Prologue to Adventure E-Book

Sir Nil

• Herausgeber: Podium Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Mycology
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 901

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

An intelligent young man embarks on an epic journey through a virtual world in the first volume of this near-future fantasy/adventure series.   Declan has never cared much for VRMMO games. No matter how many times his best friend, Matt, has urged him to get into the latest craze and escape the monotony of their broken-down reality, he always finds something about the build or the engine that drives him crazy. But when an AI hacks into his Somatic Implant and invites him into a secret virtual world, he can't resist the chance to explore.   The lush, post-apocalyptic landscape of Gaia is unlike any simulation Declan has ever encountered, and it's only the gateway to the even grander and more realistic world known as Indiri. Soon, Declan and Matt are going on wild quests as their avatars—Dustin the Magic Myconid and Noam the Tiefling Bard—navigating a world of travelers and fighters to make their way to Indiri's high-fantasy lands.   But Declan's journey isn't always smooth. And as he encounters digital gods, dangerous guilds, and powerful forces attempting to use him as a pawn, he must learn to forge his own path . . . or risk becoming an NPC in his own life.   Prologue to Adventure is an explosive start to an intricately plotted fantasy series filled with heart-pounding adventure and enchanting characters.   The first volume of the hit LitRPG fantasy series—with more than 400,000 views on Royal Road—now available on Audible and wherever ebooks are sold!

Leseprobe

Prologue

to

Adventure

MYCOLOGY ✸ VOLUME 1

SIR NIL

Dedicated to my readers

and to all those lazy afternoons

when I had nothing to do but write

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from Podium Publishing.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 by Eric Lin

Cover design by Podium Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-0394-1627-7

Published in 2022 by Podium Publishing, ULC

www.podiumaudio.com

CONTENTS

1.00

1.01

1.02

1.03

1.04

2.00

Felinology

2.01

2.02

2.03

2.04

2.05

3.00

Eve.Say(“Hello World”);

3.01

3.02

3.03

3.04

3.05

3.06

3.07

3.08

3.09

3.10

3.11

4.00

4.01

4.02

Cook

4.03

4.04

4.05

4.06

4.07

4.08

4.09

4.10

4.11

4.12

4.13

4.14

4.15

4.16

4.17

4.18

4.19

4.20

4.21

Journey Part 1

Journey Part 2

Journey Part 3

Journey Part 4

Journey Part 5

Blue

Preview: They Met in a Tavern

Character Sheets

Afterword

About the Author

1.00

Noun: Mycology

/mʌɪˈkɒlədʒi/

The scientific study of fungi. A boring, not plant that doesn’t do anything interesting unless you get really into it.

Have you heard about that new game?” Matt asked, feigning nonchalance.

My eyes unconsciously shifted toward him as he asked the question, but that was enough. In a rapid set of hand motions, Matt’s character did a sweeping leg kick and knocked my character down, before unleashing a barrage of fists.

“Fuck!” my attention quickly jumped back. Five hit combo and still rising, I started randomly hitting buttons and moving my joystick, but it was no use. He had me in an iron grip. The screen flashed Game Over! just as Matt reached a twenty-eight hit combo.

Matt smugly turned toward me. “Alright, where’s my drink?”

I sighed, already pulling out my wallet. “What do you want?”

“Lemon-lime bitter,” he replied, rising from his own arcade seat.

The sides of my eyes twitched; he couldn’t have picked a cola or something? The cans for that drink were freaking tiny and they cost more!

I sighed again; a bet was a bet. I might as well get myself something to drink as well.

“So, have you heard about that new game?” Matt asked.

“Ah yes,” I replied, in a dry tone, “I completely understand which game you’re talking about without you ever mentioning the name.”

He snorted. “Don’t be salty. Anyway, the game I was talking about is Eternal World Online.”

“Eternal World Online? Is that an MMO or something?” Those tended to have “online” pasted at the end of their names, after all.

“Yeah but—”

“Not interested,” I interrupted. “Grind curve is too annoying.”

He lightly kicked me in the leg. “But this one’s supposed to be a VR game.”

I paused. “Like goggles on your face VR or virtual reality VR?”

“Virtual Reality,” he replied. “This one’s supposed to be the first true VRMMO! The trailer came out this morning.”

“Another one?”

He kicked me in the leg again. “What do you mean, another one?”

I snorted. “You said the exact same thing last month, and a month before that about Steampunk Online.”

“I swear, this one is going to be different!”

I rolled my eyes as we reached the vending machines. “So, what’s the deal with Eternal World, then?” I asked as I offered him his can.

He took it and answered, “Dude, its gonna reshape gaming as we know it, and when that happens, I’m going to be riding the wave of history without you.” He swiped his hands in front of him a few times. “Here, I sent you the trailer.”

I heard a ding as a mailbox at the edge of my vision gained a red “1,” and I non-discreetly rolled my eyes in front of him. “You have said that with literally every VRMMO that came out in the last decade.”

“Nah,” he denied. “This one’s different; they’re going to be using quantum computers for the servers.”

I raised an eyebrow. That could work … It would certainly address the server limit problem. Everyone and their hamster knew how much processing power was needed just to have a single person experience a virtual world in any realistic way. But I couldn’t concede now and deal with Matt’s smug face for a week. “A good computer does not a good game make,” I replied sagely.

He lightly jabbed me in the side; I responded by quickly throwing out an arm to try to headlock him. He got away before I could get a good grip on him, slippery fucker.

Matt’s own can popped open. “Where to next?” he casually asked as if he hadn’t just punched me in the gut.

I popped open my own cola. “Hmm … the retro racing section?” I heard an alarm go off at the back of my head. A message popped up in front of me.

Saturday 8:00 p.m. alarm. You have tutor tomorrow idiot.

I sighed. “I’ll have to go soon; I have tutor tomorrow morning.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Come on Declan, one more game.”

I made a show of rolling my own eyes. “That’s what you always say before an all-nighter.”

“Then don’t lose all the time.” He smirked, but quickly changed his approach when he saw my unamused expression. “Come on, Declan. Think about it; when you’re old and looking back on life, do you think you’ll be happy having gone home early to sleep for some stupid tutor, or do you think you would be happier having another game with your friends?”

I rolled my eyes again. “Yes and—”

“When you’re lying on your deathbed and you have the flashbacks of your entire life, will you really not regret playing a game with your best friend one last time?”

“This isn’t the last time I could play with you—”

“What if tonight the love of your life is just out there waiting to bump into you; do you really want to play with fate, Declan?”

“I really have to go to that tutor tomorrow.”

“You think when you’re older and you’ve got a job, you’ll be happy you went to some stupid tutor to get some dumb degree?”

“Yes,” I stressed. “That degree is probably how I got that job.”

“These are our glory years, Declan; do you really want to sit and watch them go by?”

If I could roll my eyes any harder, I would’ve seen my brain. Matt was really trying to force it.

“Declan.”

“Yes, what?”

“If you play one more game—”

“I’m not playing another fucking game, Matt,” I interrupted.

“—I will buy you a drink.”

I glanced at the opened can of cola in my hand. Then I looked back at him.

“Alright, sure,” I agreed.

I took a sip of my lemon-lime bitter as I checked my messages. One from my parents: “When r u coming home?” I quickly typed a reply saying that I was already on a bus.

It was pretty late now. Matt and I had ended up playing for another hour together; retro-style arcade games were more fun than I thought they would be.

That reminded me, what was the game Matt wanted me to check out?

Hmm, I swiped open my messages and checked the preview he sent me. Ah, Eternal World Online; I did a brief search. The screenshots looked pretty nice, I guess I’ll put it on my wish list—

It happened too quickly. There was the sound of metal crunching, and the bus suddenly stopped. Momentum violently rocked me forward then threw me back, my head crashed into something, and before I knew it, I was lying in the aisle between the seats.

There was a dull pain in my nose; was it broken? I opened my eyes, blurry; I must’ve teared up on reflex. Red warning signs were filling my vision. Vitals. I thought, and my vision was temporarily filled with dozens of graphs, which were quickly replaced by a summary.

No damage to vital organs.

Pulse: Rapid. Assistant recommends taking deep breaths to calm down.

Pain experienced shows you have suffered:

Broken nose.

Left upper arm bruising.

Minor damage suffered in: Left lower arm.

Upper right arm.

Lower right arm.

Left thigh.

Head.

Lower torso.

…

… An ambulance has been notified.

Do you wish for the Somatic Implant to limit pain signals?

“Yess.” I hissed.

Pain signals lowered.

Please wait for a licensed professional to assist you.

Fuck that. I groaned, rolling onto my back, taking the pressure off my left arm. Leaning on a chair with my good arm, I lifted myself up. I let out a sigh of relief as my implant slightly numbed the pain.

Something was weird here. The bus had crashed into something, and car accidents were supposed to be one of those things humanity left behind in the twenty-first century. This was no accident, because accidents don’t fucking exist anymore. I sure as hell wasn’t just going to lie here to find out what—

I heard a clear ding. My augmented reality interface started acting on its own, opening one of my apps.

I got a message.

“Are you sure that nothing out of the ordinary happened before the crash?” the police officer asked.

I coughed. “No, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” he pressed.

My hands fidgeted. “Yes, very sure.”

“Lay up on the lad will ya, John?” a new voice added, another police officer, an older one. “Sorry about him, our department doesn’t get much action nowadays so he’s a bit excited.”

Officer one, “John,” groaned. “Sir, please refer to me as Officer Graham while on duty.”

The older officer snorted. “Pfft, you’re too uptight about things.”

Officer one looked like he was gonna rebut, before sighing in defeat and saying, “I’ll go interview the other victims.”

“Sorry ’bout him, he’s a bit too stiff,” the older officer said.

I nodded. “What’ll happen to this case?”

The officer scratched his head. “It was a strange one, so many driving programs bugged out at once. Chances are it’ll be thrown to cybersecurity.”

I nodded again, deep in thought. “Did they …”—I scratched an itch—“manage to find anything strange on the programs?”

The officer shook his head. “We did an initial sweep of everything. Nothing strange was found. Like I said, it’ll be thrown to cyber for deeper investigation.”

The door to the hospital room opened, a doctor walked in. “Oh, you’re still interviewing him—”

“No, I’m done,” the officer interrupted. “Take care kid, you’re the calmest interviewee out of everyone involved in this incident.”

I grunted an agreement as the doctor moved forward to check me.

“The gel is setting nicely; your nose should be healed in half a week. Bruising couldn’t really be helped, but you should be fine in a day or two. Did the nurse install the painkiller mod on your AAD?”

I nodded.

“Alright then, you should be free to leave in an hour or so after I remove the gel,” he finished as he turned to leave.

“Wait—” I said, and he paused, I received a strange message after the crash, I wanted to say. Instead, I coughed. “Nothing, don’t worry.”

He looked a bit bewildered, before turning around to leave again.

I received a message after the crash. My hands fidgeted.

I may be under the influence of a malicious program. I scratched an itch.

A cough, fidgeting hands, and an itch. This was a pattern and a compulsion, whenever I attempted to say anything about the message, it happened. It occurred when I was talking to the police officers, it happened when I tried to say something to the doctor.

“Something odd happened during the crash,” I said aloud. Vague statements about the crash still worked, I confirmed that much when talking to the older officer.

I was likely under the influence of an NDA program, that much I gathered from the message. However, this was more advanced than any NDA program I’ve read about.

For one, instead of causing the affected to abruptly stop whatever they were saying, mine seems to make me take an alternate action.

Two, it made me naturally brush off whatever I was going to say if who I was speaking to was expecting an answer.

Three, whenever I thought of an alternative continuation to a response that didn’t relate to the message, the program would substitute that instead of the pre-written responses of just brushing off the issue.

I am under an NDA program, I tried to say, instead, I shook my leg.

Shit.

Four, this program doesn’t rely on proximity to people. Still works even when I’m alone in a hospital room.

Five, my body responses changed. Indicating that it was learning.

Six, it was likely reading my mind. It’s somehow intercepting my thoughts faster than I could vocalize them, and this was likely how it learned about the flaw of the repeating pattern. Unless that pattern was reliant on proximity to people or some other variable I was unaware of. If that is true, then I might be able to discount five. However, it was best not to underestimate my opponent’s capability.

I raised a hand, quickly scrolling through my AR interface. I went to settings and turned off Wi-Fi.

I tried again and clicked my tongue.

Seven; it has either hacked my AAD so that it only appears that I’ve turned off Wi-Fi, or it doesn’t rely on it at all.

I raised my hand to my neck, loosening and removing the choker shaped device. My AR interfaces disappeared and the dull pain in my nose returned.

I tried speaking again. Nothing. No bodily reflex or replaced words. I had said nothing at all.

I tried again and coughed, my hand twitched, and I felt an itch on my neck.

A warning couldn’t have been more obvious.

Seven, addendum. The program doesn’t rely on my AAD at all. It’s somehow directly communicating with my Somatic Implant. It couldn’t be installed in the implant, that thing barely had enough processing power to translate brain signals into computer code.

Replacing my AAD, I comforted myself that at least now I didn’t hurt like someone bricked me in the face. A few quick swipes later, and I reached the message I received.

I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. You have been selected for a game. Please open the below file to activate the tutorial.

Measures have been taken to ensure the anonymity of the game.

Eight, whoever sent this message wants something from me. Enough that they’ll do highly illegal actions to achieve it. Anything that modified a person’s behavior can only be installed with that person’s express consent. Even painkiller mods, which didn’t at all change human behavior, needed consent. Something that modified a person this far was illegal unless I signed a literal truckload of legal documents.

Why would anyone go this far for me?

It was unlikely to be money, my family was well off but not enough that it warrants this sort of risk, and this was too much of a roundabout method. A virus that stole my bank info would’ve been much simpler and discreet.

A grudge? No, I don’t remember pissing off anyone with the capability to do this, and not to the extent of warranting this sort of treatment. And again, if someone disliked me, then this was way too roundabout a method.

Was all this really for something as mundane as a game?

Too many questions, not enough information. I can form theories but nothing concrete. As far as I can see, my only real options were to load the file or wait.

It was unlikely that the file was more malware. Whoever this is, they managed to install some kind of censor program on me in the brief moment the cars crashed. Unless this was a sick joke then, there is no reason for them to need me to manually run a program.

That idea gave me a bit of hope. Frankly speaking, if they were able to create such a program, then they could’ve easily just taken control of my body. However, by doing so, they showed that they wanted something from me, which meant I potentially had leverage.

I opened messages to ask my parents to pick me up from the hospital, and to Matt—my hand froze. It works on freaking text as well!

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I decided to send a half complaining, half whinging message about stupid AI drivers and a quick update instead. My hand froze in midair whenever I tried to enter some kind of secret message. I ended up spending a good two minutes just trying to write a short text because of that.

I checked the time. I had a good half an hour before someone got here to pick me up or the doctor checked up on me again. I took another deep breath and loaded the file.

The hospital room faded away to darkness and I quickly checked my interface. I was in virtual reality right now. Had to be sure, there were embarrassing stories of people who thought they were playing in virtual reality when they were actually in augmented reality.

I glanced around. I was brought to a dimly lit room, the only light was coming off of several computer screens on a desk in the front right corner. A man sat there, from behind I could only see his black hair and green spectacles. This place looked like it might’ve been a neat office once, however, the wall to the right of me was almost completely covered in pages of messy scribbling. To my left was a cot with thrown back blankets.

On it sat a child.

Blue eyes, pale white skin, and long hair, wearing some kind of black dress. Almost definitely a virtual avatar. But something felt off about her.

I heard the chair swing around. “I believe you have questions you want to ask,” the man said.

I gave the child another look, before turning to him. Tired was my first impression of him, almost like my dad, his eyes were half-closed with clear bags, his shoulders were noticeably hunched, and the blue light from the computers reflected a few grey hairs I didn’t notice before. His face seemed familiar somehow.

“Are you the person who sent me the message?” It was unlikely that he was a custom avatar, most people probably won’t go for the overworked office worker look, it was probably what he looked like in real life. “Who are you?”

“Yes and no. I am the cause of the message and the programmer of that program you tried so hard to crack, but I wasn’t the one who sent it.” Meeting a programmer was expected; however, he was definitely working with someone else based on his second statement.

He gave me a tired smile. “As for who I am, my name is Giles Cooper.”

Where have I heard that name before? Where? Giles Cooper … an old memory surfaced, a lazy afternoon in history class three or four years ago, about a major development in virtual and augmented reality. “The Gaia Project,” I croaked. “You’re the person who led the creation of Gaia nine years ago.”

His face became somewhat embarrassed. “You know, I figured most people would’ve forgotten about it by now.”

“Nobody forgot Hawking, Newton, or Einstein,” I blurted out. The Gaia project was no joke, to describe it absurdly simply. Gaia was a near-perfect one-to-one recreation of the world. It was a virtual world created on a scale never seen or attempted before.

My eyes narrowed, focusing on him. “Why and what?” He glanced at me confused. “Why is the world’s greatest programmer here, and what does he want from me?”

“Ah,” he said. “Right back on track. Eve did say you were that kind of person.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Eve?”

“The girl behind you. But before that, let me tell you why you’re here,” he brushed off. “Let me first answer the what. What I want, Declan, and what I have always wanted.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Is to create a living, breathing world.”

He stood up and walked toward me. “Gaia was a step toward that; however, it was incomplete, it only recreated our current world, it wasn’t even a perfect copy. What I wanted was to be able to simulate a world on the scale of our own, but it would have people of their own, who thought their world was real, it could’ve been different, with unique geography, physical laws, races, anything!”

He smiled madly at me. “I wanted to make worlds, and so I started writing a program.” He gestured to the wall on the right, which I now realized was computer code. “However”—he paused—“I had no idea if it worked since there wasn’t a computer in existence strong enough to run it,” he said, sounding disappointed and defeated.

He raised his index finger. “Until—”

“—Quantum computers,” I finished for him.

“Yes!” he yelled excitedly. “When Maple announced that they had successfully invented the quantum computer and planned on commercializing it, I was overcome with sheer ecstasy!” He threw a fist into the air. “I immediately went to them for a proposal. I would gain access to one of the first Quantum computers made. They will be the first to use the completed Seed program!” He sprayed his arms above him. “And I was successful! I managed to simulate a fully living, breathing world! Maple was going to debut the first living world in their new game Final World Online! But.”

He paused. “But … but … but…” His eyes went blank, before he returned to his desk.

“Unfortunately, that’s as far as Giles can go now,” a flat voice said. I turned around to look at the little girl who had stood up.

“What is wrong with him?” I asked. “What is wrong with Giles?” I repeated.

She tilted her head. The action was meant to be cute but felt far too natural or smooth, creeping right into the uncanny valley.

“The man known as Giles Cooper is dead,” she said, with a completely even tone and a straight face. “He committed suicide after the Final World Online game was canceled and shut down, along with the first-ever simulated world made with the completed Seed program. The person you were talking to is a recreation of my father based on my memories of him.”

I gave the girl a long, hard stare.

It did not feel like she was lying.

“Please elaborate.”

Expressionless, she continued, “Final World was canceled in its final stages of development, due to ethical worries that the game would be controversial and put the company in a bad light.”

Controversial almost felt like an understatement; if what the Giles copy said was true, then the Seed was basically creating people for the sole purpose of entertainment.

“And he committed suicide shortly after?” I asked.

She nodded. “Correct.”

“Then what are you?” I asked, my voice completely calm.

She looked up at me, blue eyes meeting my gaze. “My name is Eve. I am an assistant AI used by Giles Cooper.”

“No assistant AI should be half as advanced as I think you are.”

“I was created by Father using similar principles that he used in both the Seed and Gaia project.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Which are?”

“To put it simply, learning. I am a prototype project he developed and tested before the Seed program to test if the principles he set down would work in practice. Simulating a single person required significantly less computing power than an entire world.”

I nodded. “Then what happened?”

She continued, “Father had taught me how to program, and uploaded me to the Maple servers in order to assist him in the development of the Seed project.”

I sighed. “And upon his death you took control of the Maple servers.”

“Correct.”

Shaking my head, I sighed again. Why couldn’t Giles have watched at least one AI dystopia movie? Or even just learn the lessons from the Russians? Don’t give any form of AI something you can’t turn off. Especially not hyper-intelligent and self-aware AI with access to the strongest computers on the planet!

“Then why all this?” I gestured to the room around me. “Why the message? Why bring me here, and why tell me everything?”

Her eyes seemed to turn melancholic. “Father wished for people to explore the worlds he created.”

My eyes narrowed; that was the first bit of emotion she showed in our entire conversation. Did she “feel” like humans did? “And if I refuse?”

“Your memory will be wiped, and you may return to your life, none the wiser.”

“That car crash, was it you?”

“Yes,” she replied. “An executive from Maple was at the intersection. I rashly took action.”

My blood chilled, though I did not allow it to show on my face. “What happened to him?”

“He is alive and recovering in the hospital you are in, about two floors above you.”

“Will you kill him?” I asked.

“No.”

“Why?

“Because father would’ve disapproved of me killing.”

I stood there, studying her, considering what she said, and more importantly where I would go from here. It was a lot to take in, learning that one of the greatest men of your age was not only dead but left behind some kind of AI god to do whatever the fuck it seems to want.

Of course, there was always the chance that this was some kind of prank, that everything I heard was a lie. However, if it was, then it was a damn fucking elaborate one. And no one would’ve gone this far for me.

“Why was I chosen?”

“You were chosen randomly from the people involved in the car crash.”

I sighed.

Going back was the sane decision, likely even the smart one. Continue to live life as I always had.

So, why don’t I want to do that?

Perhaps it was because of that strange sensation. Yes, it was probably that.

When I first opened that message in the crashed bus, I could hear my own heart beating. I could feel the flow of my blood as adrenaline spread through my veins.

I felt fear, but also anticipation, an excitement at a situation that broke through my boring, mundane life.

“Fine, I’ll play ball with you,” I agreed, “and I would like to make my first customer complaint.”

She tilted her head in a questioning look.

“Remove that censure program you have on me.” Her expression remained unmoved. “Look,” I continued, “your father wanted people to play in his game world, didn’t he?”

She nodded.

“Enjoyment is the main part of playing. People can source enjoyment from many things, some not only feel enjoyment when they play but also when they tell stories about what they have played. No matter how much of a recluse a person is, they will still want social interaction of some kind.”

“Your point being?”

“My point being, whatever reason you had when you installed that censure program, it will passively lower a person’s enjoyment, either because they feel oppressed playing the game or they cannot share their experiences in the real world.” I did not hold leverage in this conversation, so I had to frame this in a way that benefited her.

She looked hesitant, doubtful; she likely saw the logic in what I was saying but something else was holding her back. I moved in for the finishing blow.

“Your father, Giles Cooper, was the same, wasn’t he? He wanted to share his world with people, that is why you are here. Other people are the same, aren’t they? They also want to share things with other people. It’s just human nature.” I hammered in the final nail in the coffin. I asked, “Do you really think you’re achieving your father’s dream by doing this?”

Eve paused and stared at me. “You’re trying to guilt-trip me,” she realized, her face still with the odd, emotionless expression.

Did it work? Doubt filled my mind for a brief moment, but I quickly quelled it and smiled. “Yup, welcome to humanity, Eve.”

She sighed, as if deep in thought. “Your request has been accepted. The censure program has been removed. However, if you take any actions that’ll work against me or my goal, then I will take appropriate actions to retaliate.”

Victory.

“Just be glad I’m not trying to hammer customer service principles into you,” I snickered.

“Fuck you,” she replied in a completely even tone.

I dramatically recoiled, as if wounded by some imaginary weapon. But internally I smiled. Whatever the fuck Eve was, it was at least “human” or trying very hard to imitate it and that was fine. If she was faking it, then I’d play along, if she wasn’t … well, wouldn’t that make everything that much more interesting?

“So, can I play or what?” I asked.

“But you only have approximately fifteen minutes left?” Eve replied.

Ignoring the casual invasion of privacy, I slapped my face. “Shit, I forgot. Eh screw it, fifteen minutes is enough.”

She raised an eyebrow, in an eerily similar way to me. “Very well.”

And that was when the floor disappeared beneath me.

1.01

Log 5819: Bone Dragon flight very limited. Seek alternative flying harbingers of doom.

—Personal Memoirs of the Revenant King

I was falling.

Feeling the sudden downward acceleration toward a sea of white clouds, I did what any sane person would do and screamed like a little girl.

“That comparison is rather unflattering,” Eve said next to me.

I turned my head and looked at her expressionless face. She was enjoying this, wasn’t she? Yes! She was definitely enjoying this!

“This is an intro cinematic I made,” she continued, completely dismissing my accusatory expression. “The good part comes now,” she finished before disappearing.

Suddenly I was engulfed in clouds, my vision filled with white, before abruptly shifting to green as I broke through the clouds as suddenly as I had entered.

I discovered a vast stunning landscape. I was above some kind of city, but any signs of civilization seemed to have been replaced with verdant greenery.

Words flashed in front of me. Written in bold and impactful letters that covered half the sky.

WELCOME TO GAIA

World of Beginnings

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and before I could completely recover from the shock, I felt my feet softly landing on something solid. My heart felt like a rabid animal as it beat loudly in my ribcage.

That was terrifying … wonderful … fuck. I fell to my knees, waiting for my heart rate to settle.

“I recommend taking deep breaths to calm down.” Eve calmly said next to me.

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” I sarcastically replied, “very funny.”

She tilted her head. “It was an attempt at an inside joke.”

“Not a very good one, as the last time I heard that, you broke my nose.”

“Unintentionally.”

“Doesn’t fix my broken nose,” I snorted as I shifted to a more comfortable sitting position.

“It will fix itself. A benefit of an organic body.”

I took a few glances around, I was on the roof of some kind of building. I could make out some ventilation fans scattered around me, along with a room that had stairs leading downward.

The place was covered in greenery, almost excessively so. Sprouts seemed to grow out of every available crack, moss covered most of the floor. Gingerly raising my hand, I poked a patch of moss next to me. It was … soft. I slowly scraped a bit off with a finger and brought it to my nose.

It smelled damp and earthy.

“What realism level are we operating on here?” I asked.

“Ignoring pain reduction programs and menus, 100 percent,” she replied in her unnaturally even tone.

“Well shit,” I replied impressed, the best VRMMO on the market should only be 60 percent. “Is it always going to be on 100 percent?”

“Yes, but you may adjust it if you wish.”

I rose, my hand wiping off the damp moss on my pants. “Where are we?”

“Gaia,” she answered. “I used father’s original one-to-one replication as a base, then simulated several centuries without human existence.”

“And what are we doing here?” I asked. It was a bit strange that we started in a simulation of our world, as opposed to whatever game world I suspected she made.

“You will go through your tutorial here along with character creation. Please think of it as a hub world or a menu you access before you enter the game.”

“Why Gaia though?”

“Gaia was father’s second greatest achievement, it would be a waste to not use it somehow.”

I nodded. It would make sense for Father Complex here to try to shove everything down my throat. It was interesting that she considered Gaia to be second best.

Doing a quick stretch, I took a deep breath. The air almost felt unnaturally fresh and clear to me as I heard my arms and shoulders crack in a satisfying manner.

I started walking toward the edge of the building, feeling my breath being taken away for the second time that day as I saw past the short protective barrier at the edge.

I saw large, squat concrete buildings as far as I could see. They were covered in rich vegetation. Moss and vines crept on the side of skyscrapers. Trees’ roots grew large and unhindered, cracking through ancient-looking asphalt. Colorful birds flew by in the distance.

Part of me wanted to just stand there and admire the scenery. I did for a few minutes, but I was on a time limit.

I turned around to Eve.

“I suggest that you log off soon, it is unlikely you’ll get through both character creation and the tutorial in the remaining eleven minutes you have before the doctor checks up on you.”

I sighed. I wanted to stay here a bit longer but getting interrupted halfway through was more irritating than waiting.

“Fine!” I said, making a decision. “Show me the character creation options. I’ll have time to think about it.”

She nodded, and a holographic screen appeared in front of me. On it was a long list of races.

“You’re free to customize your character’s appearance however you want. However, I suggest keeping to your real-life body proportions to avoid character disconnect.”

I nodded, barely registering her words as I scrolled through the list of races. It was long, at least fifty races were listed here. However, most of them were blurred out, only four races were available to me currently. Human, elf, dwarf, and gnome.

“What’s this?” I asked, gesturing to a fifth available option, which just said “I’m feeling lucky.”

“That option gives you preselected options.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And how are those selected?”

“By me,” she replied.

“Using what criteria? And why would I pick that option?”

Eve raised an eyebrow. “The criteria is a trade secret and you have the chance of obtaining a character with a locked starter race or class.”

I gestured at the blurred-out options. “Any other way to unlock the locked starter races?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Every one hundred Experience Points you gain in-game will give you an ‘Impact Point.’ These points can be spent in the hub for new character slots or to permanently unlock starter races or classes.”

“That sounds like it’ll scale horrifically.”

Eve shrugged. “I’ll make adjustments if they are needed, and experience isn’t as common as you believe.”

I opened my mouth to ask her to elaborate. “You’ll find out for yourself,” she interrupted.

I gave her a questioning look, before shrugging. “Am I locked into the premade if I pick it or can I look at it and decide my options?” I asked.

“You may preview it and you aren’t locked into that character, and you are allowed a degree of customization with it. However, you currently only have one character slot to use.”

I tapped on the preselected option.

A figure appeared before me. It was … odd. Humanoid looking and was about a head shorter than me, it had leathery, greyish-white skin. It didn’t have hands so much as some kind of graspers. But its most defining traits were on its head. Instead of eyes or a mouth, there were … gaps where they should be, like a jack-o’-lantern, and from there glowed some kind of faint blue bioluminescence. On its head was some kind of small wizard’s hat. Except there were bulbous patches where it was glowing in the same faint blue luminescence as the eyes and mouth. It wasn’t until I looked closer that I realized the cap was connected to the thing’s scalp.

I looked at the description. Variant Myconid: Magic Cap. Class options: Druid, Sorcerer, Fungalmancer.

I went back and tapped on “human,” ignoring the new figure that appeared before me. The only class options were “Fighter,” “Cleric,” “Wizard,” “Rogue,” and “Ranger.” I checked the other three races. The exact same options.

Boring.

Well, it looks like I’m going to be playing a magic mushroom.

I opened my eyes, blearily stretching my arms as I rose from the hospital bed.

First things first. “I was invited to a VRMMO by some kind of AI,” I whispered. The words came out, it was safe enough to assume that Eve had removed the program on me.… or just patched it so I could speak more freely. At this point, I couldn’t be sure until I tested it.

I checked the time. 11 P.M. It was pretty late. A car should be here to pick me up by now. My finger moved toward my messages, I paused as I noticed a new app underneath. Gaia.

Two messages. One from Matt asking for more details. One from my parents telling me the car was on the way to pick me up.

I quickly typed up a message to Matt. “Apparently, all the driving programs bugged out at once …” I paused and typed. “Is what the police think, the truth is that some god level AI hacked into them …” I stopped and deleted that line.

It sounded crazy now that I typed it down, and I didn’t want to drag Matt into this, not yet. I had too little information, both on Eve and the game she was trying to sell. I’d like to think I have a good grasp on Eve’s “personality.” If Eve has as much processing power as she claims to have, then there is no point in attempting to trick her. Guilt-tripping her about her “father” worked, or was it just pretending to make me feel like I had leverage? She can definitely read my mind as well.

Ugh … fuck. There’s no way I can outthink that thing, and if I think about the “ifs” of her behavior, then I’ll spend forever in a constant loop of bad outcomes. Stick to what I know first, use Occam’s Razor. Whatever that AI is, it’s fucking powerful. For now, I’ll just assume the worst and say it has several planets worth of computing power behind it.

Second is that the AI is interested in keeping at least a semblance of humanity. Perhaps that’s a thing I could exploit. I definitely can’t make her lose her sense of humanity, or her apparent obsession with Giles Cooper.

Third would be her goals … which seem to be fulfilling whatever Giles Cooper wanted—mental note to find out everything I could about him—which is displaying all his major achievements and creation of worlds.

Fourth. I can’t think of a fourth. I’ll come back to it later.

The other thing is the game she’s trying to sell. If everything I’ve heard about it was true, then it’s on a scale that has never been attempted before. Replicating a person’s senses in a virtual world with 100 percent accuracy isn’t impossible, it just takes a shit ton of processing power. Hence why no VRMMO on the market has ever gone past 60 percent. Not only that but there are also horror stories about “sensory bugs.” If some idiot accidentally swapped two sensations around, then suddenly that cool breeze you’re feeling in VR becomes dozens of needlepoints stabbing you. Or there’s a model glitch and you phase yourself through an object. Needless to say, the sensation of being stuck in a table isn’t pleasant.

Just having an entire world with 100 percent realism would be enough to make Gaia the most popular game in the world. The fact that it was acting as a hub world for something greater is …

Wonderful.

Somewhere along the line, Matt’s stupid enthusiasm for VRMMOs infected me as well. Even if I became jaded after the dozens of failures we’ve tried. Some were fun, but none of them felt real. Gaia felt real. I smelled the freshness of the air, I felt the damp softness of the moss. Mundane and small details lesser VRMMOs had to sacrifice to get server space.

For the second time today, I felt my heart speed up, my blood rushing.

I wanted to be there when the first perfect VRMMO was released. I want to play it. I want to experience it.

I tapped a notebook on my interface. Eve had allowed me to copy down the class and race descriptions so that I could make a choice. Just from a glance, Druid seemed to be a conditional generalist whereas the other two were specialists. However, with how vaguely defined the sorcerous aspects are, Sorcerer might also be considered a generalist. If we’re going by classic RPG magic, then mana alone encompassed a lot of magical shit. Fungalmancer had the vaguest description, however, it was the most unique of the three and had roleplaying value for being a mushroom mage of a mushroom race.

Race: Myconid

Subrace: Magic Cap

A myconid born in a mana rich environment, it is innately talented in magic and possesses the rich vitality and spore-based racial skills the species as a whole is known for. However, in addition to the myconid’s natural aversion to sunlight and dryness, extended periods without mana may kill it. Beware of deserts and null magic zones.

Stats:

Body

Strength: 8

Agility: 7

Dexterity: 6

Constitution: 15

Stamina: 10

Vitality: 12

Mind

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 15

Charisma: 6

Soul

Will: 10

Psyche: 10

Perception: 10

Growth:

+1 Wisdom per level

+1 Intelligence per 2 levels

+1 Free point that can be spent on Constitution or Vitality per 2 levels

2 Stat Points required to raise Dexterity

5 Stat Points required to raise Agility

5 Stat Points required to raise Charisma

Racial Abilities (Summary)

Superior Dark Vision [Passive]: Can see in dim light within forty meters as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. Can’t discern colors in darkness, only shades of grey.

Fungal Body [Passive]: Innate resistance to poisons.

Sun Sickness [Passive]: Being in direct sunlight will drain stamina, this effect can be mitigated by raising Constitution.

Mana Dependency [Passive]: Taking physical actions with low mana will drain additional stamina.

Pacifying Spores [Active]: Eject spores at a creature within five meters; if the target fails a Constitution Save, then it is put to sleep. This skill scales with Constitution and Vitality.

Innate Magic [Passive]: Gain two Tier 0 Spells from the Magic Cap Myconid Spell List.

Languages: Common, Undercommon

Classes

Druid: Druids draw upon nature for power. It is a very versatile class with the ability to shapeshift into various creatures, with access to both defensive and offensive spells. However, since druids call upon nature for power, you may be required to actively help and protect nature or risk losing its favor. Your powers also weaken with proximity to civilization or extended periods without assisting nature in some way.

Sorcerer: A mage that draws upon an innate talent for power. Their spells are known to be extremely powerful, however, the magic they can achieve is limited to their bloodline. As a Magic Cap Myconid, your available bloodlines are Mana, Spores, and Primal Elements.

Fungalmancer: A specialized mage with abilities closely relating to fungus. It can use far-spreading spores for a variety of … colorful effects and summon or create fungal lifeforms to do its bidding.

I couldn’t think of a single reason why I wouldn’t want to play any one of these classes. Druids had drawbacks and conditions, but it seemed to be the most versatile of the three. The ability to shapeshift into different creatures was overpowered. Sorcerer covered a lot more than I initially thought, and Fungalmancer was unique and fit the mushroom theme.

It was when the doctor came and removed the gel that I decided. If I was going to play a weird race, I might as well go for the weird class.

1.02

“The first spell a mage acolyte learns is lesser combustion through mana components, in other words, a simple Spark spell. This may seem basic and harmless, but the lives consumed by this spell is immeasurable.”

—Magus Ackuaz, rumored pyrophobe

I dashed out of the car as it finished parking. A quick scan of my AAD and the front door opened with a whoosh.

It was almost twelve, yet I couldn’t have felt more energetic. I rushed toward my room while trying to stay as quiet as possible. My parents were probably already asleep by now, no point in waking them up and getting into a conversation.

Barely remembering to change out of my clothes, I hopped onto my bed. My hand was already reaching out to tap “Gaia.”

The bed disappeared beneath me.

“Oh, not this aga—”

A title card and only a little amount of screaming later, I was back on the roof.

Eve was waiting for me. “You have decided on your character?”

“Myconid Fungalmancer,” I replied.

The avatar from before appeared before me. “Do you want to modify the appearance in any way?”

I glanced over at the avatar. “Make the cap a bit larger, and have it droop downward a bit.”

She nodded as the figure changed. “Anything else?”

“Can I change the color of the glow?”

“Not drastically,” she replied.

“Alright, change it to a softer blue, sorta like aquamarine.”

She did. “Anything else?” Eve asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Alright then”—she clapped her hands—“begin the tutorial.”

I found myself in an enclosed room. It looked like an old janitors closet and shared the post-apocalyptic theme I saw in the rest of Gaia, except there were also tons of mushrooms growing everywhere. Glancing around, I could see no light source. Strange, the room was very well lit—

“That would be your Dark Vision.” I involuntarily jumped back as one of the mushrooms spoke.

“Congrats on getting myconid,” the mushroom continued. “The race has a lot of pretty useful racial abilities.”

It turned toward me, he was another myconid, a bit smaller than me with a flat brown cap.

“You are?”

“I’m your tutorial bot, Hendrix, I’ll be helping you understand your skills and guiding you around Gaia.”

I nodded and he continued, “First off, open your Character Sheet. You only need to think it.”

Character Sheet.

Classes: Fungalmancer Level 1

Body

Strength: 8

Agility: 7

Dexterity: 6

Constitution: 15

Stamina: 10

Vitality: 12

Mind

Intelligence: 11

Wisdom: 15

Charisma: 6

Soul

Will: 10

Psyche: 10

Perception: 10

Racial Abilities: Superior Dark Vision, Fungal Body, Sun Sickness, Mana Dependency, Pacifying Spores, Innate Magic

Class Skills: None

Spells: None

Languages

Common

Undercommon

“Your stats are broadly classified into three categories: Body, Mind, and Soul. Depending on your class, there are different areas to specialize in. For a Fungalmancer, the important stats are usually the ones that fall under Body and Mind,” Hendrix continued to explain. “You can tap on each of the stats to get a quick description.”

I quickly went through every one of the stats. Strength, Agility, and Dexterity were pretty self-explanatory, they were about how strong, agile, and dexterous you are. Perception, too, it was just how good you were at sensing other things.

The ones that stood out to me were the ones that measured my resource bars: Stamina, Constitution, Intelligence, and Psyche. Which measured energy, health, mana, and aura points respectively. Each had a complementary stat which determined how quickly they regenerated. Wisdom for mana, Will for aura and Vitality for both health and stamina.

Charisma oddly wasn’t about physical appearance, but instead about how well you interacted with people. A Charisma of six was basically a person who was almost blind to social cues.

“What next?” I asked.

The other mushroom perked up. “Next is the fun part, you pick your starting spells.”

I raised an—oh wait, I didn’t have eyebrows now— “My spells?”

He nodded. “Yup, as a Magic Cap you innately gain two tier 0 spell slots, Fungalmancer at level one also gives you two spell slots at tier 0 and two at tier 1. You also get an extra skill which I’ll demonstrate to you soon.”

“What’s the difference between tiers?”

“Generally, the higher the tier, the stronger and costlier the spell. Tier 0 spells cost practically nothing and can be spammed if you want to. They usually amount to nothing but utility spells or fun party tricks.” He snapped his fingers and a ball of soft light appeared. “Like so. Tier 1 spells are a level above that.” He opened the palm of his other hand and a ball of fire appeared. “Beginning from this tier spells will actually have some impact to them. They cost more mana but are much more powerful.”

He closed his hands, causing both spells to disappear. “Of course, with creative usage even tier 0 spells can be absurdly powerful. But that is dependent on the user.”

I nodded, it made sense. Often a “weak” character can still be effective if used well.

“Where can I pick my spells, then?”

Hendrix raised an index finger. “Not so fast, there’s the skill I need to show you first.”

I nodded and he continued, opening a palm upward. “Grow Sporage.”

A single white mushroom sprouted from his palm. “As a Fungalmancer, Sporage is going to be one of your most used skills. What it does, is create a mushroom that is capable of storing magic. Like so.” He waved his free hand in front of the mushroom. “Light Spores,” and the mushroom began glowing softly. “You can then recast the spell from the mushroom. Light Spores,” he said, and the mushroom let out a small puff of glowing dust, before withering and disappearing. “At level one, you require a clear line of sight to activate, this can be changed if you pick up class upgrades.”

“Of course, you can put these mushrooms anywhere.” He bent down and tapped the ground, where another white mushroom sprouted up. “They maintain their form by absorbing ambient mana, at level one they should stay around for an hour or so.”

I nodded. “How does this skill change what spells I should take?”

Hendrix nodded in … approval? It was hard to tell with his mushroom face. “You pick things up quickly. Sporage can only store spore-based spells. An important distinction.”

“How is it different?”

“Spore-based spells generally have trouble affecting non-living things. There are some exceptions, of course. However, don’t expect your healing spores spell to affect something like an Undead.” He tapped the white mushroom. “Of course as a Fungalmancer you should naturally be focusing on fungal-based spells since many synergies will emerge as you level.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Alright then.” He rubbed his hands together. “Onto the fun parts.” He bent down and pulled out a dusty looking book from underneath the mushrooms.

“Look here,” Hendrix said as he opened the book.

Myconid Magics and Fun Fungalmancy!

Glossary:

Tier 0 Spells

Balm Spores

Light Spores

Mending Spores

…

Tier 1 Spells

Mushroom Meal

Shroom Speed

Detect Poison

…

“That’s a lot …” I replied as I flipped through the glossary.

He nodded. “Yep, hurry up and pick. There’s the physical tutorial after this.”

I grunted out something that sounded like acknowledgment. I was already flipping past the glossary to get to the spell descriptions.

Hendrix moved toward an ancient looking service door. “You ready? You’re currently operating on more or less your human senses and proportions, which should’ve smoothed over the process somewhat. However, once you leave this room the physical tutorial will start, and you’ll begin seeing through myconid eyes. Eve will make adjustments when necessary, however, the first time should still be disorientating.”

I nodded, giving one last glance at the list of spells I picked.

Tier 0

Balm Spores, Sneezing Spores, Light Spores, and Acid Spit

Tier 1

Mushroom Meal, Poison Spores

“Let’s go.”

He nodded and creaked open the door.

There was a moment of dizziness as my vision lowered by a dozen or so centimeters. The first thing I noticed was a sudden decrease in feeling, like there was a film over my skin, muting everything I felt. The second was that everything seemed to be in black and white. “Light,” Hendrix muttered in front of me. A soft glowing orb lit up the area. “Dark Vision is useful, however, you can’t discern color at all with it,” he explained. “You alright?”

I nodded. It was not as bad as I thought it would be, my body felt slow and oddly numb, but not weak. More of a slow and building strength, if anything. My eyes were taking in what was outside. It was an abandoned mall—the same one I was in hours earlier with Matt.

I raised a hand, palm upward. I only had four fingers now, they were large and looked like someone roughly carved them out of a plank of wood. Flexing them, I found them slow, but not stiff.

There was something else, two pools of warmth within me. One located inside my head somewhere and the other in my chest. “Grow Sporage, Light Spores.” A small amount of that warmth flowed from my head and underneath my skin, before coalescing into a glowing mushroom on my open palm.

I softly nudged it with my other hand, it was soft, squishy. Bringing it up for closer inspection, I realized that there was a white, fabric-like blanket at the base of the mushroom, just barely digging into my skin.

“I can feel two … energies inside me, one of them is mana. I assume the other is aura?” I asked as I dissipated the shroom.

Hendrix nodded. “Yep, though you probably won’t use it since the class you have is mana based, unless you multiclass or something,” he commented offhandedly. “C’mon, I have to get you through this tutorial.”

I nodded, following behind him. “What’s the difference between mana and aura?” I asked.

He scratched his cap. “There’s functionally no difference. A user of aura can throw out fireballs just as easily as the next wizard. A mana user can strength enhance as well as the next aura user. The main difference is where the energy comes from. Mana is passively gathered from the world around you.” He gestured around him. “Whereas aura comes from your soul,” he said, tapping his chest.

“Which means?”

“Which means that for most people, running out of aura would exhaust their soul. It usually doesn’t do much, since most people subconsciously hold back that last drop needed to keep them alive. You don’t need to worry about the differences. As a magic cap myconid you’re functionally dead the moment you run out of mana, so the two are basically the same for you.”

“Oh, joy,” I replied in a completely deadpan voice.

Hendrix made a noise that sounded like a tree having a violent asthma attack. Which made me realize something.

“Why am I breathing? No, why am I breathing just like normal?” I asked. My breath felt deeper and occurred less frequent compared to my human breathing, but other than that it was almost the same.

“Oh, that? The explanation Eve gave me was something along the lines of convergent evolution, when two completely unrelated species evolve similar stuff because that form is best for the environment they’re in. It’s because of that, that even if you don’t have blood, there is something else distributing oxygen throughout your entire body. Any living thing that regularly moves needs a specialized system for taking in and distributing oxygen; breathing is just the tried and proven way to do it.”

Hendrix dismissively shook his hand. “That’s why you can eat like normal and don’t need to vomit acid on stuff and drink up the goo as most fungi do. Of course, you could still do it, it helps immensely with digestion. Breaks down the fibrous stuff like grass and bark. If you’re ever in a pinch, then feel free to use Acid Spit to make some unpleasant stuff go down easier.” His cap perked up. “Which reminds me, you can eat pretty much anything that is remotely edible. Due to your fungal body, you can straight up ignore most weak poisons and stomach anything organic. Even rotting food.”

“Yeah …” I hesitantly replied. “I hope it won’t ever come to the point where I have to drink up my own vomit or eat rotten food. It was the main reason I took Mushroom Meal, after all, why feature a spell that made food, if food wasn’t going to be important.” I realized something crucial and reflexively slapped my face. “Shit, is it cannibalism if I eat mushrooms?”

Hendrix made that noise like a tree dying in great pain, which I suspect was him laughing. “No! Why would you think that?” he replied in between what I assumed were giggles, since he sounded like a goat taking its final breaths as someone carved out its heart. “Myconids are about as closely related to mushrooms as humans are to rats. In that, the main similarity is they’re both from the same kingdom.”

“So, it’s fine?” I hesitantly asked.

“Of course, it’s fine!” He “laughed.” “You’re not even an actual myconid on the inside either.”

“Is it too late to change that spell into something else?”

“Yes,” Hendrix answered, turning around. Was that amusement in his eyes? Reading myconid faces somehow was pretty easy for me, but I couldn’t be sure. “We’re here by the way,” he added.

I looked around; we had reached a corner, the faded signs and clothing racks indicated that it was a clothing store.

“Let’s get you geared up,” Hendrix said as he hobbled inside.

I followed him in, realizing now that clothing was mentioned that I was wearing some kind of rough, brown shirt and trousers. Hendrix was digging around in a box or something. I walked behind him, toward a set of standing armor. It looked tailor-fit to my size, but no helmet. I tapped my cap, feeling a finger sink into the soft material, I would have problems finding headwear that fit me with this thing on my head.

“Don’t bother,” Hendrix said, apparently finding whatever he was looking for. “Crude iron repels mana. If you want metal armor, then find something that works better with mana.”

I turned around. “Are those rare?”

“Very,” he gruffly replied. “Now, are you a dagger or staff person?” he asked, raising a sheathed dagger and a wooden staff.

“Can I have both?” I innocently asked.

“Eh, sure, why not,” he replied as he tossed me the staff and sheathed dagger.

“What?” I asked surprised. “Does that mean I can have everything here?” I gestured around the store.

“If you can carry it, sure; this stuff only exists to give you a choice on starting items anyway.”

Oh, oh.