He had just finished explaining to his latest defeated opponent that no, he wasn’t using aim-assist hacks, when a new player approached. The tag read [TheGreatest33] in solid orange, marking them as at least a Platinum-ranked player.
"I’ve watched your gas," [TheGreatest33] said. This person’s voice was modulated to sound neutral through the voice filter. "Want to join our group? We’re always looking for talented pilots. With so proper training and better equipnt, you could easily hit Gold within a month."
Neville blinked a few tis before responding. "Maybe so other ti. I’m just here to play for fun."
[TheGreatest33] tilted its head, clearly finding his reply incredulous. But they recovered quickly, maintaining a polite tone. "If you change your mind, you can ssage anyti. We have sponsored equipnt, organized practice sessions, even so small tournant prize pools—"
A notification chid, cutting through [TheGreatest33]’s recruitnt pitch. The friend request from [TheGreatest33] appeared in Neville’s HUD.
Neville promptly declined it. "No, thank you."
"Wait, can’t you even—"
Another chi cut through the conversation, but this one was different.
[ACHIEVENT UNLOCKED: ROOKIE SENSATION]
Win five consecutive matches on your first day
Defeat opponents ranked Silver or higher: 5/5
Reward: Premium cha Customization Pack
Neville’s eyes widened. He stood up abruptly, barely rembering his manners. "Got to go."
Before [TheGreatest33] could respond, Neville initiated the logout from the public waiting area. The space dissolved around him, and he was transferred to his personal ’ho base’ in the ga.
The ho base looked surprisingly detailed as a mini version of a space station hangar. It was a dium-sized room with tal walls, decent lighting, and a cha loading station in the center. There was a circular platform with chanical arms and diagnostic equipnt surrounding it.
The stairs led to what looked like a small apartnt area above the hangar. There were control panels lined up on one wall, displaying various customization and upgrade options.
Of course, everything should be customizable.
Want different wall colors? Buy a paint pack.
Want better lighting?Purchase an upgrade.
Want decorative posters or furniture for the apartnt section?Open your wallet.
Want to customize your cha to certain driving styles?Pay up, there was more in the VIP pack.
What was even more mind-blowing was that you could just create chas and sell them in the ga’s market. People who liked the stats and features could buy it.
What was even crazier was that this cha loading station, or rather this whole personal space, could be expanded.
You could add more rooms to invite other players.
You could expand more cha loading stations to display several chas you own.
If this place was already insane, what more of the ’guild’ that [TheGreatest33] was talking about? It should be much better than this.
But for a poor, free-to-play player like Neville, he didn’t plan to change anything in it.
The default setup was perfectly functional. He would just play until his current cha reached its limits, tinkering here and there to enhance his piloting and tactical skills. After all, as an office worker, he had no actual need to master cha piloting beyond a casual stress reliever.
"FREE PREMIUM Customization Pack?" he said aloud, genuinely surprised.
This was really a godsend reward. Even though Neville had no plans to spend real money on this ga, he still didn’t want his cha to look exactly the sa as every other generic beginner cha. There was sothing disheartening about looking like everyone else, about having zero personal identity in what you own.
[Ooh, I’ve already checked it!]
Shelly squealed in excitent.
[You can practically use everything except for the VIP options. But it’s ONLY usable for ONE cha, and once you hit save, it’ll be the end. BUT you can modify your cha however you want without a ti limit. AND there’s no expiration, so you don’t actually need to do it now.]
Shelly began to read the list of things that he could actually do.
[You can modify your cha’s appearance and color sche. You can also customize weapon loadouts and even add special ability modules. However, the expansion for additional slots was in VIP, so you can’t modify a lot.]
Hundreds of options spread across multiple categories greeted him upon opening the customization interface.
There were paint sches ranging from military camouflage to flashy racing stripes. There were also armor configurations that changed the silhouette without affecting stats. It also displayed weapon systems that altered appearance but kept the sa damage values. There were also additions like exhaust trail effects and energy blade colors.
Neville lost himself in the possibilities. He started playing with the color sche, scrolling through options.
If it were too bright, he would stand out. If it were too dark, he would look like soone trying hard to be edgy. He needed sothing in the middle...
His eyes caught on a particular combination: sleek black armor as the primary color with silver accents highlighting the joints and edges. The silver traced along the limbs like veins, creating an organic flow that contrasted beautifully with the matte black plates.
It reminded him of Lucky’s colors. There was a subtle silver shimr when light caught them at the right angle.
Neville smiled and selected the option.
Next ca the armor configuration. He chose a streamlined profile, sacrificing so of the bulky shoulder plating for a more aerodynamic design. It wouldn’t affect actual performance, but he preferred the look of speed over the look of tankiness.
For the weapons, he customized the lightsaber sword to emit a blue-white blade. The light pulse gun got a subtle silver highlight along the barrel. He added a custom effect to the triple-shot projectile laser missile launcher on his shoulder that made it unfold with a more dramatic chanical sequence.
Finally, he added small costic details: exhaust trails that burned blue-white instead of standard orange, and shield effects that shimred when hit.
Shelly whistled. [Way to go, host!]
"It’s aesthetically pleasing." He said with a smile.
Neville was just adding the finishing touches, like adjusting the exact shade of silver on the joint accents, when a notification appeared:
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
You’ve been playing for 6 hours. We recomnd you log out now as a first-ti user.
Extended sessions may cause neural adaptation lag.
"Hm?"
Neville checked the ti display and nearly had a heart attack. What had felt like maybe two hours in the virtual world had actually been six hours in real ti. Even accounting for the ti dilation effects of the virtual pod, he would still be in it for over two hours.
"Oh no!" Neville imdiately initiated the logout sequence, panic flooding through him. "Lucky still needed to eat! What if sothing happened while I was gone? How could I—"
The virtual world faded smoothly until only darkness remained. Then real sensation returned. He could still feel the cool feeling of the breathable liquid on his body. But now he could hear the gentle hum of the pod’s systems.
The lid opened smoothly with a soft hiss of equalizing pressure. Neville sat up abruptly, expecting to find disaster. Instead, he found Lucky exactly where he had last seen him.
Lucky was coiled on the bed like a massive black-scaled cat, apparently having enjoyed a very satisfying long nap. Its breathing was deep and even, its snake body rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.
Lucky raised his head at the noise of the pod opening, silver eyes blinking sleepily. His tongue flicked out in what might have been a greeting or a complaint about being disturbed.
Neville rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the pod with slightly shaky legs. The nutrient solution had kept his body stable and prevented muscle atrophy, but he still wasn’t used to lying on it for long hours at once. There was a mont of disconnection from his brain and his body that failed to rember that there was gravity.
He padded over to the bed on unsteady feet and reached out to squeeze Lucky’s body gently, checking for any signs of distress or hunger.
Neville pressed his forehead against Lucky’s snout and whined, "I could have been gone for days, and you wouldn’t have noticed, would you? So companion you are."
Lucky’s response was to yawn, displaying an impressive array of fangs that could probably bite through his flesh in one shot. Then it coiled the tip of its tail around Neville’s wrist in a gesture that might have been affectionate or possessive.
[Since you already know how to use it, I’ll go ahead now,] Shelly announced and vanished without waiting for his reply.
Not that Neville would have bothered to reply anyway. He was too busy conducting a thorough check, making sure nothing was amiss, while he was in the pod for a long ti. His light brain showed no urgent ssages from work.
Everything was fine.
Neville let out a his breath and his stomach growled. The nutrient solution could keep one alive, but did nothing for the psychological need to eat real food. He went ahead and filled his and Lucky’s stomach for the day.
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