Chapter 1: The Weight of Graduation
The towering spires of Rittersberg Institute of Mech Design stood proud against the afternoon sun, their metallic surfaces gleaming with the promise of a future in the stars. For Blake Carter, this was both a moment of triumph and a daunting leap into the unknown. He stood amidst the throngs of freshly minted graduates, their faces alight with joy, relief, and determination. Yet, Blake couldn't shake the quiet apprehension coiling in his chest.
"You did it, Blake," he murmured to himself, clutching the edge of his certificate. The weight of the document seemed heavier than it should, as if it carried not just his accomplishments but the ghosts of two lives.
Blake's mind wandered back to the feverish week that had changed his life forever. That relentless headache, the visions, and eventually the flood of memories from a world not his own. A world where the story of Ves Larkinson—an unassuming mech designer who rose to greatness—had captivated readers, himself included. At first, he dismissed it as a strange delusion, but over the years, as fragments of knowledge lined up too perfectly with reality, he had no choice but to accept the truth.
He was living in *The Mech Touch.*
---
The graduating crowd began to disperse, some laughing as they made plans for celebratory dinners, others hastily making calls to potential employers. Blake remained rooted in place, his thoughts spiraling.
"What now?" he muttered.
Unlike many of his peers, Blake didn't have a family to celebrate with. The orphanage that had raised him had sent a congratulatory message earlier, and while he appreciated the sentiment, it felt hollow. The scholarship that had carried him through Rittersberg was a lifeline, but it hadn't done much to connect him with others.
He looked down at his certificate again. His grades were solid, but not extraordinary. His E-grade genetic aptitude, the curse of mediocrity, ensured that he'd always struggle in certain areas—especially piloting simulations. But his memories, his uncanny foresight, had given him an edge in design and problem-solving. That edge had brought him here, but would it be enough?
---
Blake's stomach growled, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Guess it's time to eat," he sighed, heading toward the campus cafeteria one last time. On the way, he opened his comm and scrolled through Iron Spirit's forums. Even after countless hours grinding in the game, the vibrant community never failed to amuse him.
Messages from players filled his feed:
*FlameKnight97: Need help ranking up! Offering 200 credits per match!*
*Starborn_93: Selling a custom knight mech blueprint, PM for details!*
Blake smirked. Iron Spirit had been his financial lifeline throughout college. Using his E-grade aptitude as a selling point, he had built a niche reputation as a reliable guide for low-ranked players. While he couldn't outmatch high-tier players in sheer reaction time, his intimate knowledge of mech mechanics and tactics allowed him to shine in team-based matches. It also helped that he knew a thing or two about his opponents' tendencies, thanks to those mysterious memories.
---
Blake arrived at the cafeteria, grabbing a tray of synth-steak and mashed potatoes. He scanned the room for a familiar face but found none. Most of his classmates had formed tight-knit groups early on, and he'd always been something of an outsider. Instead, he found a corner table and began eating in silence.
"Blake! There you are!"
A voice broke through his solitude. He looked up to see Ray, his long red hair tied back in a loose ponytail, striding toward him with a wide grin. Behind him, Rina, Ezra, and Liam followed, their presence lighting up the drab cafeteria.
"We couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," Ray said, dropping into the seat across from Blake.
Blake raised an eyebrow. "How'd you even find me?"
"Ezra," Rina said, nodding toward the petite girl with a wild grin. "She's got a knack for tracking people down."
"What can I say?" Ezra smirked. "I'm resourceful."
Rina rolled her eyes before turning back to Blake. "We just wanted to congratulate you. Graduating from Rittersberg isn't something everyone can pull off."
Liam, ever the quiet one, gave Blake a rare smile. "You've earned it."
"Thanks," Blake said, a flicker of warmth breaking through his uncertainty. "That means a lot."
---
As they chatted, the conversation drifted to their plans. Ray and Rina were cadets at a prestigious mech academy on Rittersberg, training to become pilots. Ezra and Liam, also cadets in their batch, shared their ambitions—Ezra dreamed of piloting bestial mechs, while Liam favored spaceborn models.
"What about you, Blake?" Ray asked, his gaze steady.
Blake hesitated. "I'm… still figuring it out."
Rina frowned. "You don't have anything lined up?"
"Not yet," Blake admitted. "But I'll manage."
The group fell silent for a moment before Ray clapped him on the back. "You'll be fine. You've got a knack for making things work. Just don't disappear on us, okay?"
Blake nodded, feeling a surge of determination. These friends, though met online, had become a steadying force in his life. They believed in him, even when he doubted himself.
---
Later that evening, Blake stood outside the cafeteria, staring up at the star-speckled sky. The future was uncertain, but for now, he had his memories, his skills, and a small but steadfast group of friends. He clenched his fists, determination hardening his resolve.
"One step at a time," he told himself.
And with that, Blake Carter took his first step into the unknown.