Dream Drive Ch. 01

You can access the game menu by saying 'game menu' at any time.

A red bar was sitting in the corner of his vision. Either he hadn't noticed it before, or it had just got there. He cleared his throat. "Game menu."

A slightly translucent screen appeared in front of him, hanging in midair. On one half of the screen was his avatar, looking at him with a neutral expression. He'd expected empty boxes-spots where he could put equipment-but he didn't see anything.

The right half of the screen was just blank. At the bottom were a few numbers, and underneath them was an options button, and another button that read 'skill trees'.

Carry Weight: 0.00/35.00 (0%)

Health: 50.00/50.00

Status Effects: None

He tried the options button first. The only thing that came up was the ability to quit the game. He tried it, experimentally. A smaller box with red text flashed in front of him.

Warning: If you log off without secure shelter, your avatar will remain behind for 30 seconds. During this time, you will be completely vulnerable. Think carefully before taking this risk.

That was a dangerous level of persistence. If he quit the game in middle of nowhere, a monster could come up and kill him. Or, hell, another player could kill him. He didn't know anything about player-on-player combat, so he had to assume the worst. Come to think of it, he had no idea what would happen if he died.

He'd be alone for a little while. Jackson had signed on to be in the beta, but so did millions of other people. Crux was only taking five thousand, chosen by random lottery. Jackson didn't like those odds, so he'd ensured he'd get a copy through the Top Gamer contest. He'd quit early, forgoing his scheduled match so that he could play Isis. He might be the very first person in the game.

He canceled his logout and tapped the skill tree button. Another box opened in front of him, this time asking him if he wanted to view active or passive skills. He hit the active panel. It was entirely blank.

He closed the active skills box by hitting an X in the corner, then opened the passive skill box. There was a single tab that showed an image of a man's running feet. It was labeled 'Sprinting'. He tapped it. Yet another box opened.

Sprinting: Run at high speeds. Skill level effects maximum speed and duration. (Modifers: Vit, Agi)

Level: 1

Progress: 0.13%

Alright. So the only skill he'd used was the only skill that showed up. Maybe trying different things would fill in the gaps. He assumed that the 0.13% was from his escape attempt. But this was neat-if he ran a lot, he'd get better at running. Made sense.

He wondered how good at running he could get. He wasn't very athletic-hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd sprinted in real life. But would he cap out at Olympics levels of running? Or could he go further?

And the bit at the end-modifiers. Vit and Agi. Jackson had played a lot of games, and he recognized the shortened version of those statistics immediately-Vitality and Agility. So, he did have stats, and they affected his performance, even if he couldn't see them. At least, for the moment.

"Close menu." The layers of boxes and screens vanished. A moment later, more floating blue words scrawled themselves in front of him.

You were a slave to angels. You worked to build the next level of the tower, Babel. Human generations have been born and died before a single level of Babel has been completed, but the angels have an eternity to wait.

It is written that the star-marked pose a grave danger to the angels and normal humans. Such cursed individuals, marked by darkness, are banished to the base of the tower.

The tower is vast. Its breadth was made great, and its height must be still greater. The angels built themselves cities in which to live upon each level, as did the humans.

Those humans left behind when one level was completed created their own cities, countries, and civilizations. Some thrived, while others died. Some scraped together what they could from the ruins of those that came before. Perhaps some have forgotten from whence they came.

Powerful magics course through the tower, remnants of the passing angels, their artifacts and guardians, their essence forged into the walls and rocks. Magic unchecked gives rise to things both great and terrible. For magic is the power of change, and change begets change.

And change...well. Change can be good, and it can be bad.

The text vanished.

He glanced up and down the tunnel. The water kept dripping. He was alone, naked, and relatively helpless. If he was going to survive, he needed a weapon.

Jackson picked a direction at random and started walking.