Mateo Salazar leaned back in his chair, hands interlaced behind his head, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him, as he scrolls through the lattest corporate email pleading for help.The latest issue with Synthetic Dawn had landed on his desk, which meant that somewhere, some poor soul had wasted days or possibly weeks trying to solve the issue, only to miserably fail. Andsomeone important had deemed it unsolvable had tried to get rid of it, making it someone else''s problem.Which, of course, meant it was perfect for him.


    "Tell me," Mateo said, calling over to Kenji’s, "when did we become the designated janitors for TitanWorks’ messes?"


    "I think it was the day we proved we could actually fix things. That was our first mistake." callsKenji Takada, approaching to take a look at the lattest clusterfuck.


    "And the second?"


    "Not sabotaging something to lower expectations."


    Across the room, Noémie Laurent scoffed, adjusting the bridge of her glasses with a finger. "It’s because we’re good at what we do. Also, let’s be honest, nobody upstairs understands what they’re doing. They hand us these ‘impossible’ problems, because it’s easier than figuring them out themselves."


    Mateo had found that the main problem with designing the future, was that it inevitably involved dealing with the past. Specifically, the past decisions of executives who didn’t know what they were approving, or worse, a decision made that nobody is aware of, made by some engineer. Oh the irony!


    Kenji leaned over his shoulder, skimming the report while taking slow bites of a protein bar. "So, tester-players are experiencing intense pain and disorientation in-game?" He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "I fail to see the problem."


    Noémie crossed her arms. "Kenji."


    "What?" He gestured at the screen. "It''s a hyper-immersive simulation designed to push cognitive boundaries, and do what is impossible on the real world. Technically, it''s working as intended."


    "It’s a lawsuit waiting to happen," Noémie corrected. "And before you say anything, yes, I know our contract has some player liability clauses, but there’s a limit."


    This log here shows the amount of data transfer between the user and the game, and it’s huge!"


    Noémie folded her arms. "Let me guess. You have a theory."


    Mateo rubbed his chin. "It only happens in specific circumstances—high-stress learning moments. Players aren’t just feeling pain; they’re reacting to something their brain has no reference for. Like... experiencing a new sense."


    Kenji snapped his fingers. "It’s like if someone suddenly developed echolocation but had to suffer through extreme migraines to get there."


    "I hate that you just made sense," Noémie muttered.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Mateo tapped a few keys, bringing up player data. "The more they endure without losing focus, the more they seem able to do afterwards."


    "Take this guy for example, after he suffered through an episode, he seem to have gained some form of weak telekinesis, its like a new arm the human brain is not prepared to deal with"


    A beat of silence.


    Kenji whistled. "More pain, more progression. More knowledge gained per instance of suffering. So we accidentally gamified masochism. Nice! Thats original for sure!"


    "That is not how we’re pitching it to the board," Noémie snapped. "We need to mitigate this before someone’s brain melts."


    Mateo barely heard her. His mind was already running scenarios, sorting through the implications. "What if," he said, eyes lighting up, "we don’t mitigate it? What if we lean into it?"


    Noémie closed her eyes. "I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that."


    Kenji grinned. "Go on. This sounds fun."


    Mateo turned back to the report. "It’s not a bug; it’s a feature. A mechanic. We can control the thresholds, limit it to manageable levels, make it a conscious risk-reward system. Pain as a barrier to knowledge. The ultimate skill ceiling."


    Noémie exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. "Do you have any idea how insane this is going to sound in a meeting with Legal?"


    Mateo shrugged. "We can rebrand it as Cognitive Endurance Mode. Sounds way more corporate-friendly than Mind Torture Simulator 3000."


    Kenji grinned. "I love Mind Torture Simulator 3000. Can we put that in a dev build?"


    "Nobody reads those tag names anyway, who is going to notice? Not corporate, thats for sure."


    A beat of silence.


    Noémie exhaled slowly. "You’re suggesting we tell players, ‘The more you suffer, the smarter you become, or something’"


    Kenji nodded approvingly. "It''s a hell of a tagline."


    Noémie considered it, arms still crossed. "You both know I hate this, right? The worst part is, that it makes a certain amount of sense, and you two areusually right about what players want."


    Mateo understood her plight, he certainly did, but would never admit to that. It was alway fun to see her dealing with his fixes. How else where they supposed to pass the time? "You know its going to be a hit if it gets past the suits, don''t you?"


    "Fine," she said at last. "I’ll run it by Legal. But if this backfires, both of you are coming to the meeting to explain yourselves."


    Kenji groaned. "Ugh, corporate meetings. Is this what hell feels like?"


    Mateo grinned. "I thought hell felt like Mind Torture Simulator 3000."


    Noémie grabbed a marker and pointed it at them. "You two are the worst." Then she turned back to the whiteboard. "Alright. If we’re doing this, we need to frame it carefully. No talk of pain, suffering, or neural distress. We spin this as a challenge to unlock the player''s potential. Something that enhances gameplay, instead of traumatizingthe player."


    Mateo leaned back, smug. "See? I knew you’d see the vision."


    Noémie threw the marker at him.


    It bounced off his shoulder as Kenji cackled.


    Mateo picked it up, still grinning. "Feature, not a bug."


    Noémie tapped her chin. "Besides, the upshot is that psychologically, it could be an incredible tool for immersion. But we’d have to make it progressive. If it’s too harsh from the start, players will quit. If it scales with them, however..."


    Mateo smirks. "No melted brains for the win, sounds good."


    "Legal is going to love this," Noémie deadpanned. "We should schedule a meeting."


    Kenji smirks and puts on an exaggerated fake concerned expression. "Mr. Salazar, are you telling the public that you are intentionally inflicting pain on players?"


    Mateo steepled his fingers. "We are providing an unparalleled learning experience!"


    Kenji laughed. "I can already see the marketing pitch: ‘Overcome pain, master the mind. True ascension awaits.’"


    Kenji grinned. "Follow-up question: Who was the genious behind this idea?"


    "The CEO of course, who else would be so brazen and creative?" Mateo replied smoothly.


    Noémie groaned. "We''re all going to get fired."


    "Or promoted," Kenji offered.


    Mateo smiled. "Possibly both."