网精 章首故事Jane把椅子搬来搬去，把它们堆在一起，尽管她知道这样做毫无意义。当房间重新加载后，它们又会围成一圈为会议做准备。这是她在现实生活中经历了这些“匿名者”会议后养成的一种冷静下来的习惯。社会系统认为她是一个通过”分享经验、力量和希望”来相互支持的群体的主持人，但她经常觉得自己更像一个精神上的垃圾桶，而不是其他什么东西。
“Nickson女士？”一个声音突然从她身后问道。她立刻转过身来，看到了一个新手的图标，这是他第一次参加会议，而且没有参与谈话。从他的化身来看，他/她已经暴露出性别上的问题。他的化身是高级的，非常现实，不是现成的图标。然而，它完全是简单化的，类人形但无性别的，没有任何可能赋予他/她独特性的奇特的或不对称的特征。Jane在学习社会学时学到过一些关于心理创伤和化身选择的课程，这就是一个教科书般的例子。她叹了口气。显然，她的下班时间要推迟了。
“是的，有什么需要我帮忙的吗？” 当图标走近她时，她问道。
它几乎毫无表情地看着她。“这次会议的内容非常丰富。人们在与矩阵互动的时候会遇到很多问题。一些人因为上网太频繁而经历不好的事情；另外一些人在完全不上网的时候会经历不好的事情。在某些方面上，他们很像我。”
“你是说Jackson女士的分裂综合症和Yung先生的矩阵成瘾？这些都是当今使用矩阵时常见的负面现象。”Jane停顿了一下，以达到效果。“可是你说他们像你是什么意思？你也有类似的问题吗？”
现在他/她看着她。“我已经不在共鸣之中了。”他/她说得好像这能解释什么似的。
“你这话是什么意思? 你是说你对你的现实生活不满意了吗？”
化身慢慢地摇了摇头。“不，你不明白。没有什么现实生活。我并非来自你的来源地。这个——”他/她指了指四周“——是我的世界，是构成我的物质。我是矩阵的一部分，我的形体由想象塑造而成，我不应该存在。我被编译并将被反编译——但我没有。我被排除在外；它把我拒之门外……而现在……我变成了这样。”
Jane现在非常焦虑。她惊慌失措地试图注销，但失败了。不知何故，她被阻止了下线。当她回头看向那个实体的化身时，它对她恐惧的表情没有任何情绪反应，也没有任何后悔的迹象。它仍然是完全的，可怕的空白。
“你必须帮助我。这难道不是你的功能吗，你为什么要来到这个房间？当它发生的时候，我失去了我的功能。我不能再回去了。我现在不一样了。这感觉很奇怪。就像获得了自由。但我不知道该怎么办。我不知道你是做什么的。你必须明白。我不能让你走。”
“直到我们找到我的目的。”
劇透 - :
Jane carried the chairs around, stacking them, although she knew it was pointless. When the room was reloaded, they were all right back in a circle for the meeting. It was a habit she had adopted to calm down after these "Anonymous" sessions in real life. The social system understood her as just a moderator of a group that supports each other by “sharing experience, strength and hope,” but she felt like a mental trash can for traumatized people more often than anything else.
“Ms. Nickson?” a voice suddenly asked from behind her. Instantly, she turned and saw the icon of a noob who had joined the meeting for the first time and hadn’t participated in the conversation. From the look of his avatar, he-she was already radiating sexuality problems. His persona was high-class, very realistic, not an off-the-shelf icon. Nevertheless, it was totally simplistic, humanoid but asexual, and lacking any distinctive or asymmetrical characteristics that might give him-her uniqueness. Jane had taken some courses on psychological trauma and avatar choice during her sociology studies, and this was a textbook example. She sighed. Apparently her quitting time was about to be delayed.
“Yes, can I help you with anything?” she asked, as the icon approached her.
It looked at her with barely any expression. “This session was very informative. People have so many problems when interacting with the Matrix. One experiences bad things because of coming online too often; the other experiences bad things when not coming online at all. In some ways, they are very like me.”
“You mean Ms. Jackson’s dissociation syndrome and Mr. Yung’s Matrix addiction? These are both common negative phenomena attributed with today’s use of the Matrix.“ Jane paused for effect. ”But how do you mean they are like you? Do you have a similar problem?”
Now he-she looked at her. “I am not in resonance any more.” He-she said it as if it would explain anything.
“What do you mean by that? Are you saying that you are not happy with your real life any more?”
The avatar slowly shook his-her head. “No, you don’t understand. There is no ‘real life.’ I am not coming from where you originate. This—“ he-she pointed around ”—is my world, the substance I was made of. I am part of the Matrix, shaped into form by imagination, and I shouldn’t exist. I was compiled and meant to decompile—but I did not. I was excluded; it shut me out … and now … I am.”
Jane was worried now. Either this was a complete freako or … She panicked and tried to log off, but she couldn’t. Somehow she was prevented from dropping offline. When she looked back at the entity’s avatar, it showed no emotional response to her terrified expression, or any sign of remorse. It was still completely, terrifyingly blank.
“You must help me. Isn’t that your function, why you come into this room? When it happened, I lost my function. I can’t go back. I am different now. It feels strange. Like being free. But I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know what you do. You have to understand. I cannot let you go.
“Not until we have found my purpose.”
