He didn't know what he'd expected, but the change was instantaneous and terrifyingly intense. He felt his body being filled by a strange power. There was too much, there was too much. It overflowed as if it were too much for his body to contain, or as if he were a broken container with a hole through which the excess filtered. In any case, it was too much for him. It was too much for a mortal body. That's what he thought immediately, although he knew hundreds of thousands of people had survived this process. I'm going to die, I'm going to die. And he supposed that was true. Maybe he wouldn't cease to exist, but what came out the other side wouldn't be him. It wouldn't be the same old him.

  I'm going to die. He felt like vomiting. He staggered backward and almost died for real. It was such a huge drop, but it didn't matter. You could kill yourself just falling from the ground to the ground. You didn't need a great distance, just a bad hit, a bit of bad luck. And he had a lot, but a lot of bad luck. He knew he wasn't going to stay standing, so he let himself fall, but sideways, collapsing at full length. He was going to vomit. That was also a danger. If he rolled, if he passed out, he could choke. But his thoughts weren't very clear. Everything burned in the white fire of the power that filled him, that changed him inside. The best he could do was let himself be dragged like a kite at the mercy of the wind. Let himself be dragged and cross his fingers to come out intact on the other side. Come on. Nothing. It was just admitting he was at fate's mercy. But it had always been that way. Not since he'd arrived in this city, in Ashfall, but because he'd always been at the system's mercy. Even before being born. A bad hand. He'd been born with a bad hand, with the whole fucking deck of bad cards. If he had enough air in his lungs, he'd be screaming. It didn't hurt, but he was so overwhelmed the sensation resembled it enough.

  After a few hours, or a few minutes, or a few seconds—impossible to know—things calmed down. It hadn't stopped completely, but at least he should be able to get up. And at minimum return to the hotel. It was manageable. But most importantly... That's it, he thought. I made it. Well yes. Yes. It had worked. It had been worth it.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The fucking blue screens appeared before his eyes, showing his name and a variety of Stats, all of them at one. Not because he was human waste, but because he'd just started, naturally. It only meant he was still a normal human. Still. That would change. With this power he could take control of his destiny. Cut himself a small slice outside the System. Although most of the world was enslaved, of course, capitalism wasn't far behind. They'd stepped into this new territory right away. But the freedom that being something more than human would grant him was incomparable. It was like a drug. Yeah. Although he'd done nothing but touch it with his fingertips.

  Now, even though he felt like shit, now he should do his first quest to earn enough money to get himself a room. His first quest. He remembered everything Alma had explained to him. It wasn't that difficult. If other people could do it, why the hell not him? He'd been surpassed everywhere, by people who'd been born with an advantage, with a family, with a great amount of resources. But this was a new starting point. No one would kick him out of his sanctuary one more time. He'd prove to everyone what he was really worth. It was going from the rubble of one system to a different one. But, so what? It was what he had.

  James stood up. It was time to start working.

  The first quest, the introductory or tutorial quest, was the same for everyone. That's how they'd designed this city's system, this economic bubble, an independent mind. The place: a portal on the outskirts, right at the end of an animal path. Very appropriate, he thought. He wasn't the only one hanging around the area.

  "Are you going to do it today too?" a man about his age told him. "This looks bad, dude."

  He was saying it to be nice. He was almost sure of that. But still it felt like a kick in the balls, like he was spitting in his face and mocking him.

  "It's none of your business," he snapped, and went through the portal.

  First quest. First dungeon. He could take things more calmly once he'd secured his path to the future, the only one left to him.