Hugh wracked his brain trying to recall what he'd seen in the game trailers, but there hadn't been much detail. There had been a whole lot of insinuations over how the system could possibly be used, from letting young professionals work in their sleep to providing the sick and elderly with fantastical vacation destinations. There had also been a plethora of player-built maid cafes, x-rated strip clubs, and militant PVP bases, but those had been player-built locations 'leaked' by supposed beta testers.
He did recall one breakdown trailer by a developer at a game conference who'd explained there would be three different story factions—magic, technological, and neutral—available to those interested in exploring outside their personally customized world, but he'd skipped over most of it since it'd sounded so damn cliché.
He was kicking himself for not paying closer attention but, in his defense, there had been a lot of proposed ways to play the game. When he'd been talking about the game with his friends, he'd planned to focus on world-building and exploring. There had been talk among different gaming forums about how every object in the game, from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest castle tower, could be used by players. He'd intended to explore world after world, raiding places for crafting blueprints and designs, then using them to transform his world into a 'mecca of me'.
Yes, it was narcissistic, but what gamer wasn't?
But now he knew this was going to be more than just a game—it'd be his reality for the next hundred years. He'd have to play far more conservatively. He couldn't rush out, skip the tutorial, and fumble until he figured things out. He needed to read the manual first.
Hugh waved his hand in front of him in various directions to see if it would bring up a system menu. When nothing happened, he stood and carefully took in his surroundings. The action was just as intuitive as it'd have been in the real world. He could actually feel the cool, smooth stone under his feet, including a pinch of pain when his bare heel landed on a pebble.
He cussed and the words came out in his real world voice. It made him take stock of himself before looking around any further. His arms had the same thick muscles he'd worked so hard to build and his legs were still the hairy tree trunks he received after puberty. Everything about him from his padded gut to the curly hairs around his cock were exactly right, which was downright creepy when he thought about it.
Lifting his leg a little to see if he still had the tattoo on his inner thigh from graduation night, he was relieved to see it was missing. He assumed it meant no one had stripped him naked after he logged in. Scanning his body must have been an automated process built into the Cryosis gaming suit.
He could accept that.
On the other hand, what couldn't accept was the lack of starter clothes. Did they really have to drop him into this new world without a single stitch? What if he'd created a land covered in ice? Or a hot desert? He supposed it explained was why the stone patio had been placed beneath his spawn point, but still—no clothes at all? He wasn't Adam and this wasn't the Garden of Eden. Not really.
"Hey!" he called to the sky. "Where's my stuff? I paid for the Guild package, so shouldn't I have some robes? And what about all the stuff I scanned in the real world?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling more and more exposed by the minute. The dawn sun was shining bright over the distant mountains and it was already warm enough to make him sweat, but the breeze he'd enjoyed a few minutes ago was starting to make his skin pebble. He didn't think he could get sick, but he didn't want to test the theory so soon in the game.
Since clothes weren't immediately forthcoming, building a fire seemed like a logical first step. It made him glad he'd filled his world's central continent with forests—or so he thought until he took a hard look at the trees surrounding his flagstone spawn point. They were all newly grown, a first generation jutting out of a pristine carpet of grass. None of them were old enough to have dropped dead growth for him to collect and even Hugh, a guy born and raised in a lesser metropolis, knew green stuff didn't burn very well.
The thickness of the bark, however, gave him hope. Even from a distance, he could tell there were pieces he could pry away and maybe dry in the sun. After that, he'd just have to figure out a way to light it.
The moment Hugh stepped foot off the stone patio to fetch it, the ground quaked and heaved, knocking him off balance. He barely managed to keep on his feet, but he could hear trees in the forest who weren't so lucky. Cracking and crashing could be heard in every direction and a distant rumble heralded a landslide in the distance.
As suddenly as it began, it stopped. Hugh stared out at the forest, wondering what exactly he'd just triggered, although he could already feel the answer weighing in his heart. The quake was his world settling into place. If there had been a way to turn back, he'd just given it up.