Rain hammered the windows of my small, second-story apartment, its unyielding rhythm matching the monotony of my life. The city outside throbbed with distant engines and sirens—noise that felt both far away and suffocating. In the pale lamplight, I hunched over my aging desk, chasing anything to banish the boredom after another endless shift at the convenience store. A ping from my chat window jolted me upright, the group notification flashing.
"Have you heard about the new game?"
I straightened, feeling a flicker of interest for the first time today. My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
"No?" I typed. "What is it?"
The answer lingered, giving me a moment to glance at the faded Polaroids scattered around my monitor: parents at the lakeside, childhood friends grinning, a blurry shot from last year's haunted house visit. Like small windows to a life that felt out of reach.
Finally, the reply popped up—eager and excited:
"Seriously? It's called Settlement. Made by Lotus—the same studio as last year's game of the year!"
I felt a spark. Last year's game had been something special, the sort that ate hours, made friends out of strangers on late-night servers.
"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee it's going to be amazing," I replied, cynicism winning out.
"No, no, no. Look at the trailer!"
A link appeared. I clicked on it despite myself. The cinematic flickered to life: water that looked so real I could imagine scooping up a handful to drink, fire that cast flickering orange light across the screen, forests bursting with life, mages casting dazzling spells, and at the end—a massive dragon, scales gleaming, eyes aglow with intelligence and fury. Even without my VR headset, the world pulled me in. The chat erupted.
"Elves!" someone wrote.
"That dragon is stunning," another said.
The excitement spilled over every corner of my city that week—from kids flirting with gaming posters outside supermarkets to tired adults on my bus, murmuring about "next-gen graphics" and "Settlement's fantasy world." Hype was contagious.
I caved.
"Guess there's no harm jumping on the hype train," I mumbled, standing from my desk.
The computer whirred to life as I sank into my battered chair. My heart, dulled by routine, sped up with anticipation. For a moment, nostalgia took me—a happier time, when my world was bigger than this apartment, when games meant laughter ringing through my parents' home. Four years had dulled everything since the accident that took them. I'd withdrawn, spent days just existing—work, eat, sleep, game.
"I miss them," I said into the silence, my voice frayed and barely audible.
But tonight was different. Tonight, I would chase something new.
I typed "Settlement" into the browser. The official homepage loaded fast: glossy banners, swirling fantasy icons, and the trailer front and center. Hunting for details, I clicked the "Forums" tab. It exploded with activity—hundreds of new threads, opinion and speculation in every post. One sticky stood out, all-caps bright red font:
"Things To Know Before You Play!! — Elves_or_Nothin"
I clicked.
The post spilled out in fevered bullet points:
You start with nothing. NOTHING!!
The aim: create a city—how? No one knows!
The world is ten times Earth's size; packed with fantasy—like elves. (HOT BLONDE BUSTY ELVES!)
Players spawn at random.
No inventory system.
NPC humans in the world—befriend them, fight them, maybe even enslave them?
Watch the trailer—IT'S AMAZING!
Updates promised soon. The energy was infectious.
I left the forums, returning to the homepage for a second pass at the trailer. Slipping on my slightly battered VR headset, I got comfortable. The simulation blinked to life.
I saw crystal skies and emerald fields. The sun washed over me in virtual warmth, the wind rustling through the grass so convincingly I could almost feel its touch. The scene shifted: dense forests where riders—long platinum hair, pointed ears—galloped past on ivory steeds with silver manes and a golden horn. Their language was musical, unfamiliar. I reached out, as if I could touch the hem of a cloak, but the world spun.
I stood on a cliff, salt air and howling storm wind, towering waterspouts dancing over furious waves. Debris whirled, boulders hurled by the tempest. Thunder rumbled as rocks crashed—then, darkness. A cave. Breath, slow at first, then quick and deep—a monstrous presence. Yellow eyes glimmered from the gloom, crimson scales flickered in the dim light, claws digging into stone. A dragon, immense and wild, its mouth licking with flame, burst outside, spread colossal wings, and roared. The heat, the wind, the sound—reality itself bent.
The trailer ended. I was breathless, heart pounding as if I'd run miles. Removal of the headset left my room feeling flat, bland. My excitement lingered.
"Incredible realism. Elves, dragons, all the classic races probably. And every terrain—plains, deserts, mountains, snowfields. What will players do? What could I do?"
Midnight approached. The servers would open soon. I powered down, fortifying myself with a quick shower and a bowl of cheap instant noodles. Finally, I lay back in bed, VR helmet ready. The ceiling above me faded as I closed my eyes, pulse racing with anticipation.
00:00. On the dot.
My vision dissolved, replaced by radiant gold and clouds that swirled like spun sugar. I floated amid light and warmth. A figure materialized—a girl with angelic wings, blue eyes, and a gentle smile. Her silver hair shimmered as she brushed it aside with an easy grace.
Her voice chimed, clear as crystal:
"Starting from here is where you will create Civilization."