My gut was heavy, as if I'd gulped down stones before plummeting from a high ledge.
One moment, I'm stuck in that dim metal box, catching whiffs of stale laundry and electric air. Then - everything flips, like space got yanked sideways. That's honestly the best way to explain what it feels like when you log in.
Colors zipped by so quick I couldn't even close my eyes. One moment green, then purple, next - neon blue. Felt like a rainbow got mixed up in a blender.
I wanted to shout - only there wasn't a mouth. Just code. A rush of digits zipping down a grimy wire, skipping two e-bike power packs, then slamming into the planet's largest machine.
After that, I landed on the surface - pretty roughly.
I didn't bounce back smooth like some movie hero. Instead, I slammed headfirst into the ground. My mouth filled with grit. Hold up - wasn't soil. It was metal, sharp and stale. Yeah, definitely rust.
I groaned, then flipped onto my back - my head kept swirling. Felt just like one of those rough mornings after drinking, except I hadn't so much as sipped that nasty homemade junk Gary cooks up in his tub.
"Okay," I wheezed. "I'm alive. I think."
I woke up. My gaze lifted slowly.
The sky overhead wasn't blue. Instead, it looked like a wound - dark purple, kind of furious, slashed through with pale yellowish clouds. No sun showed up; only a glowing blur hung in place, lighting things from all around at the same time.
I sat up, checked my hands - leather gloves without fingertips. Flexed them; everything worked smooth. Zero lag time. No waiting around. Felt just like normal life, only crisper. Air seemed cleaner. Ground felt tougher.
Welcome to Aetheria," I muttered under my breath.
Yet things felt off.
Most times, your first drop into the game lands you inside the "Temple of Beginnings." This place? A sleek white marble structure. Inside, a calm goddess character hands you a blade - then taps your shoulder like an old friend. Gentle harp tunes float through the air. Meanwhile, birds chirp somewhere nearby.
I looked around.
Not a single bird around. No harps either.
I slumped down right in the midst of a heap of scrap that rolled on forever. Twisted steel towers poked through the violet haze above. Rusted robot frames lay scattered, smashed vehicles littered around, while massive cogs - like building-sized - lay half-buried.
The wind screamed across the junkyard, almost like a spirit fading out.
"This isn't the Temple," I said. "This is a dump. Great. I left a dump in the real world just to spawn in a dump in the game."
Suddenly, the space right before my eyes split open.
A crack of bright light split the sky, sharp and sudden. Like glass cracking but way slower. My ears got hit by a harsh, grating sound - super loud. Kinda like an old internet connection mixed with heavy machinery roaring.
[ SYSTEM SYNCHRONIZING... ]
A huge blue cube showed up. Yet it kept shaking. Lights blinked on and off. It wobbled, sorta like a bug that can't sit still.
[ SCANNING USER... ]
I held my breath - this was it. The big moment. Either the system spots my fake helmet, cobbled together from trash, or it doesn't. Spot me? Immediate ban.
The blue box became yellow.
[ ERROR: SIGNAL UNSTABLE ]
[ PACKET LOSS: 60% ]
[ USER IDENTITY: UNVERIFIED ]
"Come on," I pleaded, rubbing my hands together. "Just let it slide. Be cool."
The box went red. As the glow spread across the junk heaps, shadows stretched into creepy shapes.
[ CRITICAL ERROR: CLASS SELECTION FAILED ]
My stomach dropped. In Aetheria, what Class you are means more than anything else. Either you're a Warrior, a Mage, a Rogue - maybe even a Healer - or you're nothing. No Class? Then no abilities for you. Magic stays locked away. Honestly, you'd just look silly wearing armor like that.
The words jumbled up. One by one, the characters slipped down the display - just like drops during a storm.
[ ATTEMPTING TO RE-ROLL... ]
[ FAILED. ]
[ ATTEMPTING TO ASSIGN RANDOM TALENT... ]
The shriek grew sharper. Underfoot, the earth began trembling. Along the borders of what I could see, bits flickered apart - showing empty darkness below.
"Is the game breaking?" I shouted over the noise. "Am I breaking the game?"
A flash of dark lightning zipped from the violet clouds, hitting the message area. Though sudden, it lit up everything nearby. Even so, no sound followed - just silence after the strike. Since then, things felt off around that spot.
BOOM!
The blast knocked out my sight for a moment. Once I could see again, the red container had vanished. In its place hovered a dark one with golden edges. Not moving at all. Just floating there, solid and silent.
[ UNIQUE TALENT ACQUIRED ]
I blinked. One-of-a-kind? That meant high price.
[ SYSTEM: ULTIMATE INFINITE EXTRACTION ]
[ CLASS: NONE (GLITCHED) ]
[ STATUS: UNBOUND ]
I stared at the words. "Ultimate Infinite Extraction? What does that even mean?"
I tried to grab the box. But my hand went straight through - then it broke apart into tiny golden specks floating toward me. They slipped inside my chest. Instantly, a weird heat flared up, pooling right behind my eyes.
A different box appeared. It was tinier - kinda like a help popup.
[ TUTORIAL: SKIPPED ]
[ REASON: SYSTEM ERROR ]
[ CURRENT LOCATION: THE RUSTLANDS ]
[ Caution: This area is rated from level one to five. Hostile creatures have been spotted here. ]
"Wait, you skipped the tutorial?" I yelled at the air. "I don't know how to fight! I don't know how to open my inventory!"
The system stayed silent. Meanwhile, the wind grew stronger.
I got to my feet. Not shaky - solid, like I'd gained power somehow. Unlike back home, where standing quick made my joints pop and crack. This version of me moved smooth, ready for action.
"Okay, Tom. Focus," I said. "Check your gear."
I glanced at what I had on. A loose, scratchy linen shirt covered me - paired with dusty brown trousers tied with cord instead of a belt. The shoes on my feet? Old leather, full of scrapes.
I patted my side - sword wasn't there.
I looked behind me. There wasn't a single person there.
I poked around my pockets. Just fluff. Or tiny bits of data instead.
"You have got to be kidding me," I groaned. "I have no weapon."
I started thinking. Then it hit me - I'd seen pros play before. One thing they did was wave their arm. Or sometimes just spoke a word out loud.
Menu," I muttered. Still no reply.
"Inventory!" Still nothing.
"Open sesame?" It sounded silly when I said it.
I moved my hand down like that. Right away, a see-through grid popped up in front of me.
[ INVENTORY ]
[ SLOT 1: EMPTY ]
[ SLOT 2: EMPTY ]
...
[ SLOT 20: EMPTY ]
"Perfect," I muttered. "I am the poorest player in history."
A noise stopped me cold. That noise? A scrape - sharp, sudden. Scratch. Then again. Another scratch. Each one slow, like nails on wood.
It came from the back of an old metal frame near by.
I gulped loudly. My throat turned rough and tight. This wasn't pretend - my body knew it, so fear kicked in fast. Sweat crept across my palms. My heartbeat sped up quick.
I wanted something to fight back - quick. No time to wait.
I checked the dirt. Most of it? Just trash. Bent metal pieces, shattered windows, old hoses. But then - something caught my eye.
A pipe jutted from a heap of greasy cogs. Roughly twenty-four inches long, it had turned a rusty shade of brown - felt weighty, solid. While weathered, it held its shape. Though grimy, no cracks showed. As if built to last, yet forgotten there.
I jumped toward it. But when I caught hold of the icy steel and yanked, nothing gave. Still locked tight.
Skritch. Skritch.
The sound kept coming nearer.
Come on!" I groaned. My boot pressed into the heap of gears while I tugged hard using both palms. Yet something held it back - stubborn, unmoving.
The pipe broke loose with a harsh squeal. Back I staggered, nearly falling from my clumsy step.
I lifted the pipe. Heavy, gritty, with dirt stuck all over it. On one side, broken threads like sharp teeth. Not some blade. Forget fairy tales - no sparkles here. Just old waterwork junk.
Beware, creatures," I muttered - aiming for bold but landing on shaky. "I've got… a metal tube
I held on hard. But the rough rust pressed into my fake hands. It seemed genuine. Way too much.
The scratching stopped.
Silence dropped on the Rustlands. Not even a breeze dared to move.
Next thing, out came a head from under the car frame - peeking through.
It was no adorable rabbit. Nor did it resemble any kind of goo.
A rat. Not your usual one though. Big - like a bulldog big. Grease clung to its fur, coming off in chunks. The worst thing? The way its skin looked. Some parts got swapped out for chunks of metal. Instead of teeth, it had sharp steel bits sticking out. Its eyes lit up this gross red color.
[ TARGET: SCRAP RAT ]
[ LEVEL: 2 ]
Level 2? Nah, I was just Level 1 - no class at all.
The rat let out a hiss. From its nose came steam blasting out. As it dragged its metal claws on the dirt, sparks flew up now and then.
"Nice rat," I said, taking a step back. "Good boy. Go eat a battery or something."
The rodent had no interest in a power cell - instead, it was after me.
It tightened up, ready to leap.
I lifted the old metal tube, stiff from rust. My posture? All wrong. Kinda resembled swinging a crowbar at a baseball.
"This game sucks," I muttered.
Yet deep down - the side that scavenged bins daily just to get by, the one patching up advanced gear with sticky tape - stirred with a quiet thrill.
In real life, I couldn't do much. Because I didn't have enough to eat. So people ignored me.
Here, I grabbed a metal pipe. Meanwhile, there was this setup - supposedly the so-called "Ultimate" one
The rat screamed, then hurled itself up, darting right toward my face.
Time dragged on forever. Then came the spit, flinging off those steel choppers. Its glowing red eyes - pure wild rage stared back at me.
I wasn't thinking - just moved without stopping. What happened came out fast, no delay at all.
I swung the pipe.