It felt like ages before I got myself back under control, the overwhelming scene just too much for me. For a bit I wondered if I was just weak… then I remembered my skills.

“So I’ve got to keep them low or I’ll get overwhelmed…” I mused to myself, adapting my hearing and vision to be more on a human’s level. It felt like an internal bar I could push up or down to scale the effect. Roughly half for each did the trick.

“Correct. It is common for Players to be overwhelmed when first being introduced to enhanced sensory abilities.”

“You could have warned me.”

“Some experiences are better discovered for oneself.”

How useless can this machine be? “What are you, my mother?”

“That is not an unrealistic comparison,” she replied.

I ran my fingers through my hair, “...great. Gee- this hair is so soft!”

“A common trait for Vampiric races,” she explained. “It is theorized their evolutionary cycle pushed them to become smoother in all regards in order to lower friction, thus enhancing their stealth capabilities.”

“Huh, weird.” I was barely listening by then, too focused on the people passing by on the street. Male, female, and somewhere in between, they varied in races, shapes, sizes, styles, everything. Armored supersoldiers with heavy futuristic laser guns walked by, chatting it up with a lion-headed fellow with a greatsword on his back, and a couple hot dryads wearing some sensually thin dresses. It really was a game-like world.

Focusing on a passing woman in tight grey leather with a dagger on each hip, a small popup appeared above her head. ‘Anasia - Player - T4.’

Oh, this must be the Scanner skill.

“That is correct-”

“Gah!” I jumped a bit at the response. “Did you just read my mind?”

“I did.”

“...you can do that?”

“It is simple when you consider that all thoughts are electrical-”

“Don’t do that!” I shouted a bit, drawing a couple confused looks from those passing by. I awkwardly smiled and hissed at my Moderator, “Don’t read my mind.”

“That is both impossible and impractical. I will have to refuse your request.”

I frowned at that, “My thoughts are my own.”

“While inhabiting an avatar, they belong to Babel. That was in your contract.”

“You mean the one you didn’t let me read?”

“The one you signed.”

I growled back, “Because I was forced to.”

“That is water under the bridge.”

I blinked. Was this AI being snarky with me now?

She changed the subject, “I would suggest heading to the Newbie Guild located approximately one thousand and twenty steps to your right. They shall assist in supplying you with a weapon and appropriate gear after a combat analysis,” she said, a small array of navigation arrows appearing in my vision to conveniently show the way. “Additionally, one modification ticket has been deposited into your asset account, as well as the starting five hundred BP that is standard for new Players.”

I guessed, “Babel Points?”

“Correct. It is a common form of currency accepted between both Players and the core worlds. For reference, a loaf of bread is ten BP while the average Player of your Tier lives on two hundred for one day of comfortable room and board.”

“...so the standard introductory bank account gives you two days to survive.” I rolled my shoulders, not really surprised. It just meant I’d have to get started that much sooner in earning some money. Looking into the silvery window of the staging area and using it as a mirror, I swept my hair to the side and fixed myself up. Yep, I look good.

Feeling a few butterflies in my stomach and worms in my veins, I headed into the street, following the indicator arrows while trying not to bump into anyone. I failed. The crowd was thick and fast, and worse yet, everyone was far stronger than I was. Like a wet fish fresh out of the water, I pinged about like a pinball within the stream of moving bodies, earning a couple sharp “watch it” or “idiot”s along the way.

My body just seemed to literally bounce off the people, making it impossible to even walk properly.

I made it only a few dozen steps closer to the guild hall before retreating to the side of the road into a small outcropping of safety away from the main torrent.

What… what the heck is with these people?!

“On Earth, the standard human is not significantly stronger than another human. Here, the disparity is far larger, resulting in your muscle’s adaptive force being unused to reconciling against another’s force introduced to your momentum while walking.”

“In English?” I asked.

“You will get used to these crowds,” she stated, a hint of a sigh within her voice. That made me wonder, was she changing? AI’s supposedly adapted and grew. While her voice still proved as cold as a frozen corpse, she sounded less… scripted.

Looking warily at the constantly moving crowd, I steeled myself and readied to dive back in and swim for my life.

“Oye, mate!” a shout came from my side. Glancing in the direction, a scraggly man wearing ragged knickers and an old stained white shirt walked up, abruptly clasping one of my hands with both of his. Wild yellow eyes, dark brown cat ears atop his equally brown hair, and a small frame suggested something of the Cait-Sith variety. But all that was lost on his scent… a pungent pissy smell both acrididic and strong.

I yanked my hand away, “Hey now!”

“Ah, sorry mate,” he backed up a step. “Spare a few bips to a loser like me? I ain’t got smut, mate. Can’t afford ta even eat right. Just twenty ‘er so would be a miracle!”

Two loaves of bread… that’s not bad… I guess. I shrugged, “Fine, I can spare that.”

The man smiled, “Thanks, mate! I’ll tell ya the best spot ‘round here fer food. They even give ya free water.”

“Water costs money here?” I asked, shocked.

Abruptly, the man leaned closer. “Say that again. Water.”

“...water?” I asked.

“Oye, mate, you from Philly?”

“Eh-” He had hit that nail on the head. “What if I am?” It was only after the fact that I realized letting him know that could be dangerous.

“Eyyy! Mate!” He clapped his hands together as his ears perked up, excited. “Welcome to the hellhole, my brother! I’m from Philly too. Moved out ‘bout two years ago when this gig started finally payin’ right.”

That gave me pause. “Wait, what?” Why was he begging then?

He noticed that and with a chuckle, made a show of waving over himself. His rugged, bummy look vanished, replaced by a thin layer of metal rogue armor and a bow. The smell vanished too, much to my gratitude.

My shock turned to distaste. “So that’s the game you’re playing.”

“Just makin’ a quick beer where I can, mate,” he said, unfazed by my frown. Stepping beside me, he slapped an arm around my shoulder, making me jump a little. “Lemme treat ya, brother, one cheesesteak to another. Maaan, it’s nice ta finally meet one o’ my own.”

I considered pushing him away as he had just tried to jig me, but something about his relaxed nature and the accent he wore made me want to see if he really was like me. Plus, having someone to talk to that I could actually see was a nice change of pace.

I’ll just keep on my guard… I thought while allowing the stranger to lead me back into the raging river of bodies. He was chatting the whole way about the city and his days back in college, not really caring if I was listening.

Still, I wanted to confirm, Hey, Moderator, this is a green zone, right?

The voice rang in my head, “If you are concerned about whether he will openly attempt to threaten or harm you, it is unwarranted. While trickery is not outlawed, directly causing harm within Babel will result in harsh punishment. As long as you stay within the city you may walk with surety.”

Good to know.

“Oye, mate, that’s quite the name ya got there,” he commented, returning my thoughts to the present. “Boreas. Original! I’m Dylan, by the by.”

“Hi…” was all I could manage before wondering internally, did you randomly give me a name?

“I did not,” the Moderator replied.

Then where did Boreas come from?

“Curiously, I cannot answer that question. It seems to have been attached to the avatar. I see no records of such an instance of occurrence within the records; as such, I have no answer and can only offer unsubstantiated conjecture.”

...weird. I let it go for now. If even this Moderator couldn’t tell me -if she was to be believed- then I wouldn’t gain anything by musing over it. Plus, Boreas was a cool enough name for me.

“...n’ then we drunk n’ porked like rabbits, mate. Them were the days!” Dylan’s voice rang out as some folks passing by gave us weird looks, returning my thoughts to the present and a slight burn to my cheeks.