Lucas's breath hitched as he stumbled out of the bed—or what he thought was a bed. The sleek, metallic floor beneath his feet hummed faintly, vibrating with the steady pulse of machinery. His hands brushed against the polished walls of what appeared to be a ship's quarters.
"What…what the hell?" he muttered, his voice echoing slightly. He staggered toward the window again, half-expecting the scene to shift into something more familiar. Maybe his dorm room. Maybe a hospital bed. Hell, even his parents' house would've been less jarring.
But there it was—the void of space. Endless stars glimmered in the distance, scattered like diamonds on black velvet. A massive nebula stretched across the horizon, its swirling blues and purples casting an ethereal glow.
Lucas swallowed hard. He stepped back and glanced around the room. The walls were lined with storage lockers, screens displaying readouts of engine performance, and weapons racks holding high-tech firearms. The decor was minimal, utilitarian—familiar in a way that sent a chill down his spine.
"This…this is my ship," he realized aloud. His eyes darted to the sleek insignia etched onto the wall: the Valkyrie's emblem.
It couldn't be.
Lucas scrambled to the nearest console, his fingers trembling as he tapped on the interface. The screen lit up with a welcome screen he'd seen a thousand times before.
[Welcome, Captain. The Valkyrie's systems are fully operational. Awaiting orders].
His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at his reflection in the glossy monitor.
The face staring back at him wasn't his own. Not exactly.
It was sharper, more defined. His dark hair fell perfectly into place, and his piercing eyes seemed to radiate an unnatural intensity. Even his posture felt different—taller, broader, stronger. He ran a hand over his jawline, tracing the chiseled features that only existed on his character model.
"No way…" he whispered.
A part of him wanted to laugh. This had to be a dream—a vivid, surreal dream. Maybe he'd spent too many hours playing Interstellar Battlefront and his brain was taking him for a joyride. But as he pinched his arm—hard—the sharp sting confirmed the truth.
This wasn't a dream.
Lucas stumbled away from the console, his breathing ragged. The possibilities raced through his mind. Was this some kind of elaborate prank? Had he been kidnapped and plugged into a VR simulation? Or…
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No way. This isn't possible. You can't just—"
A sudden alarm blared, snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. The room's lights shifted to a deep red as the console flashed a warning.
[Proximity alert. Hostile vessel detected. Incoming transmission].
Lucas froze. Hostile vessel? Transmission? He barely had time to react as a holographic screen flickered to life in front of him. A grizzled alien with grayish skin and glowing red eyes appeared, its voice a guttural snarl.
"Unidentified vessel, you've trespassed into syndicate territory. Surrender your cargo or prepare to be boarded."
Lucas blinked, his mind struggling to keep up. Syndicate territory? What the hell was this? He wasn't prepared for any of this!
Before he could think of a response, the Valkyrie's AI chimed in.
[Enemy ship is arming weapons. Recommend evasive maneuvers, Captain].
Captain.
Right. He was the captain now. He might not understand how or why he was here, but one thing was certain: he wasn't about to let himself get blown to pieces.
Lucas scrambled to the pilot's seat, his hands hovering over the controls. The layout was identical to what he knew from the game, but the stakes felt infinitely higher.
"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice trembling. "This is just like the game. I've done this a hundred times before…except now I can actually die."
The ship rattled as a blast rocked its hull. The enemy wasn't waiting.
Lucas gritted his teeth and gripped the controls.
"Alright, you bastards," he growled, his fear giving way to determination. "Let's see what this ship can do."
The Valkyrie roared to life, engines blazing as Lucas launched into an evasive roll. Plasma fire streaked past the cockpit as he narrowly avoided the enemy's shots. His hands moved instinctively, navigating the ship through a series of maneuvers he'd perfected in the game.
The targeting system locked onto the enemy vessel, and Lucas's lips curled into a grin.
"Time to see if all those late-night raids paid off."
He pulled the trigger, and the Valkyrie's cannons unleashed a barrage of energy blasts. The enemy ship shuddered under the assault, its shields flickering before collapsing entirely.
A direct hit sent the hostile vessel spiraling out of control. Lucas let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as the AI's voice cut through the tension.
[Hostile neutralized. No additional threats detected].
Lucas slumped back in the pilot's seat, his chest heaving. The adrenaline coursing through his veins left him feeling both exhilarated and terrified.
"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" he whispered.
As the stars stretched out before him, Lucas couldn't help but wonder: was this a second chance, a punishment, or something else entirely?
Either way, one thing was clear—he wasn't logging out of this world anytime soon.