Chapter 2: Awakening in a New World
Dylan blinked into the brightness. The harsh light felt like needles stabbing his eyes, making him squint as his vision slowly adjusted. At first, everything was a blur—a dazzling haze of white. Gradually, the shapes around him began to sharpen into discernible forms. A ceiling. Polished, metallic surfaces. His body floated weightlessly for a brief moment before settling against something smooth and cold beneath him.
Confusion gripped his mind, and he struggled to piece together what had happened. Images flashed in his mind like disjointed memories: The car. The crash. The pain that had ripped through his body. Had he survived? Was this… a hospital?
He blinked hard, trying to focus, and as his surroundings came into full clarity, his heart sank. Wherever he was, it was not any hospital he had ever seen. The room was unnervingly clean—sterile to the point of unnatural perfection. The air was too crisp, too artificial, like it had been recycled one too many times. There were no windows, only smooth metallic walls that glowed faintly in the soft ambient light. He looked down to find himself lying in some sort of transparent pod, the kind he had only seen in science fiction movies.
"Welcome, Dylan Trafford," a robotic voice intoned from somewhere nearby, causing him to jolt upright. He moved too quickly, and a wave of dizziness washed over him, but his instincts forced him to scan his surroundings for the source of the voice.
There was no one else in the room.
"You have been assigned to a Copper family in the Galactic Empire," the voice continued, eerily calm and emotionless. "Please exit the pod for further instructions."
Dylan's pulse quickened as he processed the words. What the hell was going on? He climbed out of the pod cautiously, his legs shaky but functional. His heart raced as panic swelled within him. The room was sleek, minimalist, and entirely futuristic. Strange machines lined the walls, their purpose inscrutable to him. There was no medical equipment. No monitors or IVs. No nurses, no doctors. The faint, sterile hum of the machines made the silence even more disorienting.
"Where am I?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular. His voice sounded thin, swallowed by the vast emptiness of the room.
The robotic voice ignored his question. Instead, something shimmered in the air in front of him. At first, it was just a blur of light, but soon the figure of a woman materialized. No, not a woman. An AI, humanoid in form but unmistakably artificial. Her skin was smooth and metallic, glowing faintly as if powered from within. Her eyes, glowing white, gazed at him impassively, her expression calm—too calm, like she was programmed for endless patience.
"You are now part of the Galactic Empire," the AI said, her voice unnervingly gentle for such a surreal proclamation. "Society is divided into three ranks: Copper, Silver, and Gold. You have been assigned to the Copper rank. Your previous life is no longer relevant here. Your new life begins today."
Dylan felt his heart lurch in his chest. The Galactic Empire? Copper rank? He had no idea what she was talking about. His mind reeled, racing through a hundred questions, but no answers seemed to make sense. This had to be a dream—some bizarre, hyper-realistic nightmare. But everything felt too vivid, too real. The chill of the metal floor beneath his feet, the sterile air in his lungs, the faint hum of machinery around him—it all anchored him to the terrifying reality that this wasn't a dream.
"Why me?" he managed to whisper, barely able to speak through the fear constricting his throat.
The AI didn't blink. "You were selected based on your latent potential for innovation," she said, her voice as steady as ever. "Your skills as a game analyst and reviewer have been noted. You will find your place in Copper, and if you innovate or improve upon society, you may ascend to Silver or Gold."
Dylan stared at her, his brain struggling to process the absurdity of her words. His skills? His gaming? What did any of that have to do with this place? He wasn't some kind of inventor or scientist—he reviewed video games for a living. Was this some kind of mistake?
Before he could formulate another question, the AI gestured towards a door at the far end of the room. It slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. "Your new family awaits," she said.
Dylan's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps. His mind was a whirlpool of confusion and fear. Family? What family? He had a family, but they were back in the world he knew—his world. But even as he considered this, some part of him already knew he wasn't going back. Wherever he was now, it was far from anything familiar.
The AI didn't wait for him to move. She turned on her heel and began walking toward the open door. Her movements were unnervingly fluid, almost too smooth, as if she was a perfectly calibrated machine. Dylan hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the pod he had emerged from, half-expecting to wake up at any second. But no—this was real. Too real.
With a deep breath, he followed her.
The corridor was long, and the dim lighting cast eerie shadows on the walls. As they walked, Dylan noticed more of the strange machinery embedded in the walls, humming faintly with an energy he couldn't quite place. The air was sterile, too clean, and it had an almost clinical feel to it, like the entire space was designed to be devoid of any organic imperfections. It made his skin crawl.
Finally, the AI stopped in front of a large door, which slid open just as the other had. Beyond it was a large, open room—again sleek, metallic, and unnervingly sterile. But this room wasn't empty.
Inside, three figures stood waiting for him. They were human—or at least, they looked human—but there was something about them that immediately set them apart from anyone Dylan had ever met. The tallest of the three, a man with short-cropped silver hair and piercing blue eyes, stepped forward. His clothes were simple but well-made, giving him an air of authority.
"Welcome, Dylan Trafford," the man said, his voice calm but commanding. "I am Kaden, and this is my wife, Elara, and our daughter, Lyra. We are your assigned family."
Dylan blinked, trying to absorb the information. Assigned family? What did that even mean? His mind buzzed with a thousand questions, but none of them made it past his lips.
"You must have many questions," Kaden continued, his sharp gaze studying Dylan with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. "But for now, it is important that you understand the basics. You have been brought to the Galactic Empire to serve a purpose. You have been assigned to the Copper rank, as most newcomers are. Your role will be to work, innovate, and contribute to society. In time, if you prove yourself, you may ascend to the Silver or Gold ranks."
Dylan's mind whirled. Prove himself? Contribute? What exactly did they expect him to do? He had spent his life analyzing and reviewing video games, not designing them, not inventing anything of real-world importance.
"I don't understand," Dylan said, his voice shaky. "Why me? Why am I here?"
Elara, the woman beside Kaden, smiled kindly. "The Empire selects those with potential—those who can bring something new to our society. Your skills, while different from the technical fields, are still valuable. The Empire values all forms of creativity and innovation."
"Creativity?" Dylan echoed, incredulous. "I play games. I write about them. How is that supposed to help… whatever this place is?"
Lyra, the young woman who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. Her eyes were sharp, assessing him with an almost unnerving curiosity. "The Empire's strength lies in its ability to adapt," she said. "And adaptation comes from all forms of ingenuity. You may not see it yet, but your skills have merit here. You will learn, in time."
Dylan didn't know what to say. The entire situation felt surreal, like he had been thrown into the middle of a story he didn't understand. But there was no denying the weight of their words. This wasn't a dream, and it wasn't some kind of joke. Whatever the Galactic Empire was, they had chosen him for a reason.
He just wished he knew what that reason was.