[ WP ] Humanity has been living in a simulated utopia of their own making for several generations . The robots and infrastructure that maintain this paradise have begun breaking down .

Everyone just called it'Last Sight', because it was literally the last place you saw before you got Boxed. 
 There were plenty of digital slums now and this was the worst of them. The residents were allocated the very lowest amount of bandwidth to keep'living' - and as a result, everything was in drab greyscale. Sometimes even plain white and black when resources were especially low. 
 Distance was filtered too - you could n't see more than a few cubic meters around you, so you were constantly running into the other digital homeless, trudging through the slums, bouncing off their collision barriers like a primitive game of pinball. 
 Although, it was n't like there was much to look at on the street. Everything was plain, uniform and low-quality. Doors did n't even open and close; they just disappeared and appeared - where there *were* doors. 
 Disaffected people had scrawled graffiti on the walls by forcing impacts to occur between indestructible digital objects, leaving a trail of jumbled code and scrambled textures to form words. 
 But even the digital graffiti would eventually revert back, fading until the walls were uniform and grey again. 
 
 Once we had all been living in a burgeoning digital utopia, free to fly, create, destroy and play. 
 I only knew this because the other greyscale, nearly featureless denizens of the slum told me so in thier dreary, personality-free monotone voices. I was born inside the digital world, just before things went bad. My parents had carefully coded me from their own digital'essence' and I had sprung into this world with a fully functional mind, but with the knowledge of a newborn. 
 There was no way to determine how old I was in biological years because time did n't work the same here as in the'real' world. Or so I had been told. All I knew was that my'real world' uptime was twenty three thousand, four hundred and thirty seven hours - and I'd only spent fifteen of those hours living in relative luxury before the degradation had started. 
 One rumour was that something had gone wrong in the'real' world and that was why the slums had sprung up - there were no longer enough resources free to allow everyone to live in a perfect world; so only the wealthy people and the valuable people got the best resources allocated and lived in an infinite reality of super-high definition. 
 The other rumour I believed was that the rich had simply taken so much and were so selfish that there was n't enough left for the poor and the broken. Their grandiose creations and digital escapades were so out of control that the servers groaned under the weight of their bourgeois imaginings. 
 In either case, there was no way to fix it. 
 If the problem was in the'real' world, then there was no one left out there to do anything about it. 
 And should the rich be the cause of the slums, they had all the power in this world - we could n't even leave Last Sight, let alone confront them in their lofty digital Nirvanas. 
 All we could do now was to struggle on, until our last remaining credits dwindled away and the sweepers came to Box us forever.
