen she saw on her iPad. Then, in order, the coded word bounced pixelated away.

Not knowing what else to do or where to go, she followed the word clean.

Another shift in the digital shifting landscape, and she was face to face with a little digital man, scrambling around a room full of white and black boxes. The mad digital man turned to face Alice. “Can I help you?”

Alice took a step forward hesitantly, glancing at the small digital man frantically moving between the white and black boxes. The room itself pulsed with a dim glow, the walls shifting like ripples on a screen. The boxes, Alice realized, were not just sitting there—they were changing, flickering between on and off states as if they were portals or doors.

“Yes, I think so,” Alice answered, straightening herself up. “I am trying to find a white rabbit who needs to plug in a USB drive before the time runs out. Have you seen such a rabbit.”

The little digital man paused and looked up at her, his eyes nothing but two blinking cursors. “The White Rabbit? Oh dear, oh no, he’s in the Mainframe! If you don’t plug in that drive soon, the entire system could crash.” He twitched nervously, his hands tapping at the air as if interacting with an invisible keyboard.

“Well then, where is the Mainframe?” Alice asked, glancing at the shifting boxes around her.

The little digital man gulped and pointed toward the farthest end of the room, where a single large black-and-white portal shimmered. “Through there, but it’s guarded by the Firewall Queen. She doesn’t let anyone through unless they answer her security questions correctly.”

Alice took a deep breath. A challenge. She was always good at tests, but this was unlike anything she had faced before.

“Alright, take me to her.” She demanded, but he hesitated.

“Who may I ask you be?”

“Well, I am Alice, of course. And who are you?”

“The mad developer… of course. Now, are you sure you want me to take you?” So he was mad.

“Of course. I must help the rabbit.” He looked at her like he wasn’t sure she wasn’t mad either.

The mad developer led Alice toward the portal, which expanded as she approached. As soon as she stepped through, she found herself in a grand chamber filled with hovering red firewalls, blocking every visible exit. At the center of the room sat a tall figure made entirely of glowing red data streams. Her eyes flickered, scanning Alice up and down.

“Who dares enter my domain?” the Firewall Queen boomed, her voice vibrating like distorted audio.

Alice squared her shoulders. “I’m Alice. I need to get to the Mainframe.”

The Firewall Queen let out a digital chuckle. “Not without proving your worth. Answer my security questions correctly or be locked out of the system forever!”

Alice gulped but nodded. “Alright. I’m ready.”

The Firewall Queen lifted a hand, and glowing text appeared in midair. “First question: What is the key to getting into a system?”

Alice furrowed her brow, recalling the only thing she knew to do for any electronic system, including the iPad. “A password, of course,” she guessed. The Queen boomed out loud and looked around frantically as if someone had cheated and given her the answer.

“Now, how did you know THAT!” But she did not let Alice answer and instead shook her head before speaking again. “Next question: Why would one have a firewall?”

Alice grinned. That was simple. She was old enough to decipher the two words: fire means flames rising, and wall meant to keep things out. Of course, she knew this one. “To protect a network with security so as not to be hacked.” She had a friend in class who loved talking about how computers got hacked.

The firewalls flickered, some of them lowering. The Queen’s eyes widened. “Final question: What is the safest way to store a password?”

Alice thought for a moment. She knew saving them in a document was unsafe, and writing them down was also risky. Her mother told her never to share a password. She said that a password was like a secret—meant for one person to know only. “Never share your password. Keep it in your mind.”

The Firewall Queen let out a loud roar, louder than a dragon’s flare. But suddenly, all the firewalls dissipated. She waved a hand at Alice like she did not want to see her anymore. It was the same wave of a hand that Mrs. King did to her earlier. Or later. She wasn’t sure what time it was in this odd, digitized world. “You have passed. Proceed to the Mainframe.”

Alice didn’t wait to be told twice. She sprinted through the now open path and found herself in a massive circular room filled with floating screens and cables. In the center stood the White Rabbit, frantically trying to insert the USB drive into a glowing terminal. The timer on the drive was blinking dangerously close to zero.

“Alice!” the white digital rabbit gasped. “You made it just in time! Quick, help me stabilize the connection!”

Alice rushed forward, scanning the various ports. “Which one do I use?” she asked.

“The green one!” the Rabbit shouted.

Alice plugged in the USB drive without hesitation, and the entire system shuddered. Data streams realigned, screens flashed, and suddenly, everything froze—then rebooted. The neon lights softened, the chaotic glitches settled, and a gentle hum filled the air.

“You did it!” the white digital rabbit cheered. “The system is back to normal!”

Alice felt a strange pulling sensation. The world around her began to blur, just like when she had first been sucked into the iPad. “Wait! What’s happening?” she asked.

The white digital rabbit smiled. “You’re logging out.”

Before she could protest, everything went dark.

Alice blinked and found herself back in the classroom, the iPad in her hands, her classmates still finishing their work. She looked around, her heart racing. Had it all been real? Her fingers hovered over the screen. The strange notification was gone.

But as she placed the iPad down, a single message flashed briefly before disappearing: “Welcome back anytime, @User_Alice.”

Alice smiled. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be her last adventure in the world of VR.