Grass was a common sight in most places, but something glorious in this strange land. The endless grassland stretched out well into the horizon beyond. As Scott watched the gentle swaying of that dream-like vista, he listened to the music that played in the background. It was a jubilant, ephemeral, sound heard with perfect crystalline clarity.

It was almost a sin to speak in this wild place while such music played, but then he had long since given up caring about a concept as useless as sin. “So, this is the dream world, huh?”

In his young life he'd dealt with myriad difficulties and personal horrors that most people would never have to experience in any form. Tired of the world and everything in it, Scott nearly gave up his last shred of hope that anything good could come from such a pointless thing as life on Earth.

Things changed three days prior, when for the first time he'd become truly excited by something other than a new video game to steal his time away. As ridiculous as it might sound, the entire world fell asleep at the same time.

The global phenomenon now known as the First Dream occurred without warning. No matter where they were, or what they were doing, everyone had fallen asleep. Several hours passed while the world slumbered on. Planes fell from the sky. Cars ran off of the road. Fires that sprang up continued to burn unabated, and surgeons fell asleep atop their patients in the operating room. Tens of millions of people died that first day.

Scott did not much care about that. The world had done him no favors, and if anything its existence did nothing but steal time from his quiet life as a suburban hermit.

During those difficult hours for humanity, the modern zeitgeist was changed in its entirety. The spirit of the 2020s would no longer be that of a world on the verge of incredible scientific breakthroughs in computer and space technology. Slightly over three days after the dream began, the world had already started a grand shift in the expectations of the future.

The First Dream signaled a time of discovery for the human race. Compelled to change themselves, to become more than what they were before, humanity must follow new roads to its supposed bright future.

In fact, everyone was forced to recreate themselves anew. Levels, stats, skills and spells; these were the rule of law in the dream world. The dream operated exactly like a role playing game. It could be said that the entire world was on the cusp of becoming a full-immersion game system that everyone logged into upon falling asleep.

No one knew the reason why it happened, save for the strange knowledge that the otherworld books offered. No one knew how such a change was possible. Yet, it was the truth. When someone went to sleep, they would enter into an alternate reality that was both fantastic and impossible.

Now that Scott finally joined the rest of his fellow humans in this dream world, he was ready to begin making an attempt to live the life that he always wanted. His greatest personal desire was to be free of it all. He wanted to be beholden to neither the rule of law, nor the constant chattering of the inane and insipid people outside of his door.

He began to check his equipment. This world was like a game, and like a game he was gifted with starter equipment. While he did not enter this world properly last night when the dream went live, he did revisit the dark room the night before that for a final gift, starter gear.

Scott tapped his copper cuirass then unsheathed his copper sword. He placed his weapon back into its sheathe then considered the situation for a moment.

"Better check their stats," he said lightly.

Copper Sword of the Dreamer

Equipped: Hand[1]

Weight: 3.5

Weapon Type: Short Sword

Attack Power: 4

Quality: Standard

Structural Force Limit: +1

Durability: 20/20

Hardness: 8

Equipment Requirements:

Strength: 9

Agility: 9

Special Options:

None

"Nothing new there," he said.

Copper weapons were much stronger than ones made of wood or common stone, but compared to iron or steel they would be destroyed quickly in a fight. A hardness of eight was decent against fleshy creatures and cutting up meat, but against something like a steel breast plate a normal copper sword would lose two points of durability every time he struck it with sufficient force.

It would be much worse if his strength were higher. The structural force limit was only plus one. If he increased his strength to fourteen, he'd lose more durability than normal with each full strength strike. He would be forced to only strike with light hits for fear of breaking his weapon. Even those strikes would add up over time to reduce the durability of his weapon.

"Sword's good, but better check my armor," he said before looking down at his cuirass.

Copper Cuirass of the Dreamer

Equipped: Accessory[1]

Weight: 18

Armor Type: Heavy Plate

Armor Class: 6

Quality: Standard

Agility Reduction: -3

Durability: 20/20

Hardness: 8

Equipment Requirements

Strength: 9

Agility: 9

Bonus Armor Class: +3

Special Options

None

"That agility penalty will be a pain in the ass until I train the burden down," said Scott while looking at the statistical information.

Heavy armor automatically reduced agility by two points for the first piece and then by an additional point for every ten pounds of armor weight. Choosing to equip it into one of his three accessory slots dropped his agility penalty by one point in regards to the cuirass itself, but the weight was high enough that any additional armor would likely add another agility point penalty.

The beginner clothing he was granted only held durability and no other stats. Even minor attacks would shred them, provided that they were stronger than the bonus armor class he acquired from equipping his breastplate. He could wear or wield anything he liked, but there would be penalties for using items if he lacked appropriate skills.

Armor's true penalty was that unless it was equipped as an accessory item, it would only provide protection for the location where he wore it. Further, he would be unable to access the special options and would not receive any skill bonuses associated with it.

Weapons held similar concerns. He could attempt to wield anything he liked, but there would be accuracy and damage penalties that reduced his total ability. Further, he would not be able to use the special options some weapons possessed.

During the First Dream he opted to choose skills that he was certain would allow him to become self-sufficient over time. He chose mostly magical and combat skills, but he also chose a few interesting production skills.

Upon acquiring those new skills he acquired the knowledge of how they were used. It was as though the information was directly downloaded into his brain. He only knew the most basic concepts and capabilities of his skills, but he would be able to learn more in time.

Skills and spells, the most important aspect of his new dream life, he needed to check them in order to see if they still worked in the way that his memories claimed.

After a moment of careful consideration, he decided to test his magical abilities. Scott raised his right hand then began to speak in a measured and confident tone.

~Anger of the disquiet soul, become my weapon and strike down my enemy. ~

“Jolt!” he cried.

He remained in place with his hand outstretched for a brief moment. However, nothing happened.

"What?" he asked after another few seconds passed without any sort of interesting effect occurring. Scott looked around but saw nothing to indicate that he'd even casted a spell.

"Why didn't it work?" He delved into his memories regarding magic. The basics where there, but it was not like he'd been granted a step by step tutorial on magical spell casting.

It took him a few minutes to piece together what he needed to do. Scott tried once more.

Once again he raised his hand and pressed his palm forward. He concentrated on his breathing. He focused on a singular image within his mind, one of light flowing from him all-over his body to a single point in front of his hand.

As the image solidified, he concentrated harder and envisioned a sphere of energy where the light was supposed to gather. Soon, he felt a strange energetic pulse moving from his body to the space in front of his hand.

Over time he began to weaken. His limbs began to shake, and his body felt cold. However, with the trembling and the cold came a visible response in the air before him. The sphere of energy faded into existence as a tiny pin-prick of brightly luminescent power that held an appearance similar to a radiant liquid.

Once that pin-prick appeared the drain on Scott's body increased by a staggering degree. He lost control almost instantly and fell to his knees. The power that he'd gathered began to dissipate, and soon winked out of existence.

"God damn, what the hell was that?" he asked through panted breaths. Quickly, he checked his status but to his surprise he'd lost only one point of life force.

The crippling weakness his felt abated not long after, and he found that he was able to breathe easier once more. His failure stuck with him, however. Magic would be hard to master.

Searching through his memories, he began to piece together what he'd done. In short, he was succeeding but the strangeness of using his life's essence in such a way caused him to lose focus. He would need to exert five times the magical energy to produce his spell. He held the capacity to do so, but he needed to keep his composure.

Once he took a few deep breaths he tried again. He found the visualization stage was easier to accomplish this time. However, actual focus of his life force into working magical energy was still draining and hard to accomplish.

Each time that he felt the sphere grow, he knew that it supposedly meant that he'd expended another point of his life force. By the time he'd focused five points he was barely able to stand.

Body trembling he shifted from charging his energy to crafting his spell. He held the energy before him while once again reciting his spell.

~Anger of the disquiet soul, become my weapon and strike down my enemy. ~

He gritted his teeth as pain lanced through his body. The air around his energy ball began to crackle and spark wildly.

“Jolt!” he cried in exultant relief.

The crackling sphere of light whirled around in front of his palms then split into five separated streams of energy. The sounds of static electricity popping and crackling loudly could be heard from his hands just before tiny bolts of black lightning arced visibly from the space just beyond the tips of his fingers.

"It was the best I could do, and all it did was that?" asked Scott.

He shook his head for a moment as he made an attempt to fight back the wave of weakness that threatened to overwhelm him. “I wonder if everyone has the same problem?” he asked after a moment.

As soon as the words were ushered into the empty air, his eyebrows pressed together and he made an annoyed sound. Why should he give a damn how hard other people had it? They certainly did not give a damn about his problems, that much had been made clear over the course of the last ten years.

His dislike for the mass of useless flesh that was humanity led him to hold out on sleep. Once he discovered that the dream was not just something that he experienced, but something that all people had experienced, he knew that he needed to prepare. While his first hours were spent on trying to find answers by wandering around town, the remainder were spent on preparation for the future.

During the last three days, the Internet had been alive with people posting information about the dream world. Until this morning most of it revolved around statistical information and stats for starting equipment.

Most of what he found in that regard seemed reliable based on his own knowledge. However, once the dream went live new information became available. The people who visited the dream world began to learn about its wonders and secrets.

A great deal of the information that he located proved to be inconsistent. However, everything that he read on the subject seemed to be in agreeance on two topics. The dream felt perfectly real, and time seemed to pass at a different rate of speed within the dream when compared to the real world. Much like a dream in the past might feel like minutes or even hours had passed, life in the dream world seemed to flow at a different rate that in the waking world.

Beyond those two universally agreed upon topics, no one knew much about the alternate reality behind their eyelids. It seemed that everyone shared the same dream world, but also started out in different locations. There was some consideration made regarding the possibility that the psyche of the dreamer determined where their dream life began. That possibility was considered conjecture at best currently, but it was something that many believed to be true.

“I’m a little behind, but I can’t help that.” After awakening from the first dream, he'd spent a tense night and quiet day within the confines of his home. Save for the sleep he'd gotten that night he'd stayed awake until now.

At first, he remained awake because he was not tired. Once he learned that the dream was real and that everyone underwent a similar experience, he forced himself to remain awake to learn as much as possible before entering that realm.

The end result was that he had put off his personal exploration for quite a while compared to others. Yet, he did not mind that in the slightest. He had also learned of a few of the pitfalls of the dream world that he might be able to avoid.

Curious and calculating eyes scanned the area, but they saw only endless grassland. While he learned of some of the dangers of the dream world, he had not gained much information regarding its topography. It was disconcerting. Where should he go? What should he do first? There was no handy map screen to use in the manner of a true game.

A moment of his precious dream time was spent in quiet contemplation. In the end, he made the only logical choice. “One direction is as good as another, I suppose.”

He decided to walk forward. If nothing else, moving forward meant that he was going somewhere. Training his magical abilities would need to wait until he was somewhere that he could do so without killing himself. That meant access to food, shelter, and a safe point to awaken in the real world.

The humming drone of insects combined with the blistering heat of day to cause him no end of difficulty. Those difficulties further merged with the all-consuming visual of the unending grass in a dedicated effort to drain his reserves. After a while, his every step became an exercise in stubbornness. He had to move forward or he would never leave the grassland, moving forward was the only way to live his new life.

A shuffling sound broke the monotony of his travels. Intrigued by the change, Scott turned his head toward its origin. The grass nearby began to sway and shake in a way that suggested that a small animal currently made an attempt to pass through it with only a modicum of stealth.

Nerves on edge, he whipped out his sword and took up a basic fighting stance. One foot to the fore, the other back and turned lightly to the side. He brandished his shiny reddish-pink blade at the grass briefly then held it before him in a double-handed grip. Suddenly, the ephemeral background music changed to an eighties style synth-guitar track.

“What the...?” he asked in surprise. He approved of the thematic change, but it had certainly been unexpected. The grass parted and a tiny bulbous creature emerged. Above its head a name and a level were shown clearly.

Screaming Onion

Level 1

The tiny creature looked exactly like an onion save for the fact that its roots had grown in the shape of little feet. The orange skinned creature hopped on one root foot and then the other. The sword-wielding man stared at it for a moment. What was with the ridiculous little thing?

Scott tilted his head to the side and considered what he should do. Was it dangerous? It was an onion! His internal monologue was answered when the onion bulb's front half split open and it screamed out, “Cry for me!”

He staggered back quickly as a strange power overcame him. He felt a wave of weakness overtake him. His vision became blurred, as his eyes watered. Soon he wept openly.

Keenly aware of the fact that he could not see clearly enough to attack the annoying little overly mobile food source, Scott attempted to back away. It was nigh-impossible to see properly through the tears and the pain in his eyes.

The onion screamed once again. It was a piercing cry similar to a tantrum that a smile child might throw if they were denied something they desperately wanted. The annoying little beast hurled its tiny body upward toward him with great force, and impacted powerfully against his armor. Scott was knocked back several steps, but he managed to maintain his footing.

Scott's reddish-pink blade lashed out wildly several times in rapid succession. Most of his desperate attacks missed their intended target, but the final strike managed to catch the little screaming bastard and left a shallow cut.

Despite the shallow nature of the cut, the orange skin of the screaming beast was torn free. The sweet white innards were revealed. The onion cried out in exquisite anguish as its juices ran freely from its shallow wound. By way of some wild onion instinct, the creature hurled itself forward in a desperate bid to end the battle and acquire its dinner. This time it managed to knock Scott to the ground.

The downed fighter flailed around on the ground briefly while he tried to right himself. Thanks to his wild flailing motions, he was able to keep the beast at bay for a time. It was long enough for him to crawl back to his hands and knees. His sword lashed out again while remaining on all fours. He refused to be killed by a damned hamburger accessory!

Desperate in its motions, but accurate in its direction, Scott's strike tore deeply into the tiny little onion. The wee beast unleashed a final blood-curdling scream then fell to the ground. Its sweet, yet pungent and spicy, life fluids dribbled freely from its terrible wounds. Tearful eyes became even more so as the gaseous vapors of the deceased onion intensified the tear-inducing effect.

“Seriously? Damn this vegetable...” Onions were vegetables, right? He was pretty sure they were both a bulbous root and a vegetable. Did it matter? Either way, the Screaming Onion had its own peculiar and thoroughly annoying defense mechanism.

Several minutes passed as he wept. The biological mechanism was both a powerful attack and a potent defense. He was lucky that the screaming bastard had been alone. If it were part of a pack, he would have been in serious trouble. Time passed and the effect eventually began to wear off. Not long after that, he was able to see clearly once more.

“Man that sucked,” said Scott after taking a deep calming breath. The onion was not strong at all, but its special attack was a different story.

The mighty onion slayer looked to his fallen prey. Somehow, the little thing was neatly bisected. It made no sense. His attacks could not have held that level of accuracy. After a moment of confused reflection, he chose to ignore the discrepancy and searched the corpse.

“What’s this?” He found a tiny chunk of green material. “Some sort of gemstone?”

It was a small green rock about the size of his pinky fingernail. A bright green stone, it shimmered softly in the light and drew his gaze in an enticing manner. Scott gazed upon his find with curious and critical eyes. Was it money? Was it some sort of gemstone? He momentarily wondered if it was the onion's feces. While he pondered the possibilities, the music that played in the background returned to the grassland traveling tune from before the battle.

Scott picked the onion's remains up by its little root feet then nearly dropped it when several tidbits of information appeared next to it in the air.

Screaming Onion

Class: F

Quality: Low

Nutrition Value:

Restores [1] life force per [4] minutes for [30] total minutes.

“Food ingredient? Someone would eat this thing?” Well, it was an onion. He'd never eaten anything that was capable of speech before, but he saw no reason to waste food. He opened the bag tied at his waist then placed the onion pieces and the little green stone inside. “I’ll hold onto them for a while.”

Onion firmly secured inside his bag, he considered what to do next. A thought occurred to him. He slowly and deliberately blinked his eyes in order to clear the last of the tears away, and then chose to check his status. He needed to know how much damage he'd taken.

STATUS [Uninjured]

Name: Scott Logan

Dream Form: Blackthorne

Level: 1

Ability Points: 0

Talent Points: 0

Skill Points: 0

Life Force: 10/18

Armor Class: 3

Strength: 13

[+1]

Agility: 12[10]

[+0]

Vigor: 16

[+3]

Intellect: 14

[+4]

Charisma: 16

[+5]

Luck: 10

[+0]

“Nearly half gone already... Jolt took six points with my failure. So that little bastard robbed me of two life force points,” said Scott.

He eyed his information for a moment. “I wonder what it will take to gain a level...”

There were a lot of unanswered questions. The first dream had operated on something like a tutorial basis for everyone, but the information provided was minimal at best. It was similar to the game-like status interface in this world in that regard. He knew how to view his status and how to activate his skills and spells. Other than that, he really did not know much about the place.

The fact that he was half-dead already was disconcerting. What could he do, though? It took a moment for him to realize that he did have one option. He took out a piece of the screaming onion and stared at it once more. “Should I...?”

He tore the orange skin of the bisected beast away then took an experimental bite. He cringed and nearly spit it out, but he managed to swallow the thing down. “Yeah, it’s an onion alright.”

The onion had a strong taste and a pungent aroma. Never before had he tasted an onion that was this spicy, yet robust in its earthy flavor.

Curious, he checked his stats. Nothing had changed. He was forced to eat more of his recent kill in order to try and keep his energy up. Scott ended up eating the entire onion before he noticed an actual effect.

“My life force increased by one point... So, it was true. Eating food was the easiest way to regain health,” said Scott. Despite the name, he considered life force to be something akin to health or hit points. It simply worked better in his mind.

One thing he knew about this world. Innate life force regeneration was supposed to take a long time if he did not eat something, sleep somewhere considered safe, or use some sort of restorative capacity like a potion or spell.

After waiting for what seemed to be an eternity, he saw his health improve by another point. He rubbed his chin for a moment then sheathed his sword. It was time to get going. The effects of the screaming onion would work regardless of whether he stood in one spot or traveled onward.

He had no way of knowing whether he would find civilization, but he knew that it existed. Some people had been lucky enough to arrive near a town as their initial location.

Time passed as he walked. Onions began to appear more frequently. Unlike before, however, he attacked them immediately and with absolute aggression. They rarely found the chance to scream before he finished them off. Scott slew over a dozen of them before he found something that made his eyes widen with joy.

Eyes wide, and a slight smile upon his lips, he ran toward the road that rose up before him. The appearance of that road meant that civilization was within his grasp. It would not matter which direction he traveled. Eventually, he would find something as long as he followed the roadway that was neatly laid out before him.