**Want a better world? Adjust it.**Go anywhere. Do anything. Be anyone. The next great era of technological evolution has arrived. Life Two promised an experience that went beyond virtual. A user experience to die for. It delivered more than they thought. Change your mind. Change your life. Free from morality and time, what could you become? In the merging of physical and digital worlds, a new reality will be forged. There is only one Life will never be the same, again. The second book in the near-future Rez Point series. The Reality Forge is a fast-paced, high-concept technothriller that plunges you ever deeper into a darkly immersive world that, at times, seems all too possible. • Selected praise for Simon Winstanley’s hard Sci-Fi ★★★★★ “Complex characters and intertwined storylines make it impossible to guess the outcome.” ★★★★★ “Genius concept, engrossing story, cleverly told.” ★★★★★ “Captivating, intricate science fiction!” ★★★★★ “A fantastic series and can imagine the tv or film studios circling.” ★★★★★ “The perfect balance of sci-fi and action, and the best science fiction book I've read since Altered Carbon.” ★★★★★ “Up there with Asimov…” ★★★★★ “Thought provoking and has those “wow, that could really happen” moments.” ★★★★★ “It’s books like this that keep the sci-fi genre fresh and Exciting…” • A look inside The Reality Even now, half of her memories from the previous week were still missing. A shapeless, impenetrable void contained all of her actions. It also contained their only hope of getting out of this situation alive. More than anything, she wanted to jump back into her specific Rez Point and finish what she’d started but, as she’d already learnt, every decision brought multiple branching consequences into existence. Adjusting the world couldn’t be rushed. It required patience and time. She stared at the duplicate of her holography rig. The lithium niobate crystal at the centre of the setup seemed to stare back at her. Things hadn’t worked out exactly the way she’d wanted. The pain, suffering and synaptic slavery she’d hoped to prevent had been amplified by her actions. The harsh logic of the situation also meant that those events couldn’t be undone. She picked up an old portable radio and pushed a chunky button on the top. Immediately the radio’s single speaker filled the air with tinny sound. As she turned a partially exposed wheel on the side, the speaker stuttered through a fragmented collage of random music, voices, adverts, and jingles. The indicator on the front of the radio continued to slide through dozens of stations; each channel sounding different to its neighbours but generally following the same trends and themes. Eventually the commercial clamour faded, and the speaker projected only white a low-level static hiss that drifted out into the large room. Somewhere, in the middle of this apparently meaningless radio static, was the solution.