[So mean! It's just a helmet, Al. Time to let the light shine in. The light of knowledge particularly, because this has to be the least educated, poorly cultured kid in existence.]

Siberia. Like, in Russia. Like, the great white north expanse, home to socialists and commies. What's up with that anyway? I'm pretty sure it's something about being frozen most of the year.

And virtual reality as in a fake reality. As in, what you get hulking this tin can around for you. [He's let go from around Al's neck and settled back into his arms enough to raise one hand to rap on the armor's chest plate. Bad idea. It's cold and it's hard. House hisses, pulling his hand back to his own chest.] It's a projection of reality with machines. Very Star Trek.

Also nothing to say this place isn't half-real with half the things we see in it as hallucinations. You could probably put something in the food, the water, the snow, the air. Low doses ever so often. Get people feeding off of each other's paranoia and fear to 'create' things like those 'creatures.'

[Not... that he wants Al to stop, but just pointing it out.]

Psychosomatic pain from perceived injuries happens all the time. Brains short circuit. We're all total wimps.