-Medreth, Waste World-
-Year 4500 AD-
It was cozy and warm. The chair I was reclined on was cushioned for the best comfort, which was odd. My office chair was far from comfortable.
Then I opened my eyes.
I found myself inside a circular structure which only had space enough for the seat.
When the hatch slid side ward, an entirely different world greeted my eyes.
Piles of wastes stretched on every side. It was cold, and the wind smelled of metal and chemicals. Not a single tree, or stalk of grass was in sight and the ground was dead like the desert.
Where am I? Why did I end up here?
When I inspected myself, even more questions came to mind.
Not mentioning the unfamiliar thick suit I was wearing, it certainly was not my body. I was a twenty five year old salary man, and the body was that of a teenager.
Without warning, memories of another person came pouring into my mind. It was rude and sudden, and I felt immense pain in my head. I fell to my knees, grunting in pain, both of my hands on my temples.
The body's memories revealed that the boy was a son of a prominent nobleman from a planet called Meladar. A political struggle ensued, and his father was executed for associating with the wrong individuals, while his family was mercifully exiled. The boy and his mother were supposed to be transported to one of the outer planets. But the convoy of spaceships escorting them was attacked. Before their ship exploded, the boy was placed in an escape pod. And that was why he ended up in the planet.
I felt like I could have recalled more, but a robotic voice interrupted my mental exercise.
Surprised, I immediately turned on my back to face the voice that was behind me. I found a droid. Something out of the Star Wars Franchise.
It was a bot half my size. A mini-sensor was on its dome head, and two hands on its cylinder body. It used wheels to navigate around.
He looked harmless, there was no weapon on him and he was small enough that I could probably overpower him. So I decided to tensed down.
I wanted to ask a question, but it spoke again.
"Tutorial Tasks?" I meant to inquire, but the words summoned a floating window.
I barely heard the bot, my attention arrested by what was before my eyes.
[Tutorial Tasks (Armor Crafting):
*Scavenge Low-Grade Metal Scraps x10
*Refine Metal Scraps into Metal Plates
*Craft Metal Breastplate
Rewards: Metal Helmet 1x, Metal Leg Armor 1x, Metal Boots 1x, Random Blueprint.]
The scenario was not completely unfamiliar with me, having played numerous RPGs in my youth and having read about transmigration. But I have trouble understanding how all this was possible. I was nonreligious, but if there was an afterlife, I was fairly certain it would not look this.
"Inventory."
The window before me was replaced by one with an inventory interface. The window was divided into two sections. The left section showed an image of me and the equipment slots. Only then did I know how I looked like: Curly black hair, brown eyes and a youthful face.
The second section showed my inventory slots, and there was only a single item available.
It was a bizarre instruction, but everything around had been bizzer. Throwing logic out of the window, I plunged my hand into the pickaxe slot. Surprisingly, my hand sunk in and grabbed hold of the wooden handle.
As advertised, I extracted a whole pickaxe. It was well-made and light, but nothing out of ordinary. To better hold it, I stood up from my awkward position, then looked down when the bot resumed its instructions.
I was wondering why I needed a pickaxe, and it was promptly answered. There was a conveniently placed trash pile nearby.
When I was near enough, a floating window appeared above the trash pile, just like in RPG games.
[Small Metal Pile]
The bot followed behind me, almost silently, were it not for the occasional squeaks. It spoke again when I was standing in front of the trash pile.
Getting the hang of things, I obeyed without much thought. At the first strike, a durability bar appeared on the description, and with each strike, the gray color that filled the bar slowly decreased.
No more than ten strikes, the trash pile disappeared after a gentle and smoky explosion. When the smoke faded, revealed was floating debris that immediately made way to my chest.
I flinched, anticipating pain from the collision, but they disappeared inside me. Another floating window, rectangular and smaller, answered my confusion.
[Obtained Low-Grade Metal Scraps x10]
[Task Achieved: Scavenge Low-grade Metal Scraps x10]
Heeding the bot, I intended to mutter the command, but a window popped up with just the thought.
A list was presented to me, 'Metal Plate' and 'Metal Pipe', appeared on the very top and the only ones not grayed out. My gaming instincts kicked in, and I reached out my hand on the menu without the bot's instructions.
[Common Item: Metal Plate
Crafting recipe:
Metal Scrap x1 + Metal Scrap x1 = Metal Plate x1]
[Craft]
I looked at the droid, it simply nodded. Perhaps lauding my initiative.
I pressed the craft button ten times.
[Metal Plate x5 crafted]
[Acquired 50xp]
Right after that, something happened. The 'Metal Plate' and the 'Metal Pipe' options disappeared from the top of the list.
Replacing their spots were a new set of metal items, including armor parts.
[Common Item: Metal Breastplate
Crafting Recipe:
Metal Plate x5 = Metal Helmet x1]
[Craft]
[Metal Breastplate x1 Crafted]
[Acquired 100 XP]
[Tutorial Tasks (Armor Crafting) Completed]
[Obtained Metal Helmet x1]
[Obtained Metal Leg Armor x1]
[Obtained Metal Boots x1]
[Obtained Locmann-34 Pistol Blueprint]
[Acquired 150xp]
[You have leveled up]