It didn't last long—the awful dread of being eaten by the ground. I'd shut my eyes as everything had gone down, which was something I immediately felt a lot of shame about. But, it didn't stop me from opening them--because I was terrified of what I might see. The rumbling stopped, and so did my screams, but that seemed more like an afterthought on my part. Everything was deadly silent, and not for the first time today had I thought that my life was over.

I stayed motionless, feeling as though I wasn't really touching anything, but not not touching anything—if that makes sense. It was like I just existed in a spot. There was no sensation beyond my heart beating. It was as though I was in a temperature-controlled room that was set to feel like a perfect nothing.

It didn't seem like anything worse was happening, so, after a moment I opened my eyes.

I was still in what felt like a dark cavern, and everywhere I looked was absorbed by impenetrable blackness. I was unimpressed. I was just preparing to issue a loud protest when suddenly, a light appeared in the distance. Up ahead of me, in a stretch I would venture to refer to as “not that far away,” there was a glowing silhouette. A blank, featureless outline of humanoid origin gave off gray light not twenty feet from where I was. I tried to take a cautious step forward to inspect the strange sight but found that I was unable to move my limbs. In fact, as I stood there, I realized I wasn't actually standing. I was nothing. No arms, no legs, no body, definitely no bait and tackle, I was entirely without corporeal form.

Just fucking great!

I was a figment of my own imagination—however that worked. I couldn't speak, either, considering I tried to say that statement aloud, to no effect. With what would have been a sigh, I thought about my predicament.

I needed to move forward, and there was no way to do that without a physical presence… right?

Wrong.

Something urged me within the depths of my mind, and I concentrated on moving toward the gray glow. It worked! I felt as though my vision—which was somehow still working—was moving toward the silhouette. I envisioned that I was just a floating pair of eyeballs, and I would have chuckled if that were possible. Soon, though, I was hovering in front of the form, now just inches away.

As soon as I crossed some imperceptible threshold, the silhouette began to shine brighter, and the gray became a cool blue.

That damn color again!

Curiously, a small, splotched, yellow-brown square appeared behind the figure and began to fold out from itself. It grew longer and broader, unfurling into a large ribbon that stretched overhead. It was a banner, and appeared to be made of stained parchment. Then four letters appeared in the center.

LOON

Was this part of the game world?

I'd always found myself on the underside of missing the point, so I was delighted when I suddenly realized what was going on.

Oh! I'm making an avatar!

Score one for the stupid kids.

How does it work, though? I wondered, staring at the blank form. Before I could posit any further, there was a bright flash, and I felt I had been scanned again.

It was so intrusive.

For someone who didn't like people thinking they could grab my details from a glance, I despised the idea that my characteristics could be read so easily. Ever since I showed up on the scene, I'd felt like I was being pummeled with continual x-rays, and each flash was increasing my poor attitude toward future doses of these intrusions.

This better not end up giving me cancer.

After that, the banner behind the figure changed its shape again, unfurling down like a drop cloth as more words appeared.

Scan complete!

Welcome to the selection process of your new body!

Here you will be able to make modifications to your form based on the detail of the analysis.

Please note:

You will choose from one of the generated physiques to occupy the world of Regaia.

Your chosen race and several of your Attributes will influence the forms presented.

While this will be your form as you begin, various factors can modify these physiques over time. Raising and lowering Attributes, magical effects, and environmental factors can morph the body, so one must be careful when adventuring. These changes will become more evident as you progress, so do not worry if you do not currently understand the issue's full spectrum.

The physique breakdown criteria are:

Race - 50 % influence

Strength - 15 % influence

Constitution - 15 % influence

Dexterity - 15 % influence

Charisma - 5 % influence

Based on your current race and Attributes, these are your presented options.

I watched as the featureless form fanned out into more specters, each with varying dimensions. There were five in total and seemed to be arranged left-to-right in order of ascending height. Above each form were descriptions, assumedly what type of body structure indicated. Behind the arrangement of figures, a height chart appeared. It reminded me of a police line-up for witnesses to identify suspects. I'd been in a couple in my life, so the sight of it filled me with anger.

Was this designed to piss me off?

I pushed the thought out of my mind. No, this was probably so that people could see what their starting height would be. Once I realized that, I got very excited. As someone who had spent their entire life under the national average of vertical value, the prospect of being able to be even a few inches taller was enticing enough that I tried to let out a whoop of approval. But, being that my body didn't exist, and by extension, my mouth and vocal cords also absent, I just had to internalize the boost of elation that washed over me.

On the far left was the shortest body, with a sturdy, stocky build. Though it was smaller than all others, it was a little taller than my real body based on the height chart. I supposed, based on the fact that orc was fifty-percent of the total influence, that made sense. If I knew anything about fantasy races, and admittedly, I knew very little, orcs were big mamma jammas. I looked at the descriptor of the physique and read over the details.

Stout Physique

Height: 5'8

Weight: 185 lbs.

I noticed that while the form had some extra meat on its bones, it seemed to be much more solidly built. I supposed that it also had to be due to the orc heritage. Still, it wasn't exactly what I had in mind for piloting around if I would be going off on adventures punchin' dicks and humpin' chicks.

The next one was much taller, but the frame of the physique was massive.

Corpulent Physique

Height: 6'0

Weight: 450 lbs.

I had just escaped obesity in the easiest way possible, and I wasn't keen on returning to that existence yet, thank you very much. I looked at the next figure. It was almost the same height as the overweight one but had a much smaller waist. Of all the forms, this looked the most average, compared to what I'd seen in the real world. Though it did not seem toned in the slightest. I think I'd heard it referred to as 'skinny fat.'

Doughy Physique

Height: 6'1

Weight: 215 lbs.

I shrugged and looked at the last two. Both were much larger than the others, though the one on the right took the cake for height genes in the family. The figure was very tall and thin, to the point that I was reminded of a particular skeletal main character of a creepy claymation musical about Halloween and Christmas.

Beanpole Physique

Height: 6'8

Weight: 170 lbs.

I sighed—internally—and looked at the one to my left. Shorter than the last one in the row, but taller than all the others, this figure had a beefy physique and seemed a little muscular, but was mostly big and solid and had a barrel chest with a bit of softness to the form. It kind of reminded me of a nightclub bouncer or a retired football player. Someone you could tell was a force to be reckoned with while not being exactly jacked out of control.

Burly Physique

Height: 6'4

Weight: 250 lbs.

As I looked over each of them, I became disappointed. None were the hyper-muscular Gregor Clegane-type I had been hoping for, but, at the very least, there was more variation than there had been with the Classes or Races. I had to reason that they appeared the way that they did because of my higher Constitution, and low... everything else.

Just my luck—which I now had quantitative evidence was negative—I'd shot from the hip with my choices, and I was immediately learning the consequences of my actions. Bully for me.

Of all the physical forms presented to me, the one that appealed most to my wants and desires to leave my old body behind was the Burly Physique. It was tall enough that I thought it might be intimidating and substantial enough that I could feel like the badass I always knew I was. You know, deep down on the inside, beneath the layers of protective blubber. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress, and sometimes—I've heard—that's more important.

As if reading my mind, there was a prompt from the banner.

Make your Physique selection.

Well, here goes nothing.

Burly, I said in my mind.

Four of the forms disappeared, leaving only the one I had selected. The banner text disappeared, and I wondered why there wasn't one primary messaging system instead of talking orbs with translucent displays and parchment banners with drop animations. Oh well, that wasn't for me to worry about improving, apparently. I was but a simple, sexy passenger.

New words appeared.

Confirm [Burly Physique]?

Please note that you cannot change your mind once you have made a decision.

Yes or No

Yes, I said—sort of—and watched as the banner folded up and became a single ribbon again.

I was then prompted to select a gender, which offered up several options. I stuck with male, but I did wonder what some of the other choices could yield. Then came skin color, and after a bit of experimenting with palettes, I chose a greenish-gray hue that seemed as close as I could get to what I had envisioned in my mind. I was also asked to select a starting hairstyle and color.

The idea of being trapped with a particular haircut gave me uncomfortable memories of the time in ninth grade when I received the absolute, unrelentingly worst cut of my life from a little old lady at Super Hair Budget Cuts. She had been very nice, and it was possibly the one time in my life where I'd considered not hurting the feelings of someone who had wronged me. It was a grievous blow to my self-esteem to turn around to face the mirror and see the crime against god that the geriatric stylist had shaped my head into.

It was uneven, fluffy, and gave me the appearance of having what I'd described as a "reverse Davy Crocket hat." I'd choked back the rage and felt my soul shatter as I informed the woman that it 'looked great.' The kids at school had been given a gift of humiliation ammo because I felt trapped in an unending nightmare of nicknames, taunts, and chuckles until my hair grew out.

"Never again," I said to myself and selected a short-cropped style that still had a little volume on top. It wasn't very orcish to be fair, but I didn't care. I wanted to be Becky with the good hair. I selected black for the color because I wanted it to look good in combination with the skin tone I'd chosen. I wasn't asked to make any decisions about my face and wondered why. Was my subconscious—which I was still only half-convinced was the true author of this sequence of events—that uncreative?

As if once again reading my mind, the banner behind my future form populated a message:

The construction of facial features will be determined by variable data from your Race and Charisma score.

Ah, shit.

I knew right then and there that I had wholly and completely fucked myself. My Charisma score was abysmal; combining that with the famously handsome features of orcs, I knew I was going to be one ugly son of a bitch. What made matters worse was that, if the logic I'd been shown to be true so far held out, I wasn't even going to be good-looking by the uncouth standards of these wildebeest motherfuckers. No, I was going to be the Habsburg of hideousness. There was nothing worse than being more homely than creatures who are famous for being unattractive.

Well, that was about enough of that. I would have plenty of time to wallow in self-pity of my own beauty shortcomings after I had laid waste to ten thousand enemy hordes. That thought made me smirk. Who needed to be drop-dead-gorgeous when you could just make them drop dead by jamming a trench pike into their larynx?

The banner repopulated, and I looked over the exit message.

Are you happy with your selection?

Yes or No?

Guess I'm not getting an opportunity to see the visage visuals before the maiden voyage.

Sure, I thought.

The message remained.

Oh, uh, yes.

The message disappeared, and I could hear a whistle and whir from beyond the void, as though a jet engine was preparing for takeoff. Then, good ole Burly disappeared, and I was left in the darkness for a moment. Until stars began to appear.

That's neat, I said, and looked up to view the blanket of cosmic patterns. It was beautiful, and I don't use that word ever outside of really tall sandwiches. I felt tiny as I stared up at the sea of celestial lights, all in arrangements that I'd never seen before. I wasn't much of an astronomy buff, but I was about ninety-percent sure that these were foreign constellations and configurations. I didn't see… the Big Dipper? Or Orion. Nor whatever the hell Cassiopeia was. I'm sure many people could understand the feeling of not knowing exactly how, but seeing an absence in what you're used to viewing and knowing something is missing. It was like that.

It was probably from spending years absorbing the information without realizing it, like when you visit an old neighborhood and don't even realize you're not seeing the racist graffiti until you also discover that the whole building it used to be scrawled on is gone as well and had been turned into a shitty 24-Hour gym. There were hundreds of scenarios in which I could be mistaken, but I didn't think so. I knew—from familiarity—that the sky I was looking at was not my sky.

It was as though I was floating on an endless sea of void, and though it was strange and unrecognizable, I didn't mind overmuch. I'd been in worse positions in my life.

I noticed a sparkle at the corner of my perception, and I turned to see a new message had appeared over the backdrop of the abyss. The letters seemed to be made out of glitter and broken moonlight and stretched wide overhead in a marquee.

Choose your Star Sign

Seriously?! Another type of messaging? Y'all need to get your house in order because this is ridiculous. Pick a platform and stick with it.

I would have sighed if I could.

There were several highlighted entries in the dome above, and I squinted at them to try to get a better view of what exactly they signified. As my vision shifted, so did the lights. A pattern had been outlined in the sky, a constellation of some variety. But, when I'd strayed, the nearest one to where I had been looking lit up while the previous one darkened. That was kind of cool. It appeared as though wherever I moved my line of sight, the nearest constellation would highlight, allowing me to see a new option.

I flitted around a few more times before deciding to set my sights on one in particular. It seemed like an elongated "X" with an additional star hanging off the top right arm, but as my vision focused, a sort of illustrative overlay appeared around it in the shape of a large bird.

Albatross

The sign of the long-flight and travelers and believed in many cultures to be an omen. Those who select this Star Sign benefit from reduced stamina drain, neutral reputation in unfamiliar locations, and additional Experience for newly-discovered areas.

I snorted. That wasn't something that appealed to me. Exploration was not on my list of to-dos. But, if this also granted bonuses, like the other choices, I had to believe there might be something that would trip my trigger and benefit someone, like me, who wanted to become a tower of desolate destruction.

I glanced along at the offered options as they lit up one after the other and sighed. I didn’t want to have to read each and every description. It may have seemed stupid to some, but I was ready to go, so I was just hoping something would stand out to be like a shape or a name. However, nothing was resonating with me from the available pool.

Blue Rat

Night Hunter

Sister Rivers

Western Anvil

Northern Anvil

Ambystoma

Mountain

I was preparing to simply select one at random when I suddenly caught a slight glimmer in the sky. It was a tiny cluster of stars that I would likely have skipped over had I not caught the nearly imperceptible glint. The celestial lights were arranged in a horseshoe pattern, and it was slightly slippery to look at, as if I couldn’t quite focus on it. Every time I would try, it would only highlight for a second and I figured I had to be going about it incorrectly.

So I tried not looking directly at it. I stared at a patch of black abyss directly to the constellation’s left and watched as it lit up again. I held my vision still for another moment and finally, a prompt appeared.

Archway

A mysterious sign that may drive the heart of those who consider themselves gamblers. This Archway sits at the throne of whichever beings decide to look through and grant their bounty to the bearer, or may hold no voyeur at all. This is the risk of the Archway. The benefits or drawbacks are unknown.

Ooh, I thought to myself. This is perfect— a completely hands-off style of choice. Sounds like I won't have to fudge around with it much.

Select [Archway]?

Yes or No

Mentally, I selected yes. With a glittering flash and a strangely melodic chime, the sky went dark again and I was bathed in blindness. It was an odd feeling, like being left adrift in a placid black sea.

I could get used to this.

All was quiet for a lot longer than I thought was necessary. In fact, it was reaching a point where I thought I was going to be stuck in the bleak void forever and my anxiety was beginning to raise when suddenly, I felt myself fading. I can’t quite explain how it felt, but imagine if all that remained of you was your consciousness, and that was suddenly turning to mist. It was like waking up, a little, but I wasn’t sure how I could even truly tell because all I could see was, well, nada.

Then, without any further ado, I realized shapes were forming. Tall, slender objects loomed over me and the void was beginning to lighten considerably. For just a ball hair of a moment, I thought I was about to be attacked, but then I realized what I was looking at was familiar.

Trees.

Another second passed, and the world finalized, almost like it had been rendered right there in front of me like an old school video game. The trees became more vivid, I could see their leaves and rough, ruddy bark. Beneath my feet, the ground materialized. It looked damp. Mountains grew in my vision, far in the distance and all manner of flora began to fill the landscape in my vision.

I was assaulted by sensation suddenly. Scents reached my nostrils and I took a gigantic whiff of the air. Flowers, pine, dirt—they all began to invade my olfactory nerve and it was a little alarming how strongly it appeared. It smelled so fresh!

I could feel my tongue inside my mouth and a mild breeze on my skin. The world continued to form, and I realized the sky was overcast, and the air felt a bit wet. Suddenly, a loud boom nearly knocked me to the ground, as a crash of thunder broke above me. I couldn’t see lightning, but I knew the source of the rumble was near—which meant that a storm could have been brewing.

I looked down, and though I couldn’t see it, I knew a smile was now plastered on my face. Legs. I had legs! I peered closely at them. They were still wrapped in the flowing cloth from before, but I could see their size. They looked strong. I noticed how much further from the ground I was than I was used to and put a hand up to steady myself and saw the mottled green-gray flesh of an unfamiliar appendage. A meaty palm with thick fingers and an arm that seemed primed for swinging a heavy weapon.

“Yes!” I shouted triumphantly and paused. My voice was deep. Like, really deep. That was something I hadn’t expected at all, though I supposed I should have. A body this size in such a visceral creature was bound to have some bass in its bellow. Though, it would have been really funny to me, objectively, to have retained my original voice. Nothing would cause villains to quake in their dark age galoshes quite like a tenor.

I took some time moving around a bit, getting used to this new body, and was quite pleased with the ease I was able to adopt. I felt good. I explored the space I’d arrived in. It seemed to be somewhat high in the hills or mountains—which exactly wasn’t clear by the scenery I could catch through patches in the trees. There was some degree of elevation to be sure, though how much was still a mystery.

I heard another rumble of thunder and smiled. No amount of rain was going to stop this picnic. I was preparing to do a little more adventurous meandering when I heard the snap of a twig behind me, and I whirled around to face it.

Standing in front of me was a familiar form. Curly brown hair, a pretty face, elegant clothing. The strange woman from the train. She was smiling, and held up a dainty hand in greeting.

“Oh,” she said. “Hello. I didn’t expect anyone to arrive at this location. You’re a bit off the mark, kiddo.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “I mean, what’s going on? Did you do this?”

She held a finger to her lips and made a shushing noise.

“Settle down a moment,” she said chidingly. “I just wanted to make sure you arrived in one piece. Seems you did, big boy.” She leered at me and I felt rotten suddenly.

“Tell me where I am,” I demanded, taking a step forward. “Or I’ll rip you in half.”

“Oh, sweetie,” the woman said, shaking her head. “That’s adorable. I could literally dissolve your bones where you stand. Shut your mouth and listen.”

I wanted to say something clever in response, but I was too taken aback by the situation to do much more than the slight bit of contrarian back talk I had already managed. So I just stayed silent.

“Good boy,” she said with a smile. “Alright, so, as I mentioned, you’re a bit far off the path, but, that’s alright. That’s why this is so much fun.”

She snapped her fingers and a leather satchel appeared in the air. She snatched it up and tossed to me. I went to grab it, but missed by several inches and it clattered to the ground. She chuckled.

“So deft,” she admonished sarcastically. “Might want to work on that.”

“What’s this for?” I demanded again, finally finding my voice.

“Ah, the child found his quivering tongue,” she responded. “It’s your starter pack.”

“What does that do?”

She leveled an evil gaze at me.

“It will help you survive.”

“What’s in it?”

“I suppose you will have to figure that out for yourself, little one.” She said, and turned her back to me and began walking away.

“Wait!” I called out, but in a flash, she was gone.

“Well… FUCK!” I shouted.