Lying on my back, staring at the clouds, I breathed in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling as if I’d run a marathon. Relief flooded through me. A little out of breath and soaking wet but still alive.

  Glancing at my bicep, I inspected the area where the arrow grazed me. What I had been certain would kill me had turned out to be little more than a scratch. For that, I was truly grateful.

  Being alone in a game-like world sounded crazy to imagine, and here I was, inside one. I couldn’t even begin to think about what my mom might say. Would she panic? Wonder where I’d gone off to? Or file a missing persons report?

  All these notions running through my head frustrated me like hell. But sitting here worrying about what was going on at home wasn’t going to keep me alive. No, sir. My best bet was to stay aware and hope for the best. That way, I wouldn’t end up panicking like a wuss out here while crazy elves shot arrows at me.

  Sitting up, I scanned my surroundings, straining to listen for anything—or anyone—that might still be hunting me. On one side, the river I had crossed bubbled softly. On the other, endless grass and impossibly tall trees loomed, their shadows stretching long and eerie.

  Where I sat, a small patch of earth provided little comfort, the rough ground pressing against me.

  To my left, a towering oak stretched into the sky like church folk arms on a Sunday. Beyond it, more of the same—vast wilderness with no sign of life. Not even my good-for-nothing guide, Cashius.

  The only sounds were birds chirping and insects rustling through the leaves, their foreign noises filling me with unease. Occasionally, a flicker of movement in the distance made me jump, my nerves on edge.

  After a few minutes, I accepted the truth. No, Cashius. No immediate threats. No weapons.

  Only me and this strange, bizarre world.

  At that moment, I noticed them—blue, ant-like insects crawling everywhere. Dozens of them, maybe hundreds, scuttling over the ground and the trees. I grimaced. “Perfect,” small, ugly things with oversized heads and tiny abdomens.

  Curiosity got the better of me, and I bent to pick one up.

  Bad idea.

  The little bastard stung me, sending a sharp, burning pain through my fingers. I cursed and flung it to the ground, stomping it in frustration. Orange blood spattered across the dirt where its carcass lay.

  “Great,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just what I need. More injuries.”

  Shaking off the sting, I inspected the arrow wound on my arm. It wasn’t infected—at least not yet—but it throbbed with a dull ache. I tore my sleeve and wrapped the wound tightly, hoping it would hold.

  Then my stomach growled. Loudly.

  I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I hadn’t eaten since last night before I’d gone to bed. Now, here I was, stranded in some fantasy nightmare, and if I didn’t find food soon, I’d be in even worse shape.

  Standing, my eyes searched the area. The only thing of interest was a stick lying a few yards away. It looked sturdy enough, though I’d much rather have had the sword I’d dropped during my escape.

  “Better than nothing,” I mumbled, trudging over to pick it up.

  It looked like a broomstick that janitors use to sweep the halls, just missing the head. I gave it a swing and rather liked it. Sure, it wasn’t the sword, but if I bopped someone with this, they would feel it.

  As I gripped the stick, small words hovered over it—exactly like they did with everything else if I locked on it hard enough. It didn’t feel right yet, but survival meant adapting.

  Ordinary Stick—Level 1.

  Only a stick.

  Hmm.

  I brought up the translucent menu again. It lingered in my vision, its glowing options taunting me with their uselessness. I scrolled through the lists, but without Cashius to guide me, it all felt hopeless.

  I was alone, stuck in this bush-covered wilderness with no plan, no weapons, and no idea what to do next. Trying to figure out what I had gotten myself into. Then something struck me.

  How I hadn’t figured it out before was beyond me. But what mattered now was that I had unlocked a bit of information about this world—information I could use.

  It seemed I was a character in an RPG.

  The kind I used to play as a kid—filled with gigantic swords and evil megalomaniacs trying to take over the world.

  A real-life RPG.

  The only things missing were the heroic music and outrageous outfits.

  Pondering what it all meant, I remembered the menu had a message for me. Flashing on the bottom, waiting for me to open it. I hoped it would better explain the situation I was in or, at the very least, provide some information on where I could find food. The icon resembled an envelope, like the kind you’d see in most games or on the internet.

  Using my mind to pull up the menu—which I still didn’t fully understand how to control—a vibration went through my body, much like holding a gaming pad, but all over. I opened the panel and was immediately bombarded by a slew of messages, all marked unread and flashing.

  I opened the first one.

  “Welcome to Orbralis,” it read in bright orange Helvetica font.

  Another smaller screen appeared, accompanied by a whoosh sound, revealing the text waiting to be read.

  Precisely as I started to read them, I noticed something in the outline of a radio speaker. Much like the one at the bottom of your computer screen. I centered on it and a voice began reading for me—low and stoic, with a dash of hope. The longer I listened, the more it reminded me of James Earl Jones. The realization made me chuckle as I let it continue, explaining exactly what I had gotten myself into.

  Welcome to Orbralis, champion.

  You have been chosen by your mentor, the great Cashius. Here, in the nexus of creation, you will wage war against an enemy so powerful that, if you lose, the very fate of the universe will hang in the balance.

  You and your guide will embark on the most important mission of your life. Defeat an ancient foe and emerge victorious. Together, you will face the calamities ahead, working to restore justice to a world on the brink of ruin.

  To succeed, you must gather five pieces of Orbralis from the five mysterious lands, wielding your unique abilities to reshape destiny itself. Only then—when the totem is whole—can Orbralis stand a chance against the Nameless One.

  First, you must unlock the path forward. To do that, explore the world, solve puzzles, and complete quests. Once you gain enough experience, the quest to defeat the Nameless will begin.

  Every person, item, and enemy is real and can either kill you or help you, depending on the mission. Equip yourself with the right gear, slay monsters, and carve out whatever life you want.

  Hell, you can even forget the whole thing and live however you see fit. Become a farmer; start a family. Even get a job.

  It’s all up to you. But be warned—whether you choose to fight or flee, the Nameless One’s power is rising. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face him.

  So, warrior, do you have what it takes to play the most realistic game ever devised? Or will you fall to the side and let the world become a victim of the Nameless One?

  Ha. Darth Vader was the narrator.

  Speechless—and still hungry—I flicked to the messages screen and skimmed through the rest. They were nothing but instructions on how to use weapons and items I didn’t even have, which only fueled my frustration.

  There had to be something in this stupid menu that could help me out.

  Still holding the stick in my hand, I scrolled through it, searching desperately for anything useful. Some kind of information I could use. Because if those elves showed up again, I was done for.

  Opening the map, I saw my location marked by an arrow. I was in a section called the Hinsen Forest. The rest of the map was grayed out, unrevealed because I hadn’t explored those areas yet.

  Closing it, I searched through other sections of the menu, still looking for something that could help me.

  I pulled up the Skills menu and examined it carefully, making sure not to miss anything.

  There were skills—though all of them seemed completely useless at the time: LockPicking, Haggling, CardPlayer, Executioner, and so on. Each was set at a measly 1, but staring at them for a few seconds brought up more detailed descriptions.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  LockPicking let me open doors that were normally locked. Haggling allowed me to negotiate with shopkeepers and NPCs. CardPlayer influenced my luck in mini-games. There were about forty of these skills, all confusing at the moment.

  I played games often and recalled my experience points. Even though I hadn’t done much yet, I knew I had gained some—mainly from running away from the elves and maybe a few more from dodging those nasty Fearless creatures.

  I searched through the menu and found what I was looking for on the main screen, near the top—my current level, health, mana, and experience gauge. With everything going on, I must’ve missed it before, but seeing my experience bar partially filled brought me a little relief.

  Next, I checked the abilities page—nothing. No skills, no powers.

  As I cycled through the menus, a banner at the bottom of the stats page caught my eye.

  Welcome Gift.

  I targeted it.

  The moment I did, a small chirping sound echoed in my head.

  “What was that?” I wondered.

  Returning to the main menu, I saw a new message waiting for me, one that simply read “Congratulations.” I opened it, surprised by its contents.

  I had received a newcomer’s gift for using the menu—an achievement.

  “Yes!” I clenched the stick tightly, making a fist.

  Though the world I was in was strange, many of the mechanics were things I was familiar with. Achievements, even for small things, were a common reward in games.

  Next, a small window appeared a few feet above my head. Using my mind, I clicked it, and a wooden crate dropped to the ground with a thunk. About three feet wide, with glowing red lights, it shook slightly when it landed, and the top sprang open.

  I peered inside and saw a turkey leg—or some kind of animal leg, at least—a simple shirt, and pants. Along with the items were two potions. Covered in a strange script, I wondered what it said.

  The potions were small tubes filled with strange neon liquid—one purple and the other green, each about the size of a remote, with wooden corks holding the fluids inside. I picked them both up, and a dotted box hovered over one as I focused on it. Reviving Potion, it read.

  Underneath, in italics, was a description: Extremely rare. Revives after death.

  The other potion was labeled Stealth, with the following description: Grants a +100 to your stealth stat for a limited time.

  Interesting.

  Now, how do I add all this crap to my inventory? I wondered to myself.

  “Inventory,” I said aloud, hoping it would somehow work.

  Nothing happened.

  “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be that easy,” I said, puzzled.

  At that point, I had an idea. Maybe I’ll stick it inside my shirt. Maybe that’ll do it, I mused.

  Would you believe me when I say it did?

  Merely putting things inside my shirt made them disappear and reappear at will. I took off my shirt to test it further, and sure enough, it did—even when I didn’t have a shirt on! No more than the motion was enough to make the items vanish and reappear.

  Chest naked, I reached inside and pulled out the new shirt, then the pants, followed by a small necklace hidden beneath them.

  Necklace of Power—Level 1

  Adds 3 to Strength, hovered above it.

  “Nice,” My fingers tightened around the necklace. +3 Strength should’ve mattered, but all I felt was the ghost weight of Stacy’s graduation program I’d never signed.

  All on my own, without Cashius to guide me, I had managed to figure out a small piece of this strange world. A sense of pride swelled in my chest.

  Next, I grabbed the shirt lying beside me and inspected it with wary eyes.

  Priest’s Undershirt—level 1 appeared in glowing letters when I dialed in on it, followed by a description:

  A priest has to have something under their robes, and this is it. Wearing this will boost your wisdom.

  Hmm. It seemed to be made of plain cotton, with two strings dangling from each wrist. Holding it up, I couldn’t help but think it looked like something a medieval poet would wear.

  I slipped it on and felt a slight shift as my Wisdom increased by 1.

  The pants were much the same—nothing special, but they added +2 to Agility and quieted my footsteps.

  Simple Pants—level 1.

  As the name implies, these simple pants will cover your hind parts and give you a slight boost to your agility.

  A small boost, but I’d take whatever advantage I could get.

  I flexed my hand, feeling a little stronger. “That’s nice, I guess.” I grinned.

  These new items would come in handy soon. Though I wasn’t aware what +1 meant to my Wisdom yet. I wasn’t as scared anymore.

  After stuffing the two potions into my pants pockets, I grabbed the pad and the stick, adding them to my inventory. I felt like I had accomplished something great.

  My chest puffed out—I was finally ready to get something in my stomach.

  Gathering the portion of meat and holding it in my hand. I started salivating.

  Uncooked floated above it.

  Hmm. What could I use to cook this? Or should I eat it raw?

  I tried to bite into it, but it was as hard as steel.

  “Dammit,” I slammed it down. “It’s one thing after another,” I paused. “Maybe I should see how much health I have left.”

  As soon as I concentrated on it, a new icon flashed—one that said Hunger. Followed by my health meter, which was pulsing along to the rhythm of my heart.

  Frowning, I quickly stashed the meat into my inventory.

  HP: 413.

  It blinked once, then shifted.

  HP: 412.

  My health was draining—slowly but steadily. If I didn’t eat, I would die.

  I let the numbers disappear as I spotted some wood lying a few yards from me. Shining, with a soft, white background tracing its form, maybe I could use it to start a fire.

  I ran before the pile of wood, before inspecting it. Bending down, I lifted a piece. Its rough texture felt like any ordinary wood, but it was surprisingly light—about the length of my forearm. I guess that +3 to Strength made a difference.

  Now, how do I turn you into a fire?

  I picked up another piece and did what anyone in my situation would’ve tried. Placing the two sticks across from each other, I rubbed them together, fast and firm, applying as much pressure as I could.

  After about a minute, a spark flickered—after that, flames.

  Startled, I dropped the burning wood and quickly tossed more wood onto it, feeding the small but growing fire. Quickly, I took a piece of splintered wood, stuck it through the meat from my inventory, and placed it on the fire.

  The fat sizzled, sending up tendrils of smoke that carried the rich aroma of herbs and spices through the air. My stomach growled, signaling my first real victory here.

  I checked my health—down to 410.

  Sitting, I got as comfortable as I could while staying alert to my surroundings. The wait felt endless, but after about ten minutes, the meat was finally done.

  I blew on it, pinched a piece from the bone, and popped it into my mouth.

  Instantly, I felt better.

  And the taste? Heavenly.

  Surprisingly, it was better than anything I’d ever eaten before. Whatever animal this came from put the chicken where I from to shame.

  The meal made me think of home, and I wondered what my mom was doing. Where had my sister gone after graduation? Had she enjoyed herself? Or had my mom called her after I didn’t show up for dinner?

  Were they worried about me? Wondering where I had disappeared to?

  After my father passed, my mom depended on me to handle certain things around the house. Mowing the grass every Sunday, as he had done faithfully. Fixing things when they broke. Taking care of the little tasks he would have handled without a second thought.

  The last thing she asked me to do was check the garbage disposal. Even though I told her I had no idea what I was doing, she still wanted me to take a look before calling the repairman.

  It was things like that that flashed through my mind as I ate the foreign meat—having dinner with Mom and Stacy, going to church on Sunday mornings, arguing over who got to use the shower first on busy days. My chest tightened. That life felt far away now.

  My face greasy and stomach full, I felt satisfied. Disaster averted, you know? It took a few minutes, but the Hunger icon disappeared, and my health was now resting at a steady 1000.

  I tossed the bone aside and leaned on my elbows, relishing my small victory. Relieved that I had figured something out. Even if it was as simple as eating.

  Another chirp and a notification blinked in the corner of my vision.

  Achievement Unlocked: Cooked First Meal.

  Open to receive your prize.

  I followed the directions, and with a thud, a treasure chest dropped at my feet.

  Cool.

  I opened it, eager to see my prize—only to feel a pang of disappointment.

  What I needed was a weapon, not a set of pots and pans.

  Still, I pulled them into my inventory and shifted my focus to getting some rest.

  The real problem? Where—and how?

  I knew I couldn’t stay here out in the open. With a fire blowing smoke into the air. I didn’t fully understand the mechanics of this world, but it seemed realistic, and I was for sure not about to stick around where I could be found.

  I rose to my feet and moved farther from the river, fear gnawing at me. Full, but far from safe, I stayed on high alert, scanning for enemies as I walked.

  I wondered where Cashius had gone off to and why he had deserted me. Without anyone to properly guide me, I was dead meat. A dog without his pack, destined to wander around for good, knew how long.

  That’s when I saw it—the path forward, guiding me toward a path shrouded by trees.

  I had to make a decision. Follow the path ahead or blaze my trail?

  Previously, when I followed it, the elves had simply turned and gone their own way, leaving me on this side of the river. That had given me a chance to find supplies and learn a few things about this world.

  Going off on my own, though? That could easily get me killed—or worse.

  I hesitated, torn between options.

  “Please, Lord, show me the way,” I prayed.

  And would you believe it? A bird landed on a branch near the road as if answering my prayer.

  At least, that’s how it seemed to me.

  Suddenly, I heard something nearby—something rattling in the trees. Probably more of those blue ant things, I thought. Nothing to be alarmed about. But my pulse quickened as I zeroed in on the sound and saw a small bush shake.

  Leaves flew into the air, making me even more alarmed. Quickly, I opened my inventory and equipped my stick—at least I could swing the thing at whatever came out.

  I crouched, ready to strike.

  That’s when a tiny creature leaped out, baring its teeth.

  Shuckler—Level 2.

  A forest creature. Small, cute, and annoying. Nothing a warrior like yourself can’t handle.

  “Whoa.” I gasped at the cute, rabbit-like thing. “I won’t hurt you… Just keep still while I check you out, little fella.”

  Lowering my stick, I reached out cautiously. Up close, the creature had brown, matted fur and the biggest, doe-like eyes I had ever seen. Its feet were tipped with sharp claws, and its mouth—held in a constant hiss—revealed some of the sharpest teeth I’d ever laid eyes on.

  The more I looked at it, the less it resembled a cute bunny and more like a rabid weasel.

  I yanked my hand as more rustling filled the air.

  “Uh-oh.”

  A horde of the little creatures sprang from the underbrush, hissing and lunging at me, desperate to take a bite. They reeked of cat piss and vomit—nothing like what I’d expected.

  They moved in unsettling synchronicity, their matted fur bristling like poisoned darts. The largest one chittered, coordinating flanking maneuvers that drove me deeper into the forest.

  I retreated toward a moss-covered boulder, swinging my stick in wild arcs. The lead creature’s claws scraped stone as I ducked behind it, buying precious seconds. Lunging with my stick, I sent the little fur ball flying over their canopy.

  A coin and a glowing orb fell on the floor before me. I quickly bent before any could bite and swiped them both up. The money and the orb both disappeared, leaving me puzzled.

  With not a second to ponder, I brought my foot down on one with a sickening crunch, but two more latched onto my leg—their teeth sinking in as my HP ticked down: 389…387…—as the corrosive ooze ate at my calf. The stuff fizzled like baking soda and vinegar in a science experiment gone wrong.

  “Come on, you little fuckers… I can take you,” noticing the ooze stuff slowly dissipating.

  But my confidence was wavering.

  I was a loser who didn’t even go to college—I had no idea what I was doing. Especially not this. Swinging a stick like some crazed lunatic, hoping it’d connect.

  From the trees, more rustling than an army of things emerged. Hissing. Snapping and coming towards me.

  Panting and filled with apprehension, I simply wanted to be back home, playing the video game—or even freezing when I had the chance to meet a pretty girl. Anything was better than fighting off these ugly little monsters.

  My gaze fell as my muscles began to ache. Massaging them, it felt hopeless. I’d already lost a few HP and would probably lose some more if I kept at it. I merely needed to kill the few around my feet and get the hell out of here—fast.

  But as I stomped and shouted, panic gnawed at me. The small ones that emerged from the bushes were getting closer and closer. Chest heaving in my newly acquired shirt, it was now hard to breathe.

  Eyes darting across the battlefield, I decided the best thing for me to do was get out there as fast as I could.