Jack Bridges let out a long sigh, his fingers hovering above the keyboard before letting them rest. Another chapter down. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing at the blinking cursor as if it held the secret to his life's success. Eight years. He'd been at this for eight years, churning out book after book, all met with decent but not spectacular success. Enough to pay the bills, not enough to live the dream. Certainly not enough to make him feel like he'd made a mark on Terra, the world that had become his reluctant home.
Terra looked like Earth. It smelled like Earth, felt like Earth, but it was ahead. Technology here was years ahead of anything Jack remembered from the world he was born into. Especially when it came to VR. The whole planet seemed obsessed with immersive experiences—games, simulations, virtual lifestyles. Everything here felt like it was pushing the boundaries of reality, while Jack's skills as a writer—merely banging out words on a screen—felt stuck in the past.
The cursor blinked at him as if mocking his stagnation. He frowned, glancing over at the corner of his small studio where an ancient VR headset sat gathering dust. Jack grimaced. He couldn't code, couldn't paint, couldn't do anything that would let him make use of Terra's advanced tech. All he had was his storytelling—enough to scrape by, but not enough to break out.
"If only life were a video game," he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. "I'd have a hell of a lot more cheat codes."
The clock on the wall read 8:30 PM, and his stomach grumbled in agreement. He reached for the takeout box on his desk, ready to resign himself to another lonely dinner of leftover noodles, when a shiver ran down his spine. Jack froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Something was off—a strange, electric feeling buzzing in the air.
"Can you hear me now?!"
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Jack jumped, noodles spilling across his desk as his eyes darted around the room. A flicker of blue light appeared before him, swirling like mist until it solidified into the shape of a young girl—half-transparent, floating a few feet above the ground. She looked about fifteen, dressed in flowing robes, her eyes an otherworldly shade of cyan.
Jack blinked once, twice. He slowly put down his fork, wiped his hand on his shirt, and let out a deep breath. "Well, that's new," he said.
The girl's eyes narrowed as she floated closer. "I have introduced myself three times already. Are you going to listen now?"
Jack stared for another moment, then nodded slowly. "Sure. I'm all ears."
The girl crossed her arms, looking somewhat relieved. "My name is Cyan. I was once a Creator—a god of sorts. My world was destroyed, but now, I've awakened thanks to your consciousness." She gave him a serious look. "This world—your world—is in grave danger. Invaders from beyond are coming. They will shatter your reality, consume everything you know."
Jack frowned, finally pushing his chair back and standing up. He grabbed a napkin and wiped the spilled noodles from his keyboard. "Right. And you chose me for this epic mission because...?"
Cyan hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed. "Because… my soul was accidentally bound to yours. I only recently awakened by drawing on the latent energies of this world's inhabitants."
Jack raised an eyebrow, his skepticism growing. "Bound to me? Just my luck. And let me guess, you want me to be your hero?" He gestured at himself. "Look, I'm not exactly what you'd call hero material. I write books. Mediocre ones, at best. And I definitely don't have superpowers."
Cyan's eyes flashed with irritation. She held out her hand, and a small chunk of metal appeared, floating above her palm. It hovered there before slowly drifting into Jack's open hand. He examined it—cold, real, heavy.
"I can't break the rules of this world," Cyan said. "But I can create things here—physical objects, elements. You could call it a limited form of creation magic. But the real problem is that I can't grant you powers that break this world's established laws."
Jack frowned at the piece of metal. "So, no instant superpowers. What am I supposed to do, throw rocks at them?"
Cyan's gaze softened slightly. "I can bring you into my world. Inside it, I have the power to enhance your consciousness, to grant you abilities far beyond your imagination." She spoke like she was promising him a miracle, her voice taking on a reverent tone.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "You're telling me you want me to enter some sort of dream world, where you'll make me stronger so I can come back and fight these invaders?" He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "This feels a lot like some sketchy MMORPG. But what the hell—I've written weirder things. How do we start?"
Cyan blinked, seemingly taken aback by Jack's readiness. "You… you're just accepting it?"
Jack shrugged. "Lady, I've written this exact plot at least ten times. Might as well live it, right? Now, do I need to lie down or something?"
Cyan's eyes widened in surprise before she sighed, a small, reluctant smile crossing her lips. "Just sit back and close your eyes. This will only take a moment."
Jack plopped back into his chair, closing his eyes. "Alright, let's see if this works," he muttered.
A rush of cold air enveloped him, and suddenly, the world felt like it was tilting. Jack's senses blurred, and for a split second, he felt like he was falling—then, in an instant, he found himself standing in an endless, rolling field of green.
Jack looked around, the wind ruffling his hair. The sky above was a bright azure, stretching endlessly without a cloud in sight. The grass beneath his feet was soft, almost surreal—like the whole landscape had been rendered from an old-school RPG. He smirked.
"Welcome," Cyan said, her voice now clearer and somehow more powerful. Jack turned to see her, no longer semi-transparent but standing before him in full, radiant form. "This is my world. Or rather, what remains of it. Here, I will train you, and together, we will create something capable of saving your world."
Jack took a deep breath, looking across the vast emptiness. He felt something stir inside him—a sense of opportunity, of change. He'd spent eight years on Terra feeling like he was stuck, like the world was always just a few steps ahead of him. Now, for the first time, he felt like maybe… just maybe, he had a chance to catch up.
He turned back to Cyan, a determined grin on his face. "Alright, Cyan. Let's get to work. We've got a world to build."