until Gunpei Yokoi, then-head of Nintendo’s renowned Research & Development 1, the group responsible for the über-successful Game Boy handheld.

Though Lipsey rarely played videogames, even he saw the compelling nature of their product: “The thing about the Private Eye games was that they were totally absorbing.” With no outside information, the player fell completely into the game space. “You were just completely…” Lipsey pauses. “It was your whole world.”

The gaming giant bought exclusive rights to Reflection Technology’s display for an as-yet unannounced device. Reflection continued working with Nintendo in secret; team members spoke only of something called the “Dragon Project”, never revealing their Japanese partner to outsiders. There was still much to be done. The initial prototypes, compelling enough to sell Yokoi and Nintendo on the potential of their display, were not without major issues. A virtual-reality helmet with full motion tracking was, in theory, the next great evolution in gaming. In reality, you might as well ship it with subpoena forms.

“The point of this thing [Private Eye] was to liberate you from the couch,” Lipsey says. “Nintendo was concerned about liability issues: kids, with their eyes blocked, lurching and dancing around their houses.” Any device that eliminates your vision in real space while tasking you with virtual obstacles is a safety hazard. Staff at Nintendo were worried a child, strapped into their new head-mounted visor, might walk off a subway platform while leaping for a 1-up mushroom. Thousands of people played Game Boys during long car trips; imagine the consequences of an accident while a conglomeration of hard plastic, glass, and metal hangs two inches from your face.

Others within the company were worried about the lack of a full-color screen. The all-red display was a matter of economics; blue LEDs were prohibitively expensive. Even without the motion-tracking or full color, Yokoi and his team thought they had a game-changer. By combining two Private Eyes in a pair of goggles, they could achieve true three-dimensional depth. Other “3D” graphics of the time were mere facsimiles; this was going to feel new, like nothing anyone had seen. Besides, a monochromatic display hadn’t hurt the Game Boy. Within weeks of its launch in the U.S., Nintendo had sold a million of the underpowered handhelds. Expectations were high for Yokoi’s next project. Three years would pass before they unveiled the mysterious system to the public.

Hopes escalated within Reflection, too; at the time, Nintendo’s products dominated the gaming market. The Dragon Project seemed like a sure bet. Reflection’s board of directors included Nicholas Negroponte, co-founder of MIT’s Media Lab and the first investor in Wired magazine. Even Nintendo bought a minority interest in the group; their first-ever investment in a U.S. company.

The deal spanned oceans. Unfortunately, one of the parties would sink.

In November 1994, Nintendo showcased its newest innovation at the Shoshinkai Exhibition in Tokyo. The long-rumored device, known only as “VR3D”, was finally unveiled as the Virtual Boy. Announcements touted the system as a 32-bit portable with 3D visuals. Promotional material called it “the first VR system for the masses.”

Only it wasn’t portable, barely 32-bit, and nothing close to virtual reality. This is what the