Nate felt a convincing simulation of sweat emerging on his face as he endured the expectant stares of the many children. This was like the presentation he'd been roped into giving a few weeks ago, except he hadn't even been given lines to forget. He nervously glanced around the room and marvelled at how detailed it all was. Every notice and picture on the wall was unique and believable. On the desk in front of him was a stack of writing exercises, each one exhibiting a different variety of sloppy handwriting. Nate hurriedly searched the desk for some clue as to what he was meant to be doing.
"Miss Moffet...?" one of the kids spoke up, having waited long enough for the teacher to say something.
"Can we do painting now?" another child said.
"When's lunch?" asked a third.
Nate approached panic, seeing he was running out of time to figure this out. But then he belatedly realised: this was just a simulation. These weren't real kids, so why bother looking after them? Having thus freed himself from concern, he turned his thoughts back to annoyance at the program for messing up his request.
"I don't want to do this!" he snapped, finding it difficult to properly express his anger in the soft voice he'd been given. "I'm out of here!"
Ignoring the cacophony of confused reactions, Nate guided the teacher's shapely body to the door. He half expected to open it and step out into a white void or some such incongruous thing, but the outside of the classroom was just as realistic as the inside. So far the simulation had proven indistinguishable from reality, a slightly worrying thought.
Having no idea where he was going or why, Nate wandered down the corridor until he came across what seemed to be a back entrance. As he approached it, he turned to look back and saw that none of the children seemed to have followed him... a belief that lived only until a small girl emerged from behind a corner.
"Miss Moffet?" she began, looking strangely at Nate before continuing...
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