Читать книгу Step into the Metaverse онлайн | страница 11

They said their goodbyes and promised to see each other, in person, for dinner that evening.

With that, Laya brought up the central directory and opened a door to The Imperial College of Arts' new metaverse performance space.

* * *

It was always the sound first. As Laya stepped through the door the noise of a full hall poured over her. A wave of conversation, laughs, and cries from excited kids and teens reverberated through her headset. She adjusted the volume on the right side of the headset and looked around the large, darkened hall.

A stage sat at the far end, brightly illuminated by invisible lights. She looked up and noticed the hall just faded off into blackness, never actually coming to a ceiling, just an endless void.

Ms. Hutchkings, the school's principal, had turned up to personally guide Laya through the crowd of mixed avatars. Digital twins, some sporting tuxedos, others shorts and T-shirts, lined the hall. Some more outlandish avatars were also dotted about, including what looked like a Ninja Turtle, or at least some type of giant walking reptile.

They found their way to the designated viewing area, and within minutes, the hall fell silent. A row of masked faces appeared center stage. The show had begun. Students began showcasing content they created in their Content Creation Module, a module added to the national curriculum as part of Laya's 5-Step Modernization Program.

About 30 minutes in, Mia's digital twin came on dressed in a tutu. Mia had tweaked the color scheme and appeared black and white, almost film Noir-esque.

She stood center stage and took a ballet pose, as she softly moved, a black bar appeared at the bottom of Laya's vision. Bach - Air on the G String, Suite No. 3, BWV 1068 gently scrolled across in a small white font. The haunting sound of a stringed orchestra rose through Laya's ears as her daughter gracefully began moving with the music. As she moved, her fingers would leave brush strokes behind them, hanging in the air.

Mia danced beautifully, the changing colors flowing out from her hands as she did. Dark blues, a deep green, violet, gold, blacks, whites—a palette of colors drifted out from her hands staining the air. At the piece's crescendo, Mia struck a pose in front of the picture she'd just birthed. From a thousand seemingly random lines and colors, a vision of Vincent van Gogh's The Starry Night had formed.