The character creation menu turned out to be less of a menu and more of an art session as I found I could sculpt my features freely, or randomize it entirely. I chose to take my time creating the face I would wear for the foreseeable future, the appearance of which would determine if my first impression was seen as sleazy, menacing, helpful, or some other way. Since helping others was my one and only goal I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

I changed the skin tone to be a bit more tan so I wouldn't appear so ghost-like, my dark brown hair that was shaved constantly to not be recognized becoming so long that it came down to the back of my neck, also changing to be messier around the front of my face. This caused my hair to slightly obscure my eyes as they changed color from a rather piercing hazel to a plainer and more anonymous brown. My face was shifted again and again until I looked like a tech guy from a heist movie, which meant I looked a bit nerdy even as I trimmed down my beard a fair bit. As for the rest of me, I toned down my musculature which had become surprisingly defined by all the exercise I had done as of late. Overall I was as anonymous as I wanted to become, if a little bit dirty.

Since I would be eventually acting as a white knight of sorts, I added a single miniscule scar across my right eyebrow for flair. I didn't want to stand out too much in the future, but I definitely wanted to be able to push myself to do things I wouldn't normally attempt.

The clothes I wore consisted of a long sleeve grey shirt made from what felt like cheap cotton, while bright orange pants made from a wool that felt like sandpaper covered my legs, though my feet were totally defenseless against the rather chilly floor.

I confirmed that I had finished creating my character's appearance and not even ten seconds later an armored hand rapped against the bars to my cell. Turning to face the noise I saw what I assumed to be an NPC wearing full black body armor, a rifle of some sort in his hands.

His armor was a black collection of various thick metal plates, seemingly fused onto a darkly colored under layer. The helmet was all rounded edges covering everything except for the mouth and chin, a green light glowing in the center of what was the faceplate. The rifle looked as though it had been stamped out of an assembly line and then worked on for a period of time, an angular frame filed down while neon green lights ran along the top and bottom of the gun barrel, wires lining both sides and leading back to the magazine well, where what I can only assume was a power brick rested in place of an actual magazine, a bright blue light shining at the bottom. I could only guess that it was an energy based weapon of some sort, though I couldn't even begin to theorize how it worked.

I was still admiring the weapon when he barked out a question, his voice far deeper than I thought any human could go. "Prisoner number eight-three-six-four-two, what is your given name?" The moment he finished speaking another prompt like before appeared in front of me, along with a holographic keyboard.

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What is your name?

______x

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Changing my name once wasn't too hard. The worst part of it was just coming up with something decent.

"Nicholas." I typed in the name as it left my mouth, responding to both the prompt and the question with little more than a whisper. Either the guard could read lips, or the game could, because this was enough for things to keep moving.

"Prisoner number eight-three-six-four-two, what is your chosen alias, if you have one?" The keyboard remained even as the prompt shifted.

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What is the alias you will be known by?

_______x

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Thinking of something like this took a bit more time, as I always preferred unique names when playing a game. Eventually I just settled on something a little different. "Let's go with Dust." I typed the alias in as I spoke, and the moment I pressed 'enter' a secondary prompt came up, saying that name had already been taken. I tried another inconspicuous name. Taken. I tried another. Also taken. I grumbled a bit as I started trying to think of something that wasn't taken. It took some pondering, but the name that I came up with that worked was something almost nobody would know unless they had played in my very first Dungeons and Dragons game, which hadn't amounted to much.

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You have chosen to be known as "Keldath"

Is this correct?

Yes/No

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I confirmed my selection and the guard immediately let out another command. "Turn to face the mirror." I did so and noticed another prompt appear, listing off my identification number and a list of crimes in bright red text.

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Why were you incarcerated?

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Glancing over the list of crimes, I stopped at murder, unable to look away. I'd already killed more than once already, the word just bringing the memories back. Corpses lying broken and bloody on the ground, sweat dripping into my eyes as I dug up the earth for a shallow grave, the feeling of blood washing off my hands into the sink. When I came back to myself I was just staring down at my hands as if they were still caked with gore, my breathing shaky. It took several moments to steady myself, deep breaths and trying to think of something better. I looked at the others, not hesitating to choose something a bit more simple such as theft.

As my selection was made, I heard a heavy clunk as my cell door unlocked. "Follow me. If I believe you are attempting to escape, you will be shot." The guard had already stepped away from the door as it began sliding open automatically. I didn't bother arguing since this was clearly the tutorial, falling into step behind him without a word.

As we walked through the prison block, I noticed other players in the middle of creating their characters, some still sculpting while others answered questions from unmoving NPC guards of various sizes.

I nearly bumped into my escort as we reached a heavily reinforced door in the shape of a hexagon, a thick glass window just small enough in width that a body wouldn't fit through showing nothing beyond. My escort nodded once to one of two guards standing at attention who responded with a nod of their own, turned around, and slid a keycard through a scanner.

The door slid downward until the passage was clear, revealing a massive room with various ramps leading down into the center where dozens of other people milled about, dressed in the same prisoner garb that I currently had, guards lining the walls. I couldn't tell where the lights were as I walked in, though everything was illuminated well enough.

On the furthest wall from where I came in was a gargantuan projection screen that currently showed nothing but a blank white background with the words 'An announcement will begin shortly' in big block lettering.

Before I could finish taking it all in I was roughly pulled forward as my escort grabbed my arm and jerked me further into the room, essentially throwing me past a yellow caution line into a small group of other players, causing one of them to stumble a bit as I fell to the ground.

"Hey, watch it!" The player who stumbled yelled as I stood up, before they got right up in my face. "Look where you're going next time, or I'll lay you out on the steel, got it?" While normally I would try to stay out of the way of others, I had done a little mental preparation for a moment just like this one. I uppercut the guy right in his big square jaw, believing this to be the best course of action to keep myself safe. He wouldn't feel much pain even though his head was currently snapping back due to the sheer force of the punch, as the pain setting was capped at twenty percent, though it was only five percent by default.

He swore repeatedly as he stumbled back again from the blow. Before he could come back at me with an attack of his own I was hit by what I could only guess was a taser to the back, and then dragged by my previous escort to a holding area off to the side where other players were, unbound and bound alike.

A set of electronic handcuffs were used to bind my arms together, the whole situation feeling like I was in time-out back in elementary school, even with the two armed guards monitoring us.

Nobody else seemed interested in interacting with each other, so I just leaned back against the wall, closed my eyes, and waited for something to happen while drumming my hands against my legs, listening to a song only I could hear, trying to calm my heartrate which had been beating a bit harder due to the altercation.

I was almost lost in the music when a voice boomed out from a sound system I couldn't find. I opened my eyes and saw that the projection screen had changed to show a man standing in front of a sterile metal table, a fairly basic looking handgun, first aid kit, and a combat knife all laid out in front of him. He was this grizzled looking NPC with short black hair, a trimmed beard, and a nasty looking scar across his right eye. "Greetings outcasts. I'm your warden, and also the one charged with showing you hopeless wretches how to live longer than a day outside our fair ocean nation." His voice was deep like the guards, but definitely seemed much more human.

He picked up the gun that looked like it had been cut from two solid blocks of metal, all filed edges and basic parts put together in the vague shape of a firearm. "I imagine you bunch of gutter punks know what this is, but in case you don't; this is a gun. You'll be expected to find and use various types of these to protect yourselves from environmental hazards commonly found on the mainland." He racked the slide and pointed to the right as the camera panned over, showing two separate humanoid shaped targets. One was unarmored while the other had metal plates worn over various parts of the body.

"You'll find that those with body armor live longer than those without it. You may even see some armor with built in barrier capabilities, though I doubt you'll live that long." He fired a shot into each of the targets, leaving a large hole through the unarmored target, while the one with metal plating had a dent where the bullet had impacted.

"Moving on to the weapons you'll likely have when you hit the mainland..." Putting the gun back down on the table as the camera panned back, the warden grabbed the combat knife and held it up for all to see. "You guessed it, you get knives. You stab things with them. Cutting and hacking away at someone will see you dead faster than jumping from a tall building."

He put the knife back down and opened up the medical kit which was little more than a cloth bag with a plus sign on it. Inside were bandages, a needle with a spool of thread, and a bottle of what I guessed was disinfectant.

"This, I don't expect many civilians know how to effectively apply, much less you. It'll cover basic medical services you can provide for yourself out in the field. Apply it in the order of disinfectant, bandages, wait for whatever bleeding to stop, sew it closed, then more bandages." There was no demonstration, just pointing to each individual item as he went on.

"If you want anything better than basic first aid, you'll be scraping together the credits to buy that yourself. The mainland doesn't have enough resources to take care of you unless you prove yourself capable enough to warrant the investment. Or..." The bag was closed and a rectangular object with what looked like an antenna was placed onto the countertop. "The Omni-Fabricator. An item that can make whatever you need so long as you have the blueprint. From ammo, to food, to shelter. You'll need to find the resources to fuel it and you won't find any as good as this one." He put the fabricator down beside everything else.

"Now to move on to what you'll be doing when you get to the mainland. Your objective is to procure resources that will be eventually sent back to Horizon, though some of those will remain in Bastion to keep it operating. Bastion is the only city we have in our possession, so don't lose it. Do well enough and you may even earn a pardon and a ticket back here. Good luck, meatbags." The projection shut off abruptly and the guards began herding all of us into the center of the room.

"Well, isn't he a ray of sunshine." I muttered to myself almost inaudibly as the center of the room began to rise, the ceiling opening up to the night sky. As the platform reached the top, I could see what was most definitely an ocean a few dozen meters away, a massive fence separating us from a row of buildings that reached skyward.

I gave a small 'huh' as I looked around.

An ocean city. Guess it's too much to hope it sinks.