Everything

The greatest pain in this virtual world remains the spectre of Whiteout. Essentially a reality crash, Whiteout occurs when the strands of the Web, if you will, get twisted or broken by carelessness. Just as power surges or viruses can disrupt or destroy computer systems, so a Whiteout disrupts localized Webspace. In late 1997, one literally crashed the entire Digital Web, killing dozens, if not hundreds, of travelers and injuring many more. Linked to the destruction of Doissetep, this colossal Whiteout was the worst of its kind thus far. Fears of a similar event at the end of 1999 didn’t pan out, thank the many gods, but long-time netizens keep watching over their shoulders. The Internet, after all, has undergone vast changes in the physical world; the fact that events in that world can still affect Reality 2.0 is rarely far from anyone’s mind. These days, the Digital Web is neither the Wild West it once was nor the Reality 2.0 its idealists hoped it would be. The amusing and often tiresome leetspeak that once defined it has given way (again, thank all the gods that be) to a highly visual, mixed literacy defined by text, graphics, links, video, and shared points of reference. Even now, though, there’s a vast gulf between the people who use the Internet and the folks who truly live in virtual reality. You probably do the first thing every day, but you might never do the second thing in your life.

Any conscious entity can dream; very few, however, can enter the Dream Zone under their own power and then walk around there at will. The Digital Web works the same way. Billions of people access virtual space every day, via phones and keyboards. These folks don’t actually enter the Digital Web, though – they skim along its proximity, brushing its strands the way that insect wings displace the air. As Sleepers do in the magickal realm, most people affect the nature of Reality as a whole yet rarely work their Will upon it. They pass briefly through the virtual realm, fireflies flashing here and there. To become human in that region, you’ve got to send yourself there through one of several methods:

• Sensory visitation involves projecting an enhanced version of your consciousness into virtual space. Using VR gear,

This makes a huge difference for certain elements of Mage: The Ascension.

A Mage 20 Storyteller has several options:

you achieve a clumsy sort of presence in the Web. It’s safe but awkward. Despite refinements of VR gear over the last few decades, this method is still like trying to play ping-pong in a hazmat suit.

• Astral immersion sends your consciousness into the Web while fooling your senses with an illusion of virtual space. Essentially, it employs a scientific truth: everything you experience consists of electrical impulses sent through your sensory organs and into your brain, where your brain perceives them as reality. Astral immersion allows a person to

perceive astral reality (in the Web, at least) without being a master of astral projection… which is helpful for folks without the time or training to achieve such expertise. It’s more dangerous than sensory visitation because it’s more real. That said, it’s still less risky than…

• Holistic immersion, in which a traveler downloads himself into the virtual realm as living information. This is easier now than it once was, but it remains a powerful act of magickal technology. For travelers, this is the most dangerous type of journey, for though sensory and astral

trips leave the meat at home, holistic immersion brings the whole of one’s self into the Web. What happens to you there happens to you on all levels of Reality.

• Web-Climbing, a laborious trip, remains an art few mages ever learn. Scaling the Pattern Web between Otherworlds, a traveler can holistically enter the Digital Web without using technology at all. Despite this apparent convenience, however, it’s a rough option to employ. For starters, you’ve got to find the Pattern Webs leading into the Digital Web… and then, you’ve got to be able to climb there. I’m told that werewolves can do this sort of thing, but mages are not werewolves. Hardy shamans might be able to accomplish this task, but it’d take a fit and crazy mage to dare that sort of climb. One slip or hesitation along the way, and who knows where you’d end up…?