I could feel sand beneath me as I lay flat on my back, the material beneath me coarse and rough, getting everywhere. The sky was no longer dark, clouds racing across a blue sky while the sun shone down, almost blinding in its intensity. Squinting out of reflex I got back to my feet, noting that the beach and docks had been miraculously repaired, though items were still strewn about the area.

Game logic. Right.

With nothing left on me except for the knife I'd kept in a tight fisted grip, I walked around the beach looking for leftover boots and medical kits. Of the ones I found, almost all of them were burned or only partially there. I looked toward the water and thought for a moment. A few minutes later and I was resurfacing with waterlogged boots and a no longer sterile medkit.

I opened up my objectives to check if the quest was still there, and it greeted me with all its savage glory. I mumbled to myself as I trudged toward the city blast door, my new-ish boots sinking into the sand a little. "Killing players for the tutorial quest. Talk about a brutal difficulty. Is this a souls game or something?"

Getting into Bastion didn't take long, with them issuing me a simple civilian level ID card that I had to keep on me as proof of identity. The objective was completed and I found a hundred credits being transferred to my account, something that I assumed was given to all starting players.

The city itself was horrifically crowded at the area I entered through, though not a single person bothered attempting to pick my pocket. I guessed it was because I reeked of poverty. The streets were gridlike and surprisingly easy to traverse, alleys and other shortcuts prevalent throughout. I didn't take a single one as I often saw more than one potential danger loitering nearby, made up of NPCs and players alike.

I had entered on a main road, giving me a perfect view of the massive cube-like structure sitting in the center of the city, rising higher than any other building in sight, made of the same dark metal as the walls.

It took me a solid twenty minutes of walking around to find out where the market was located, and when I finally got there I was stunned by the sheer size of it. It was very much like an open air bazaar, that stretched what could've been an entire park, players and NPCs alike hawking their wares.

The quality of items between the two groups couldn't have been more different, with players selling dingy grey junk items at worst, and crude light grey items at best. The NPCs on the other hand sold everything from white common items and gear to uncommon green gear that ranged from foods to ballistic armor.

Looking through everything I discovered that a common handgun was worth around two hundred credits, to say nothing of the ammo prices, with the armor being similarly expensive. The only things I could afford were basic articles of clothing.

I would've completely ignored those if I hadn't realized just what a mistake that would be. Wearing starter gear outside the city was likely a death sentence from the orange pants alone. It took me only a minute to get a pair of black pants and a black shirt. It wouldn't be great for blending in during the day, but it would certainly do the trick once night fell. Left with eighty credits I found no backpacks or bags of any kind that weren't full of holes or trashed so thoroughly that they were unusable.

I ended up sitting on the edge of a fountain that was only partially functional, water shooting up about a foot into the air before splashing back down in the center. As players and NPCs milled about I began running through every conceivable option I knew of.

"Okay, so here's the deal. Do I have objectives?" I found none, moving on quickly even as I received a sideways glance from an NPC.

"No objectives, no main quest? Probably missed something. Should go to the central building to check later. Other options. Explore the rest of the city? No, not enough credits to get anything or anyone on my side, nor do I have any authority. Need to accomplish something, obtain resources. Materials? No, no, too simple. Not enough reach. Crafting? No, too long to get started, same problem as before. Mercenary work? I could do that, but I'd have to be selective about jobs. I only have a knife, I won't get any work that way. I need a weapon. A gun. Should have kept the rifle from earlier, would've made an excellent starter. No use crying about it. Central building might hold quests, or might be a dead end. I have time, no need to rush things. Keep it in mind. Other options..." As I continued running down the list of things I was considering and rejecting them time and time again, the looks I was getting increased. It was too late, I was already in the zone and I wasn't about to stop.

"Could go out scavenging, since I bought the clothes for it. Need space for storage, but backpacks are all unusable. Can't spend the whole time carrying everything in my arms. Not an option until I can get a pack or a satchel. Perhaps I should go the crafting route to start with. Start with scavenging basic supplies. Maybe make basic armor. Find components by walking around, picking up what I can. Won't be great, but it'd be something. Yes, that's what I'm doing." I stood up upon reaching a decision, realizing that people were giving me a wide berth for some unknown reason. I tilted my head in confusion before shrugging it off. I had work to do.

I ended up experimenting with duct tape and one of the less destroyed backpacks, managing to create something that was at least mostly secure, though I didn't know how long it would last, if at all.

---------------------

Cheap Backpack

"It's a wonder it hasn't fallen apart already, even with all the duct tape."

Light Grey Crude Item

---------------------

With the straps and bottom holding together I began walking around the city. You'd be surprised by what people tend to throw out even when resources are scarce. You'd be more surprised by what someone might deem valuable when they'll pick up just about anything. Cans, cardboard, dirty rugs, bits of sheet metal, and more. Most of it was fairly disgusting, but after wiping it down with an only slightly used rag, some of it was even fairly usable. The fact that I even could use the trash I was collecting to create things was impressive. The cardboard could be used as padding while the sheet metal I found was just enough for an arm guard. Using my knife, I cut some of the rug off and added it on as the foundation. It wouldn't be able to stop a bullet, but it might just make a fatal blow from a bladed or blunt object a survivable one.

----------------------

Junk Arm Guard

"You'd be surprised by what you'll find by dumpster diving."

Grey Junk Item

----------------------

The tin cans I found would work well enough as shoulder guards despite the likelihood that they wouldn't block anything more than a thrown rock, and maybe not even that. Sawing them in half took some time, but bending the edges enough to fit over my shoulders was relatively easy. As I taped them to my shirt I felt like a kid again, as if grabbing any long stick would turn it into a powerful sword. The unused rug was turned into padding for the underside of my boots, and I decided I was as ready as I was going to be for the moment.

It only took another ten minutes to find the exit gate on the east side of the city by following the main roads, and occasionally asking for directions. I could definitely say the NPCs were advanced as they weren't always helpful. Some were enthusiastic, others flippant, while the vast majority simply tried to avoid the dumpster diving hobo of a player.

What I saw at the gate wasn't at all like I expected, and I'd had a lot of unusual events happen in the past. In every online game I'd played with a massive playerbase like Dead on Arrival was gaining, I'd never seen guilds actively block normal players from entering or exiting a general area. Sure, I'd read about guilds having conflict with one another, but this seemed totally different.

I could see players armed with machetes, knives, and various other violent tools, all of them guarding the exit gate and refusing to allow new players through, including those that had already begun to gear up. Nobody was actually fighting though due to the presence of Bastion's guardsmen nearby who were manning the gate itself, a large door made from a solid slab of metal, only occasionally being lifted up by powerful hydraulic arms to let in groups from the outside, all marked by the same symbol the blockading players had on their shoulders, a tattoo of a roaring lion.

This could be a problem.

The guild players were supplemented with plastic junk barriers, and people who patrolled the area, ensuring that nobody would be able to get through. Anyone that tried to force their way through was publicly marked for death. I'd have to do something about that if I wanted any chance at getting outside of the city.

I could've headed through a different gate and taken my chances, but in games such as this to do so meant losing any chance at an early lead I might get by taking a risk. Furthermore, I didn't like the fact that everyone was being kept from actually playing the game. It was a perfect situation to pull a move that would be both heroic to some and villainous to others.

Fortunately I still had a little bit of money left and some time before nightfall. I turned away and began heading back to the market, opening up my menu and searching for anything resembling forums, finding a treasure trove of angry players on the american server.

People from the human faction were complaining and angrily posting about the fact that some of the bigger guilds were actively blocking off every gate except the one to the west, players at the top of the wall watching for those who attempted to get around the blockade. Instead of sharing my own complaints, I posted a single sentence with my alias at the bottom.

---------------------

"They can't stop us all."

-Keldath

---------------------

I found myself laughing as people ridiculed, agreed, or memed my post in equal measure. The chaos wouldn't start immediately, but some overzealous players might begin testing the guilds defenses. I'd just have to give the rest a push.

It wasn't hard buying the things I needed, including rust dust, gasoline, polystyrene, and a few other materials. The beer bottles I found had an added bonus, the cheap swill inside them strong enough to strip the paint from a car. It definitely tasted strong enough to do so, that I was certain of.

I used an extra shirt I had bought for rags, stuffing them into the bottles that were now filled with a mixture of gasoline, polystyrene, and a few other simple ingredients. My credits were all gone, but everything I had now gave me two types of weapons I could use to tear through the initial blockade with no problem at all.

"Through fire and flame..." I muttered to myself as I walked through the streets, bottles sloshing with liquid inside my pack. While none of the guild members were actively engaging in violence, they had later learned they could shove people back, further preventing anyone from going outside.

----------------------

Napalm Molotov

"Some just want to watch the world burn."

Light Grey Crude Consumable

---------------------

---------------------

Thermite

"Sometimes the solution is to burn it all down."

Light Grey Crude Consumable

---------------------

The guilds might not have been willing to commit to violence, but there would always be a few players inclined toward it. All I'd have to do is provide the tools to do so, and my backpack was near bursting with more than enough to do just that.