I've never been one for faith. God, an afterlife – it all seemed like wishful thinking to me, something for the governments to use to keep people in line. The idea of a higher power, a divine plan, felt like a comforting lie, a way to explain the inexplicable and offer solace in the face of suffering. I preferred to face reality head-on, even if it meant accepting the harsh truth that life was ultimately meaningless.
"We should have fixed that stove weeks ago… At least it was quick. I hope my parents aren't too devastated to find me as a charred corpse… I hope my cat is okay. He was outside, I think."
But now, here I was—dead, staring into a void that stretched out into forever. Stars filled the endless blackness, millions of them, in every color imaginable and beyond, like scattered jewels across the night. They pulsed and swirled in a breathtaking cosmic dance. Among them, one star stood out: larger, brighter, radiating a piercing light that seemed to tear through the fabric of the void. It was still, yet somehow seemed to grow in size.
My mind raced, trying to process it all. "If it looks like it isn't moving, then you should…" An old warning about tornadoes, one I'd heard as a kid, echoed in my head. Cold dread flooded over me. "Oh, no. OH FUCK!"
Then the star hit me.
A searing agony tore through my being, like my very essence was being ripped apart, rewritten, and stitched back together. I tried to scream, but in this vast emptiness, the sound was swallowed whole.
𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍.
"FUCK YOU!" I roared, my voice raw and ragged.
𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!" I screamed, but the question faded into the void, left unanswered.
The stars blurred, their light dimmed, and the entire scene dissolved into a swirling black abyss.
I opened my eyes, the sharp, acrid scent of chemicals and dust stinging my nose. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed behind my temples as nausea swept over me. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in my shoulder forced me back down. Groaning, I looked around, vision blurred at first, then gradually sharpening. I was in a cramped metal shack, its walls lined with shelves overflowing with rusty tools, cracked vials, and dusty containers of unknown liquids. The air was thick with the smell of burnt metal—and something else, something acrid and unfamiliar.
My gaze settled on a jagged hole in the far wall, the metal twisted and charred as if something had exploded, scattering debris across the floor. A chill crept down my spine.
I forced myself upright with a groan, my body protesting every movement. The world around me slowly came into focus. Where was I? What had happened? The last thing I remembered was… the stove, the fire, then darkness.
"So… I've been isekaied," I muttered, my voice hoarse. "But the real question is: where to?" I looked around, taking in the strange surroundings, a gnawing sense of unease growing in my gut. This wasn't Kansas anymore.
"Let's see if this works… Status!" Silence. I tried again, louder. "Status!" Nothing. Disappointment washed over me. "Menu?"
𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙰. 𝙳𝚊𝚠𝚗
𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 1
𝙷𝙿: 93/100
𝙼𝙿: 0/0
Perks
(𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚔) 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍
"Starter perk?" I muttered, squinting at the words. I hovered a finger over the text, and a new menu unfolded.
(𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚔) 𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚎𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝙼𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚒𝚝.
"Militech?!" My voice hitched, and a cold dread clenched in my stomach. "please tell me I'm not in Cyberpunk."
_______________________________________________________________
Hey everyone! This is my first jump into fanfiction, so I'm eager to hear your thoughts. Feel free to offer any critiques or feedback you have – I'm always looking to improve. Stay tuned for a longer chapter in a few days!
"If I'm in Cyberpunk, I am so screwed! I only got as far as the Arasaka heist!"
The words echoed in the empty air, barely leaving my mouth before the full weight of my situation hit me. My heart was pounding, hammering in my chest like a warning alarm, but I forced myself forward, trudging toward the gaping hole in the shack's side. Every step felt heavy, each one echoing a mix of fear and disbelief as I braced for what lay beyond. My mind conjured up images of the neon chaos I'd seen in-game—towering skyscrapers, flashing billboards, and the sounds of gunshots. But as I near the hole, reality greeted me with the sight of dirt, sand, and a rusted-out car barely covered by a weather-beaten tarp, clinging on by a few tattered threads.
The desolation was almost disappointing, a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled panic that had gripped me just moments before. I scanned the landscape, and the silence pressed down on me like a weight.
"Well, at least I'm not in Night City itself," I muttered, more for my own reassurance than anything. I scanned the bleak surroundings. "I think this place was called the Badlands… or something like that." The emptiness was unnerving, the silence pressing in on me as if the very air held its breath. If I was anywhere near the outskirts of Night City, this was no place to let my guard down.
My eyes landed on a row of metal cabinets nestled against the wall, their surfaces dull and pocked with grime. They looked like they hadn't been opened in years, maybe decades, but if I was going to survive out here, I needed something to defend myself. Anything.
The first cabinet resisted, squealing as I pried it open. Inside was a mishmash of rusted tools: an old wrench, a chipped screwdriver, and a large, empty CHOO2 bottle. I grimaced at the useless junk. Drawer after drawer, my frustration mounting, turned up more useless parts and broken equipment. Finally, in the last cabinet, something caught my eye. There, under a tattered rag, was a pistol, small, dark, and unmistakable. I reached for it cautiously, feeling the rough, cold metal in my hands. It had seen better days—the once-black surface was flecked with orange and brown from years of neglect—but there, on the side, the name "Arasaka" was etched, the letters faded but unmistakable. The sight of the name sent a chill through me. Arasaka… one of the most infamous corporations in Cyberpunk. And here I was, holding one of their weapons,
I tried to steady my breathing as I checked the magazine slot, half-hoping for some miracle. But of course, it was empty. No ammo. Figures. Letting out a shaky breath, I tucked the pistol into my belt, its weight providing a strange comfort. Even without bullets, it was better than nothing. At least it looked intimidating, and maybe I could use it as a bluff—or a blunt weapon, if it came to that. Finding ammo was my next priority, but for now, it would have to do.
I forced myself toward the door, knowing that I couldn't stay holed up in this shack forever. The shack had served as a momentary shelter, but whatever fate had dropped me here, there was no turning back. My hand hovered over the door handle, fingers brushing the cold metal as anxiety clawed at me. The unknown loomed on the other side, a hostile world that might not offer a second chance.
Taking a deep breath, I gripped the handle tightly, feeling its chill bite into my palm. I was ready—well, as ready as I could be. I twisted the handle and pushed the door open, stepping outside.
Just then, a sudden flash caught my eye. A transparent window appeared in mid-air before me, and I blinked, trying to make sense of the text floating there.
__________________________
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜!
𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚔:
(𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜)
"𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜! 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝. 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎! 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎 – 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜!"
__________________________
𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍!
𝙾𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚔.
𝚁𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍: 1 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝙸𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗
𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢: 𝙶𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚔 - "𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍"
__________________________
I blinked, half in disbelief, rereading the message. "Well, I was going to look around anyway, System. No need to threaten me," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Despite my sarcasm, the absurdity of the situation brought a strange comfort.
I started circling the shack, my eyes scanning the barren landscape. The rusted car lay half-buried in the sand, and I tugged at the door handle just to see if anything was inside, but it was jammed tight. Giving up, I continued my survey, noting the eerie silence. Even the wind felt muted, like it was holding its breath.
That's when I spotted it: a larger structure down the hill. Partially hidden by a rise of sand, I saw a sign jutting out from the roof. Squinting, I realized it looked like an old gas station. A flicker of hope sparked in me—maybe I'd find something useful there. At the very least, it was shelter.
Making my way down the slope, the sand crunching under my boots, I got a closer look at the station. It was battered, weather-beaten, and faded, clearly abandoned for years. As I approached, I noticed a faded scantily clad anime girl on the side of one of the pumps, her wide, cartoonish eyes sparkling as she held the nozzle to her mouth in a chugging pose. The pastel colors were worn, but they still managed to stand out against the rusted metal. Above her, a slogan read, "Fuel Your Dreams with CHOO2 Super Mega! Only at Davy's Refuel!"
I shook my head, letting out a dry laugh. "Alright, this is officially surreal." Whoever ran this place must have had an odd sense of humor or a very specific audience in mind. The absurdity of it all helped to ease my nerves, but a lingering unease kept me on edge as I made my way to the door.
The windows were cracked, clouded with grime, making it impossible to see inside. I reached for the handle, hesitated, then forced it open. The door resisted at first, but with a sharp tug, it creaked open, releasing a stale, suffocating smell. I coughed, the stench almost unbearable—it was as if something had died in there.
I stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the cracked windows. Shelves were overturned, graffiti plastered the walls, and trash littered every surface. I grimaced at the foul odor that seemed to cling to everything, and my eyes fell on something slumped behind the counter.
A dead body.
I froze, horror chilling my blood, but after a moment, I forced myself to step closer. The body had been stripped of his eyes and arm, a bullet wound in the chest. This wasn't some random death—someone had taken what they could use and left the rest behind, like spare parts. The nametag on the corpse read: "David Barnes."
So, this was Davy—the Davy of Davy's Refuel. Had he been robbed? why did no one move his body? My mind spun with questions, none of which I wanted answers to.
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝!
A shiver ran through me, and I knew one thing for sure: I was going to hate it here.
_________________________________________
Hey everyone! Back again with another banger chapter, and I'm so stoked to share it with you all. Seriously, thank you so much for all the love and support on the last one. It means the world to me!
huge shoutout to adamhvhvhv for being an absolute madlad and beta reading this chapter for me.
I let out a long, weary sigh as I placed the last stone atop the makeshift grave. Each rock had been hauled from the hard, gritty earth around me, and the search for suitable stones had taken longer than I'd expected. I'd carried them one by one, my shoulders straining under the weight, I couldn't leave him there, abandoned and forgotten in the dirty, deserted store. Something about the silent, still figure lying amid the decay had gnawed at me. I didn't know him, didn't know his story, but he deserved more than to decay unceremoniously in the dust.
Kneeling down, I pressed my hand into the cool dirt, a quiet gesture of respect. "David Barnes," I whispered, repeating the name
"Rest in peace, David," I murmured, my voice barely audible. The silence around me was thick, as if the world itself had paused for a breath, acknowledging the loss.
I turned away with a heavy heart, making my way back toward the gas station as the first chill of the desert night crept in. In the distance, I could see the faint glow of Night City lights flickering against the horizon. My footsteps were heavy as I walked, the quiet around me amplifying the crunch of sand and gravel beneath my boots.
Back inside, the emptiness of the gas station was overwhelming. The faint creaks of the old building and the distant rustle of the wind outside were my only company. I made my way behind the counter.
I found a piece of cardboard, worn and stained, which I flattened onto the floor to serve as a makeshift mat. I'd made a quick detour back to the rusted car outside to grab the tattered tarp I'd spotted earlier. It was riddled with holes and smelled faintly of mildew, but it was the closest thing I'd get to a blanket tonight. Settling onto the cardboard, I draped the tarp over myself, its rough fabric scratching against my skin. It wasn't comfortable, but it was something.
Lying there, I stared up at the cracked ceiling, watching shadows shift as the last of the sunlight faded. The air was thick with the stale scent of fuel, dust, and an unsettling metallic tang I didn't want to think about. I was alone in the dark, with only the sound of the wind outside and the cold, impersonal world waiting beyond these walls.
Then, as I lay there shivering, I remembered the common item token from that strange quest notification earlier. I shifted to sit up, a flicker of hope sparking inside me. "Menu," I said aloud. a translucent interface appeared in front of me, glowing faintly in the dim light.
𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙰. 𝙳𝚊𝚠𝚗
𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 1
𝙷𝙿: 100/100
𝙼𝙿: 0/0
𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜
(𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍)
(𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜)
+1 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢
"Oh, I have an inventory?" I muttered, a bit irritated. "That would have been nice to know when I was lugging around rocks all day." I chuckled bitterly to myself. "Inventory!"
A new window appeared, revealing a grid of empty slots with one item glowing in the corner: the common item token. I selected it, and a colorful roulette wheel spun into view, filled with images of random objects—some useful, some strange, some downright confusing. Finally, with a loud click, the wheel stopped. A bright light flashed, and with a puff of digital smoke, something materialized in front of me. I squinted, leaning forward to make sense of what I was looking at. Sitting before me was… a jar. A plain, glass jar filled with dirt.
Jar of Dirt – Pirates of the Caribbean
The jar of dirt was a glass jar filled with dirt, given to Captain Jack Sparrow by Tia Dalma as a form of protection against Davy Jones during Sparrow's search for the Dead Man's Chest in an attempt to settle his debt with Jones.
"Wait… that's it? A jar of dirt?" I groaned, picking it up to inspect it. The glass was scratched, and the dirt inside was as unremarkable as it could possibly be. It had the faintest smell of Booze.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Of all the items I could have gotten… A JAR OF DIRT?" My voice echoed around the empty station, my frustration bouncing back at me.
I groaned, turning it over. The jar was plain, scratched, and filled with nothing but ordinary dirt. "Really? Of all things—a jar of dirt?" I muttered, exasperation thick in my voice. I set it aside, grumbling.
Still, with nothing else to occupy my mind, I spent the next hour fiddling with my cyberdeck. Eventually, exhaustion overcame my frustration, and I drifted off to sleep, buried under the thin tarp.
The blaring of the cyberdecks alarm jolted me awake the next morning. I groaned as I shifted, feeling a sharp ache shoot through my neck. The cardboard beneath me crackled, reminding me of the pitiful makeshift bed I'd scraped together the night before. I rubbed the sore spot on my neck, feeling the stiffness radiate down into my shoulders. Every muscle felt tight, worn from the hard floor and the chilly air that had seeped through my meager tarp blanket.
Sitting up, I blinked the sleep from my eyes and took in the dim, washed-out light filtering through the gas station windows. The stale air clung to me, smelling faintly of dust, oil, and something metallic that I still couldn't identify. I stretched my back, trying to work out the kinks as I looked around, taking in my surroundings with a tired sigh.
Rubbing the back of my neck. The dirt and dust clinging to my clothes seemed to be a permanent part of me now, like a layer of grime that no amount of scrubbing could remove.
I reached for the jar of dirt, still sitting on the counter where I'd left it. I lifted it up, rolling it in my hands, wondering if it had some hidden purpose I just hadn't figured out yet. Why would the wheel give me something so useless? I shook it a little, as if that would magically reveal some answer hidden within the dirt. But it remained, stubbornly, just a jar of dirt.
Setting it back down, I ran my hand through my hair, wondering what my next move should be. Night City was out there, not too far but not exactly close either. Part of me was tempted to head in that direction, to see if there was any way to claw back a shred of the life I'd once known. But another part of me, the part that had seen the worst of what the city could do, hesitated. Out here, at least, I had control over my own survival. Inside the city, you never knew whose game you were a pawn in.
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𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚀𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚌𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍!
𝙾𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎: 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎
𝚁𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍: 3 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝙸𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚃𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜
𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢: ???
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I took a deep breath, feeling a small surge of adrenaline course through me. This was more than just surviving; this was a directive, a clear objective to make this place safer. I looked around the station, my eyes scanning over the dingy, dimly lit space with a new sense of purpose. It was more than a crumbling shelter—it was my base, my fortress, if only for the time being.
As I looked closer, I noticed a few stray wires poking out from behind one of the counters, frayed and rusty, but still somewhat intact. An idea started to form in my mind. Maybe, with a little creativity, I could rig up a rudimentary alarm system, something that might warn me if anyone—or anything—tried to sneak in.
I crouched down and gently tugged the wires free, untangling them from years of dust and grime. The faint scent of rust filled the air as I worked, and I tried not to breathe too deeply. These old wires were brittle, some even crumbling at the edges, but if I twisted them just right, maybe I could get a reliable connection.
Beside the counter, I spotted a few empty cans. With a bit of ingenuity, maybe I could rig them to rattle if someone disturbed the wires. I got to work, my fingers moving almost instinctively as I tried to piece together a makeshift alarm. The process felt oddly meditative, each twist of the wire, each loop and knot, carrying a strange sense of satisfaction. even this small act of creativity felt like a victory.
As I twisted the last wire into place, I felt a faint hum of energy buzzing beneath my fingertips. Ding! A notification blinked to life in the corner of my vision.
(You have acquired the BoobyTrap skill)
The words hovered there, glowing faintly, and for a moment, and Another notification appeared, following the first:
(You have acquired the Engineering skill)
Engineering? The title alone made me sit up a little straighter, a faint smirk crossing my lips as I glanced down at my crude setup. "Engineering, huh?" I muttered, amused by the idea of myself as some sort of makeshift engineer.
I leaned back to examine my work, my mind racing with ideas. The wires were strung together in a loose loop, just sensitive enough that any slight movement would jostle the cans, creating a makeshift alarm. Not exactly high-tech, but for the moment, it was all I had. The rusted cans would rattle, hopefully loud enough to wake me if someone, or something, tried to sneak in during the night.
I sat back, feeling the satisfaction settle deeper. I'd turned scraps into something useful, something that could mean the difference between waking up in the morning or not. In this desolate world, every small victory counted. Each piece of junk I could reimagine, each trap I could set, would keep me one step ahead.
I sighed. Apparently, a simple tripwire wasn't enough to complete the quest. I'd need to think a little bigger, make this place actually look fortified. My gaze wandered toward the old shed out back, one I'd initially dismissed as useless. Maybe there was something over there that I could use.
Heading outside, I made my way to the shed.
I find a pile of scrap metal leaning against the wall. Jackpot.
The metal pieces were old and rough, covered in a layer of grime, but they seemed sturdy enough. I grabbed a few manageable sheets, dragging them back toward the CHOO2 station with some effort. They clanged and scraped as I set them down, the sound echoing in the quiet, and I couldn't help but feel a little exposed out here.
Once back at the station, I sized up the windows. The glass was already cracked and grimy, offering little in the way of real protection. I lifted one of the metal sheets, pressing it against the window frame to check the fit. It didn't cover the whole pane, but it was better than nothing. At least it'd be harder for anyone to break through in one go.
Carefully, I propped the metal sheets against each window, using some old bricks and chunks of concrete I found lying around to hold them in place. It wasn't elegant—far from it—but each metal sheet offered a bit of extra security, or at least it would make enough noise if anyone tried to pry them off.
As I finished the last window, another notification appeared
𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 3 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝!
The notification hung in the air for a moment before fading, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Finally, something that wasn't just the barren, empty void of my inventory. I quickly accessed my menu and selected the three tokens, wondering what kind of strange, random items I might get this time.
The familiar roulette wheel appeared before me, spinning with an array of brightly lit options—tools, gadgets, strange objects that I could barely recognize, and a few familiar-looking icons from games I had long forgotten. I watched it spin, waiting for the suspense to build, hoping for something useful, something that could improve my situation.
The wheel slowed, and I held my breath as it clicked to a stop. First, a flash of colorful lights.
Chica's Skinny Taco (FNaF Security Breach)
An entree served at El Chip's. It has strawberries, some greens, and other unidentified ingredients.
Strawberries. Inside the taco. Strawberries in a taco? Who in their right mind would mix those things together?
I grimaced, pushing the thought aside. It didn't matter—beggars couldn't be choosers, right?
Before I could finish processing the odd meal, the wheel spun again, landing on a much more intriguing prize.
Lucky Vault Boy Bobblehead (Fallout 4)
A small, cheerful bobblehead that boosts your luck with a Vault tech quality grin. You are just a bit more lucky with this little guy around.
Now that was something I could get behind. Luck could be the deciding factor in this messed-up world, and an extra boost certainly wouldn't hurt.
the wheel spun again and...
JC JENSON Pen (Murder Drones)
Bless the well-made quality assured durability of JC Jenson! This pen even comes with free onboarding pamphlet to indoctrinate prepare you for a life of corporate servitude. How generous!
I felt a surge of optimism, just a small glimmer in the otherwise grim day. But the thought of the taco made me shudder again. Not wanting to waste anything, I carefully unpacked the taco and picked out the strawberries. I didn't even want to think about eating those things with the taco filling, so I decided to repurpose them.
I glanced around for something to plant them in and smiled when I remembered the Jar of Dirt from earlier. Taking the strawberries, I gently placed them in the jar, poking small holes in the dirt and burying the fruit as best I could. Who knew? Maybe they'd grow into something useful.
I placed the jar in the corner of the gas station, it might provide me with a spark of hope or nourishment. For now, it will be my little project—something to keep me occupied, i think i will call him Barry
As for the taco, well... I will have to deal with eating it… hope the strawberries juices didn't Ruin it to much