It was cold. Really freakin' colder than it honestly had any right to be.
Ryga squinted into the blinding glare reflecting off the snow. Bright whites and cool blues
for miles around, and really nothing else. Fantastic.
"Welcome to World One."
"Hey, uh..." Ryga looked up. He didn't know where the voice was coming from, exactly,
but somewhere in the vicinity of 'up' seemed like a safe bet. "Where am I?"
"World One."
"Yeah, no shit. Just... where?"
"New quest created: Find Civilization."
"Gee. Thanks. That helps." Ryga sighed, watched his breath freeze in the air. He took a
step forward, grimaced as his leg sank into the snow. He was wearing the same clothes he'd
had on when he'd gone to sleep last night, and considering that he didn't live in fucking Siberia,
he was not exactly dressed for freeze-to-death weather. "So... if this is Avatar, does that mean
I'm at the South Pole?"
No response. Maybe it figured it'd given away too much already. "Okay. Okay. Awesome.
Just gotta find the Water Tribe. No problem. Just gotta... find one small fishing village in a
massive snowy wasteland." Ryga shivered, and then realized that he shouldn't be shivering right
now, he should be dead. It was cold, sure, definitely some hardcore winter weather, but it didn't
feel subzero. Cartoon logic in action, he thought. If the MCs don't have to wear more than
parkas and gloves, it must not be as cold as the actual South Pole. Thanks, global warming! I
owe ya one. It didn't do much to make him feel better about the fact that he was still most
definitely frostbitten and had exactly zero Fire-type skills, but better than being dead, right?
It took about five minutes for Ryga to seriously start wondering how he felt about that
question.
Okay, he thought dully. I can't warm myself up. I don't have a map - not that I'm any good
with directions. I can't accomplish my one quest, which is the only thing that could POSSIBLY
GIVE ME TICKETS for a chance at an actual Fire-type skill. Basically, I'm fucked.
"Ryga, you are in distress."
"YEAH!!" Ryga screamed out over the silent tundra. "NO SHIT, BUDDY!!"
"Would you like to use a lifeline?"
"WHA - FUCK -" Ryga took a deep breath that felt like inhaling ice cubes. "What the fuck
is a lifeline, and why didn't you mention it like twelve hours ago??"
"A lifeline is essentially a deus ex machina. It allows any number of improbable
situations that would benefit you in that moment to happen. You start with two and can earn
more through completing Heroic quests. Would you like to use one?"
Ryga tried to weigh his options. This was difficult when his train of thought's engine had
iced over. After about three seconds of slow and unhelpful consideration, Ryga threw up his
hands. "YES, alright? Yes. Save me, O Mighty Whatever-the-fuck-you-are."
"Creating lifeline."
And then nothing happened.
For a solid ten seconds, nothing happened, and Ryga wanted to collapse in the snow
and scream.
Then something emerged from the snowbank ahead. Something black and white and
gray all over, and also it had six fins. "Penguin...?"
The penguin waddled up to him without hesitation, without fear. Ryga fell onto his back
and scrambled away. It probably wasn't dangerous, but he'd been in this exact situation with a
goose before and it had not ended well. It loomed over him as menacingly as a penguin can
possibly loom - and extended a fin.
Hesitantly, Ryga took it, and through some absurd miracle of physics, the penguin pulled
him up onto his feet.
"Thanks, lil' buddy!" Ryga said, trying to shake snow out of his hair. "Don't suppose you
know the way to the Southern Water Tribe?"
The penguin cocked its head at him, as if processing. Then it wrapped its fin around his
hand and tugged it, leading him behind it.
Must be my lifeline. Didn't expect it to be so cute, but not complaining. Ryga gripped its
fin tight and staggered behind it, what little body heat their minimal contact provided seeming to
warm him to his core.
They walked, walked for what could've been hours, could've been days. All Ryga knew
was that when he opened his eyes, an old woman in a blue parka was standing over him, and
the penguin was huddled up at his side.
"Find Civilization complete. Congratulations."
It was definitely another logical inconsistency that hot chocolate in the South Pole, which
by all rights should not have access to sugar, chocolate, or whipped cream, was absolutely
delicious. Not that Ryga had any right to complain, he reflected as he slurped his drink down in
a definitely-obnoxious way. Don't look a gift horse in the marshmallow, right?
The old woman, it turned out, was Sokka and Katara's grandmother. To Ryga's
disappointment, they had already departed with Aang, although that was probably for the best.
He would've felt weird running around with a bunch of kids anyway. Now that they were gone,
the grandmother seemed to be feeling lonely, and she didn't seem to mind trading two mouths
to feed for one. Hence his new residence at the kids' home igloo.
It had seemed great at first. Almost too good to be true. Free housing, free food as long
as he earned his keep, and no questions asked about all the insane shit in his life right now. It
had been three days, though, and Ryga was starting to notice some serious downsides.
First of all, way less privacy than one would imagine the South Freakin' Pole to have.
Everywhere you looked there were some obnoxious little kids chasing each other around. Ryga
normally liked kids, but wow these little dudes were a lot. Point being - there was never really a
great place to talk to the weird-ass voice from the heavens.
"I can hear you, Ryga."
Ryga jumped out of his chair. "Holy shit, what??" The grandma - Kanna, he was pretty
sure - glared at him disapprovingly. "Oh, sorry. Just, uh -" He paused, thought about it, decided
there was no explanation that would make sense, and just shrugged. What the hell, man? You
can read my mind??
"Sorry. I realize most humans would consider this a breach of 'privacy', so I didn't want to
tell you unless I had to, but this seemed like a pertinent time."
So uh... find anything interesting in there?
"Not particularly."
Ouch.
Okay. That was one issue settled. Still left a whole lot of other annoying stuff, though.
Like the food. Admittedly, it tasted way better than it should. Cartoon logic in action
again. Still, even unrealistically delicious fish got boring after a while, and in the week he'd been
there, Ryga had already gotten sick of it. And worst of all, it was boring.
Nothing to do except help out around the village, catch fish, and play with the kids, none
of which Ryga particularly enjoyed. And sure, that was a pretty petty thing to complain about,
but Ryga was coming off a constant-stimulation high. In his old life, he'd had video games and
TV shows going nonstop, often simultaneously. Now, he didn't even have a damn flip phone to
his name.
Plus, Ryga had never really been a big fan of the cold.
He had to get out of here. That was the answer, right? The Thing To Do. Nothing going
on around here; therefore, he had to get the fuck out. The world of Avatar was massive, and he
wouldn't let himself just get stuck in the most boring little corner of it.
"New quest created: Escape the South Pole."
Huh. Convenient.
"Actually, since these quests are specifically tailored to your needs and goals, they will
always be convenient."
Whatever, man. Uh - I guess first off, do you have a name?
"Not one compatible with human ears or voice boxes."
Okay... anything you want me to call you?
"Dave."
Wow. That was fast.
"'Dave' is an average, approachable human name. I would like you to see me as
approachable."
Okay, but why specifically - never mind.
One of the weirdest things about this weird system Ryga had found himself in was that
the weird voice helper thing actually seemed to have a personality. He wasn't sure why that was
surprising, exactly, but it was.
Dave, is there a way I can get back to that crazy wheel world?
"Loading World Zero."
Wait -
The world crumbled away before Ryga's eyes before swiftly reassembling itself into the
room Ryga had first entered. "Holy shit, man! At least give me a heads up next time!"
"Well, sorry." It - sorry, Dave - sounded mildly offended. "I was going to say, welcome
back to World Zero."
"Ugh..." Ryga held a hand to his head. "Yeah, sorry, I guess it's not your fault, but
goddamn it gives me a migraine when you do that so fast." He looked around, noticing a few
new additions to the room. "What's all this?"
"The booth on your left is the Ticket Booth." Ryga turned, and sure enough, there was
indeed what appeared to be a ticket booth. "Here, you can convert real money from any world
you visit into Ticket Tokens, which can be used to buy Tickets."
"Uh-huh. And - what are all these?" He nodded to the labels on different segments of the
Ticket Booth. "Skill Tickets, Summon Tickets, Item Tickets..." His face suddenly lit up. "Wait, can
I summon actual Pokemon??"
"Indeed. Every twenty-fifth spin with any ticket is a guaranteed SS-tier."
"Sick." Ryga nodded to himself. "So... I'm flat broke. Any chance you can give me a
loan?"
"No. But you can win tickets through quests. Check the Reward Depository."
"The reward, huh?" Ryga looked around. An ATM-looking thing that he assumed was for
converting money... and next to it, a mailbox-type thing similar to the one near the wheel. Only
this one, he could actually open. He crouched down, opened up the receiving slot, and was
surprised to feel paper. "Sweet! So, this is my reward for finding civilization?"
"Indeed. Five Skill Tickets and one Summon Ticket."
Ryga nearly tripped over his own feet getting back to the wheel. He had a plan, and it
involved these tickets. It would take a lot of work, a lot of perseverance, but it would get him out
of here, he just knew it. He eagerly dropped the tickets in, the wheel spun around, and...
"Skills: Brine, Celebrate, Shed Tail, Nuzzle, Devastating Drake (Special). Pokemon:
Enamorus."
Well. Considering that his entire plan had been to get a Flying-Type Pokemon large
enough to ride, that made this whole thing a little bit anticlimactic. But whatever.
Ryga didn't know how he'd gotten here or where he was going. But right now, he was
flying out of the South Pole on the back of a giant turtle-snake, his omnipresent god companion
named Dave by his side. All in all, things could be much worse.
Green grass on the horizon. Ryga grinned, patting Enamorus' side, nudging it to speed
up. "C'mon, ol' girl. Almost there."
He didn't know how he'd gotten here or where he was going, but he knew that wherever
he ended up, it would be a greater adventure than he ever could've hoped for.