Nick, an ordinary guy, was about to die... but instead he found himself in a strange virtual-like world. A constant war rages between eight factions and races. Guess who happens to become a protector to one of them?
Some humans stuck in Equestria are more lucky, some less, but when immediately after the summoning into a brave new world you are sent to death... It is a sad fate, isn't it.
But, even if you happen to survive the massacre, what if your days are literally numbered and you still have to protect the weakest faction in the weird virtual world inhabited by pastel-coloured horses and other creatures while a war rages on?
Some chapters containing NSFW stuff (with sex, yeap) will be marked.
The cool spring morning made me shiver. But I still tried to smile, waving to the kids and, of course, the teacher.
I couldn’t say for sure how many years had passed since I left this orphanage. I couldn’t say these were the best years of my life, but I think it was some pleasant memories that made me come back here now when I was twenty-seven. I hope the money I donated would allow these kids to become more successful than me and not just settle in someone's pockets. Although, I’d hardly be able to check it; my doctor gave me no more than two months, or even less. And judging by how much worse I was getting every day, there’s still a couple of weeks left, I guess.
But I wasn’t afraid of it. I felt guilty, perhaps, for there wouldn’t be anything left after me. Anything or anyone, because in trying to build a career I didn’t think about family.
Hah, but still it wasn’t the time to lose heart. I pulled out my headphones to turn on music, and winced. With a sigh, swallowing another pill, I again tried to smile like I had done before and went to the bus stop.
“Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye,” shouted the soloist from the headphones. Nah, sorry, a bit later. Despite the rather sad words, I completely lost myself to music. This song rather brought back memories of happy student days when everything had seemed achievable and all the world had laid at your feet—go wherever you want!
I got on the bus, backed into a corner and stared out the window. The sun finally peeked out, gleefully shining in the blue sky among small flocks of clouds. The bus drove to a bridge, and I began to watch the ripple of the river beneath. Eh, maybe I should finally go abroad? The sun, the sea, beautiful girls in bathing suits! Sounds like a good idea.
The rising hum of voices around made me take the headphones off.
“Hey, where's he driving? Nut-case!”
“Mum, look, a car!”
Some people took out the phones and started to pick shots. From my seat I couldn’t see what was happening, but before I managed to ask somebody a truck crashed into the side of our bus at full speed.
The power of impact sent both vehicles into the guardrail of the bridge. They plunged into the river.
Water rapidly filled the old bus, hiding the bodies of those passengers who didn’t survive the collision. Everybody who was more or less uninjured jumped up from their seats, panicking and crowding.
“Get the hell out! Through the windows, quickly!” I yelled.
Some people startled from my scream and stopped to shake. Some even followed my order. The bus started sinking and I hurried to break the window. It worked! Now they could get out safely enough, even in spite the fact that the bus began to sink even faster.
I dove and swam into the middle, picking up a crazed man with a damaged leg and his small child. Warning them to hold their breath, I dragged them to the broken window and helped them to float out.
Diving again, I made sure that all the survived passengers got out. But… the window in the driver’s cab was still intact. Was he dead?
I dove closer and found an unconscious girl in the front seat beside the driver, who unsuccessfully tried to get rid of the seat belt. The vehicle had only a tiny air plug left under the ceiling. He gestured me to the glove compartment, the contents of which spilt on the floor. Noticing a shiny knife underwater, I grabbed it and cut the belt. He gestured OK and swam to the exit. But what about the girl? Even if she choked, there was still a chance to resuscitate her. I picked her up and followed to the exit, barely sculling with one hand.
Pain, again! I twisted and reflexively sighed, swallowing water. Started choking. No more strength. Sorry, girl, I hope the others would be able to live for us.
Aliis inserviendo consumor. Giving light to others I burn myself. That was my last thought.
There was a sweet voice. “Trying to understand a stranger... Success. Reconstructing for intuitive understanding. Generating the interface. Interface downloaded. The analysis of the brain is completed.”
What? What the...?
I saw nothing but pitch black. I didn’t feel myself. Suddenly, something like a touch screen appeared in front of my eyes.
Volunteer
Name: Nicolás Grape
Age: 27
Planet: unknown, Segmentum Solar
Species: ???
Then, a window appeared.
Running an automatic scanning of species. Do you want to enter the data manually in order to speed up the process? Y/N.
Hmm. Yes? And why did I feel so unsurprised about where I was?
The parameters of species
Name*: ???
Average height: ???
Average weight: ???
Life expectancy*: ???
And so on. There were hundreds of them! But only two with an asterisk. I typed ‘Human’. As for the age… Why not try ‘1000’?
“Changes saved. Sending the data,” said the same sweet voice.
I felt like I was falling asleep and passed out.
“It hath worked, my friends! Hooray!” someone screamed right before me.
I opened my eyes as wide as I could, barely able to focus on what was happening. Like after a long, deep sleep.
In front of me stood… a bizarre horse-looking creature in a vibrant mantle embroidered with various colourful patterns. Some of the threads even shimmered on sunlight. Impressive look. The creature looked elderly and somewhat manly, and held a staff with graceful curls at the top, framing a large blue crystal.
He shook his long grey beard (was it really a bearded horse?) and, smiling from ear to ear, outreached his hands to me with the clear intention of hugging.
And only now I realized that I was standing stark-naked. With the consideration that jiggling my private parts in front of a stranger wasn’t of decent things, I turned away only to meet hundreds of eyes staring back at me in awe.
One of the creatures—who mostly looked like the old stallion, only younger—raised his hand and shouted in a fit of joy, others followed his example, and here I was, naked, standing in front of the weird crowd screaming with delight, and with a grey-haired horse eager to hug me from behind. Absolutely nothing to panic about.
Despite the fact that almost all the creatures were pastel-coloured anthropoids with horse-like legs and heads and mains and tails, on closer examination they turned out to differ in species. They were clad in leather jackets, greaves, shin boots, bracers and helmets, but at the same time they looked sort of familiar. Well, I was always fond of history and mythology, so I started to guess who was who without problems.
Slim boys and girls with delicate facial features and a long pointed horn clearly resembled unicorns. The others, bulky and rough giants, had the appearance of a destrier, the horse of knights from Middle Ages. Cute skinny girls with large wings behind their shoulder blades and the same, but less cute, guys (or should I call them mares and studs?) looked like pegasi.
There were normal horses as well. Apart from the pastel fur, there weren’t any other strange features. Everybody was armed with simple swords and shields, though it might as well seem to me. Behind them all, I could see structures built in the style similar to medieval Europe.
A small town or village—it was difficult to say from this distance—lay in a small recess between the hills. Yeah, picturesque area to live in. The incredibly blue sky without a cloud, two suns, green grass under hooves... Wait. What the fuck?
I just realized that I looked like one of them.
Sure, I knew stories about travellers through space and time, reincarnation and stuff, but that...
At first thought, I felt normal; not like usual, rather like the earlier version of me which I had been before the disease. My body, quite far from the concept of athletic, was thin and sinewy. A shame I didn’t have time to examine my face.
There had been a change in the crowd’s mood. They quieted down, staring away.
Two pretty half-dressed mares were approaching me, carrying something on a tray.
I tried not to look at their direction. Shaking my body parts in front of such a crowd wouldn’t help me a bit.
The mares came up and knelt down in front of me. Their muzzles were too close to my, uh, pelvis. What was I thinking about...
They took from the tray something like a loincloth made of leather and put it on me. Then they rose and stood on either side of me.
The old stallion walked around and turned to face me, stroking his beard. I noticed he was a unicorn. “Call your name, o ye hero!”
“Nico—”
At this moment, one of the mares broke down and hugged me, causing a cry of surprise and approval.
“So be it. Nico!” the old stallion repeated loudly as he turned to the others. “The Moriturus hath named himself!”
The crowd roared, clapped and whistled. The brave mare, who had already released me, blushed and pressed her hands to her face, saying to herself, “I-I did touch the Moriturus before his death. I did it! Yay!”
Wait, wait.
In Latin, morituri meant ‘those who are about to die’, so then… Hey, was I reborn after death just in order to die? Some kind of poor postponement, I’d say.
Meanwhile, the crowd quieted down again, and now two studs approached me. They handed me a sword and a shield, just the same as the others had.
The old stallion muttered something, his horn glowed and lifted me into the air. A levitation spell or something? It seemed they churned out these so-called Morituri. Yeah. Obviously, there’d be very few locals ready to bear such a proud title.
Having decided that yelling all sorts of lasciviousness and saying everything I thought about this fucking Merlin was meaningless, I just watched what would happen next. I was dragged through the air away from the town, the wizard himself trudged a little behind, and the crowd marched at a distance of about half a kilometre from us.
I soon realized where I was being dragged. Ahead there was a small rocky plain with a couple of stunted trees, in the middle of which a bright dirty-yellow oval hung in the air, shimmering with swirls of light in its centre. Portal, I guess.
The soldiers stopped behind us at the same distance; the wizard stared intensely into the oval. The pause was long. Suddenly there was a sound too familiar and too inappropriate for this environment: a loud shot.
The old stallion's head exploded, spraying his brains and blood all over the place. No longer supported by the spell, I crashed to the ground.
Two roaring buggies with mortars attached to them jumped out from the portal and, with a booming sound, shot at the crowd.
I turned around, watching with horror as mortar shells struck the lined-up ranks of warriors. There was an explosion, followed by painful cries. All the swordsmen rushed in all directions.
The buggies drove off at a remote distance and repeated the volley. At this time, new soldiers spilt out of the portal. To my great surprise, I saw new anthropoids: two-legged dogs and cats resembling the horses in human parts of the body, but with the others dog- and cat-like instead of horse-like. They were dressed in camouflage and armed with automatic rifles, which they immediately used. I mechanically covered myself with my shield, although I understood the futility of this decision. Several bullets went through the shield wood and cracked my chest. I felt a burning pain.
Fatal injury. Healing: -5 years of life.
The bullets came out of my body, and I was back in one piece. But what was that part about life? Seriously, what?
With the understanding that if I could be healed, it was necessary to take up the running, I rushed forward. The defence wouldn’t help me anymore. You couldn’t run away from a bullet, either.
The nearest dog was in a few tens of meters from me. The look of a guy wearing only a loincloth and running towards him clearly shocked the soldier. He stared at me with surprise and fired a burst.
Fatal injury. Healing: -5 years of life.
Lack of manoeuvrability. Activating Enchantment of Acceleration, the Equestrians faction: -10 years of life.
Hey, stop wasting my years! But thanks for that nice feeling of power in my legs. In a few moments I crossed the distance separating me from the dog and swung my sword, chopping the long-eared head.
His comrades saw that they were losing and switched shooting at me. I ran abruptly from side to side, but the fire density was too high. Yeah, yeah, ‘-5,’ I got it.
Lack of survivability. Activating Cyborgization, the Minos faction: -30 years of life.
That’s too much! But I felt like my body was changing, growing out metallic inclusions and wires wrapped in a steel sheath coming from my now-mechanical arms to a new, more bulky torso.
Some of the bullets ricocheted from me; some dug into the flesh and got stuck, stopped by the plates under my skin. I rushed to the nearest gunners and grabbed their heads. My metal fingers easily clenched together, bursting the skulls like overripe fruits.
The remaining gunners began to retreat in panic, sluggishly firing back. The buggies changed position, taking aim at me. I ran forward to confront it, only with a feel of explosions nearby. When I reached one of the cars, I knocked the windshield and pulled out the driver, with the force throwing him to the ground. I leapt to the shooter and sent him flying with a punch of a metal fist. Then I gripped the mortar and tried to hit the second car, but all I received was a message:
Lacking the data to use the Steelbeast Dominion faction weapons.
Her mate’s death didn’t escape the attention of the second driver. She, for it was a grey cat, decided to use hit-and-run tactics and began to ride around the plain as her shooter used the mortar.
Lack of attacking сability. Activating Elemental Magic, the Equestrians faction: -50 years of life.
Suddenly, on some intuitive level, I realized how to do magic. I clenched my teeth—another withdrawal of years I hadn’t even asked about! A roaring fireball ignited above my forehead (what?) and shot at the direction of the annoying machine.
Three armoured vehicles with many soldiers appeared out of the portal. Several missiles whooshed at me at once while the APC themselves shot with large-calibre machine guns.
Lack of protective capability. Activating Psychokinetic Barrier, the Nightmare Court faction: -50 years of life.
Bullets simply fell to the ground, not reaching me. The missiles merely popped like a festive firecracker.
Under the continuing fire, I shot a few more fireballs that burnt large mobs of dogs. The armour of one APC became so white-hot that its crew started jumping out of it like a bunch of cockroaches.
Shield Support: -30 years.
Holy shit, stop it already!
More APCs drove out of the portal, two tanks rolling behind with a loud clang. My shield couldn’t stand double salvo of cannons. ‘-5 years.’
I threw fireballs in armoured vehicles, but the plates covering them seemed to protect the crew inside from the heat. I tried to conjure a lightning bolt—zero effect. To check that lightning worked at all, I flung a chain lightning into a group of soldiers. Crumbled piles of ash were the only thing that’s left.
Shield Support + Magic Support: -100 years.
Okay, that’s bullshit now. Or was using both at one time so hard?
Lack of tactical capability. Activating Mutations, the Hive faction: -70 years of life.
One of my metal arms changed, transforming into a slimy black thing which writhed and squirmed with tentacles, insect legs and other nasty crap. My ‘hand’ opened, revealing a toothy maw. My shoulder inflated and pushed forward a clot; the mouth spat out a huge amount of thick liquid. The biomass flopped on one tank and corroded the armour with incredible speed, forcing the crew to run away in panic. I conjured a lightning bolt so they wouldn't think about it.
My mutated hand as it seemed needed time to create acid, so I had to keep the second tank alone for now.
Shield Support + Magic Support + Interfractional Transformation Support: -250 years.
Err, could I turn something off? Why the fuck did I keep getting it just like that?
I moved forward at speed. I chopped the head of a stocky dog carrying a rocket launcher. I rammed a tall, red-furred cat shooter. I cast fireballs at one of the APCs. I fried a group of machine gunners with a lightning bolt. I beheaded a sniper with a boulder hurled in the air. I spat acid into the second tank. I tore off the arms of a grenade thrower. I froze the cat armed with a shotgun.
Shield Support + Magic Support + Interfractional Transformation Support: -250 years.
Breathing heavily, I remembered that I wasn’t the only one who had come to do fight. I turned around and saw that from a hundred remained, at best, a dozen. They were just helpless...
While I watched, two tractor-trailers left the portal carrying helicopters which had already begun to swing the propellers. I managed to shoot down one with an acid spit when it was on takeoff, but the second had risen into the air and successfully deviated from my fireball. Well, a lightning bolt; a hit! The engine stuttered and began to smoke, but the pilot activated the rotary machine guns and swept over me, shifting the shooting towards the swordsmen.
Apparently, the next flip of years would be my last.
I speeded to the remnants of the hundred that had met me.
Lack of support capabilities. Activating Shield Drone, the Sharpfeathers faction: -70 years of life.
A small winged machine materialized out of blue and lit up with a light blue colour, covering the survivors with an almost invisible field. Machine gun’s bullets flattened as they were blocked in the mid-air and didn't reach their destination. What's the difference between a drone shield and a psychic shield, I wonder? Maybe the latter protected only me?
The helicopter swooped down to the ground, ploughing great furrows in the soil with its blades. It caught a flame and, eventually, exploded.
Looks like there’s no one left. The portal blinked and disappeared.
The scanning of species is completed. Detecting an error in the initial manual input...
The error is detected. The line: >Life expectancy: 1000.
Setting the new value to 70... Done.
Returning body changes... Done.
We apologize for the inconvenience.
The opportunity to continue to protect the Equestrians faction is granted as an apology. Subscription fee: 1 year of life per day.
Thank you!
I was lying on the ground. I felt like I was back in my normal body. I sniffed. The stench of smoke, burnt meat, excrement and blood lingered in the air.
I heard cautious footsteps. Then, quiet voices.
“The Moriturus survived?”
“This can't be happening.”
“Well, there he is, breathing.”
Someone gently dabbed me with a finger.
“Hey!” I gasped in dissatisfaction, causing a storm of exclamations.
The frightened horses fell on their knees, but after noticing that I was simply lying and did nothing, they rose again.
I felt incredibly weak, but finally I sort of got laid on something. Shields, I think. And I was carried in utter silence, a little shaking, so I just passed out in the end.
When I slowly woke up from a dream, lines ran before my eyes:
The beginning of a new day. 1 year of life was charged. Current balance: 42.
Oh, well, it wasn't a bad dream. So I had a little less than a month and a half to live. Ironically, considering the fact it was as much as the doctors promised me. But if medicine couldn’t help me, was it possible that I might somehow delay my death here?
Meanwhile, new lines emerged:
Current distribution of fractions:
1. Unknown faction.
2. Unknown faction.
3. Unknown faction.
4. Unknown faction.
5. Unknown faction.
6. Unknown faction.
7. The Steelbeast Dominion.
8. The Equestrians.
And right after this:
Your faction is falling behind! But don’t despair, all your villages get a basic set of resources.
Morning's spam in my head? Hell yeah.
I growled with displeasure and thought about what my senses felt. Light muted enough so that it didn’t break the sleep, pleasant aromas of homemade food, a soft and warm pillow... Wait. Warm? I moved my hands along its sides and, already with a vague guess, threw my head back a little. A confused mare glanced down at me as my head was resting on her lap.
Charcoal-coloured fur. Neat facial features. A long, slightly curved horn. A beautiful mouth with plush lips and a string of regular snow-white teeth. Large, wide-open blue eyes, with thick lashes and delicate eyebrows. A long straight mane, as far as I could judge from lying position, of raven-black colour.
Embarrassed by my gaze, she twitched her ears and sat up straight. Hmm, now I could only see her quite large breast mounds hidden under a tight blue dress. I decided that it wasn’t very polite, so I looked ahead and saw a table with different meals. There was a variety of fruits both familiar to me, such as apples, and outlandish, such as pale-white spiked balls. There were also herbs, flowers and vegetables (well, I recognized carrots and suggested the rest didn’t differ much from it) and baked poultry on silver plates. Next to the plates bottles with something pink perched up, so I assumed it was an alcoholic drink. Although, being in another world and not knowing the local culture and customs, you could expect anything.
At the table sat a stallion of dirty white colour, obviously past his mid-age and with a little overweight. His mane had a noticeable touch of silver grey, as well as his beard, but it was evident that the stranger kept a stiff upper lip and took care of himself as much as he could; he looked pretty smart in his embroidered shirt with a florid collar unbuttoned and an ornate belt emerging under the cloth. He was surrounded by a plethora of books, quietly smoking a pipe, but instead of the usual tobacco smoke a rather pleasant odour similar to incense lingered in the air. With a broad smile on his muzzle, the stallion took another puff of his pipe.
“The Moriturus, you've come to your senses!” he spoke in a cheerful and joyful voice. “That’s great news for our village! My name is Board Script, I’m the local elder, and I’m ready to help you in every way possible. This beautiful girl who has modestly offered you her knees is my daughter Pitch Pearl.”
She was his daughter? But he didn't look like a unicorn. Though I suppose there was no need to ask that when I just met them. Maybe she was adopted, and I'd only air dirty laundry with my stupid questions. However appealing the communication with the village’s leader while lying on his daughter's lap seemed to me, I knew it was fairly rude. I got up, quietly thanked the mare and sat down at the table. I didn’t even wonder why I no longer wore a loincloth, but a pair of expensive pants and shirt.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr Script. I really appreciate it, but unfortunately, I am de-facto a human and came from another world, if you know what I mean, so let's just say I’d want to smoke out what's going on.”
“Smoke out? Want a smoke?” The elder joyfully handed me his pipe.
I politely declined his offer and clarified the meaning of the word. While I understand their language on an intuitive level and they did mine, some words seemed to be translated in a wrong meaning.
Having understood what it was about, Board Script continued. “Well, that's not a hard question. You see, the procedure of summoning is commonplace to us, so you don't seem very strange, Mr Nico. And those who were summoned transform to look similar to our species. Before that, we seldom got humans though.”
Just to ‘look’? So we, in our bodies, were different after all? I looked closely, but couldn’t find any external differences. Nevertheless, I wished that reduced ‘Nico’ hadn’t stuck to me because of that girl…
While I was thinking, Board Script told me more.
“But the point is that you are the first Moriturus in my memory, in the whole history perhaps, who has survived. Ponies consider it a sign from above, that Celestia had finally heard our prayers and we’ll get ahead!”
The elder firmly slammed his fist onto the table and breathed heavily. He seems like he really cared about it.
“Just don't worry, dad!” Pitch Pearl said anxiously and quickly ran up to him to hug lovingly. While she was moving, I managed to notice the pleasant curves of her body under the dress and a long black tail threaded through a special hole in the back.
The elder caught my gaze and smiled. He gave his daughter a barely noticeable nod as if a signal to something, and she blushed as he blurted out in one breath, “Mr Nico, if you wish to lie down with me, my body is completely at your disposal!”
“Oh, you silly filly, who starts with that? Now, the Moriturus will think that you are offering yourself to all our guests.”
The mare blushed to the ends of her hair and covered her face with palms, ears limp.
I hurried to somehow rectify the situation. “Oh, come on, I didn’t ever think of such a thing! You’ve just offered… it so out of sudden…”
He seemed very surprised. “Out of sudden? A young filly, ripe as a fruit, untouched by anyone—isn't that what a hero can expect as his reward? Perhaps she's not your type? We have a lot of mares here in the village, I can find another one!”
However, his last words were spoken with sadness. Pitch Pearl was about to cry. What had I said wrong this time?
“No, your daughter is just wonderful! I just expected to explore the environment first, so to speak, let alone to arrange a personal life.”
“We hurried things up, didn’t we? Excuse me then, we just don't usually delay it, hehe.”
His wandering eyes seemed sort of strange.
I coughed and tried to get the conversation back on track. “So what about the environment?”
“Oh, yes! To put it short, there are eight fractions isolated from each other. Every five days, portals are opened in a random location linking the territories of the factions, which leads to military clashes and redistribution of resources. Although the very position of portals is accidental, the interaction of factions is all on purpose. Every day the positions in the table of power change, on the basis of which enemies are determined: a weak can attack any stronger while defending only from those who are stronger at one position. The eighth position is to attack all the others, but to be attacked only by the seventh. The seventh can assault all the others, but it is only the sixth and eighth which can push back. The sixth can attack anyone but the eighth. It can be attacked by the eighth, seventh and fifth. And so on.”
I tried to figure it out in my head. Basically, I didn’t have to keep all them in mind yet; what’s clear was that the guys with guns would return on the fifth day.
“I'm sorry, I think I'm not a very good storyteller.” The elder looked worried.
“All’s good. Go on.”
“Our faction’s been at the bottom for years. Sure, we are given an incentive bonus, but we are not developing. The prince is too cowardly, he locked himself in his castle in the capital and surrounded himself with elite fighters while people try to snatch at least some piece of the portal zone!”
Board again slammed the table, and his daughter calmed him down. It’s so lovely.
“The weakest are allowed to summon a Moriturus for defence once a month. This alien sacrifices himself, putting his life on the altar of victory!”
Big words. Disgusting.
Seeing that I'd changed in the expression, Board Script hastily to add, “No, I don’t blame you for that you didn’t die, why! Moreover, you brilliantly won the fight and even saved some of our fighters. I am very grateful to you!”
“Yeah, go on. How do you even win with your swords and shields?”
The elder frowned. “I'm not saying we can win. All hope for the magic of charms and expensive metals, but the capital has them all to itself. Our only mage was killed right before your eyes,” he said with bitterness in his voice. Then, after a short pause, he continued. “We, inhabitants of the frontier, are not much different from Morituri, except that we die in vain.”
I knew this feeling. That burden when other people put their hopes on you, but you can’t do anything because of the circumstances. Looks like things are really fucked up.
“But this time we were lucky!” he exclaimed as he jumped up from the table. “We found a Sprout and were able to save it thanks to you!”
“Um, Sprout?”
“Yes, Sprout!”
“What is it?”
Board Script’s face suddenly changed; he slowly sat back. Rubbing his chin, he thoughtfully said, “Honestly, I don't know. But the Steel Beasts always took our Sprouts, so we had no chance to explore it carefully.”
“Let's see it, then.”
“What, right now?” He seemed he couldn’t believe his ears.
“Why not? We always have time for a snack.
The elder jumped up and rushed out, pulling my sleeve. We got out of the tent—it was a tent, and a very large one—so quickly that I blinked from the bright sunlight. The day was in full swing.
There were many tents around, but now I was wondering where the town that I saw had gone.
As if he realized what I was thinking, the elder said in an apologizing tone, “That town was Marelin’s illusion. Really, we just don't have time to build anything in a place like this.”
So his name really was Merlin—or Mare-lin? I should have participated in a lottery if it was for my luck.
Board Script almost ran and dragged me towards the hills. Nature here was gorgeous, the hillside created something like a natural depression with a plain covered with herbs. Nearby there was a small river and a forest to the right. A little further on the forest lay the rocky terrain.
We reached the middle of the plain, and he showed me something like a metal lever.
Without thinking twice, I jerked it, and the ground trembled. The earth began to crumble under our hooves and the blades of grass were torn off, giving place to concrete plates that appeared from below. Or, a single huge concrete plate in the form of a circle, to be precise. After a few minutes, the tremors stopped as the lever lengthened and grew into a touchpad screen.
Touch with a chip of protector/master.
Um, chip? My right index finger blinked with a light. Was this some sort of visual cue?
There was a tattoo in the form of coat of arm on it: a sword on a shield surrounded by flames. I dabbed my finger at the screen and waited.
Scanning: the Equestrians faction. Constructing a base.
In the blink of an eye, the concrete was replaced by cobblestones. Looking with dumbfounded expression at this, I turned again to the screen which was now in the form of an ancient book.
Start building the base? Y/N.
Yeah, what's there to think.
The list of basic buildings is loaded.
New buildings: Moriturus’ manor, village hall, house, logging hut, farming hut, picking hut, stone masonry workshop, quarry, warehouse, food storage, crystalline mine.
To say that the elder looked gobsmacked was a great understatement. However I, too, was surprised. Not by what was happening but, so to say, by a mismatch of the setting I had got into. All this felt like some kind of an MMO role-playing game where you should assign resources, build your own base, fight up opponents and leave them behind eventually, let alone the wild mingle of fantasy, sci-fi and normal technologies. Sort of a strange choice for post-existence.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed some curious equines made their way from the tents. What else would you expect after such noise!
The closest was Board’s daughter, but even she didn’t dare to approach and go up the platform, but only stood a little further, anxiously fiddling a stray lock of her hair.
“So you've never seen such a thing, Elder?”
“Huh?! Oh… Yes. If I remember it correctly, the capital and several cities are located on the same ground. But I didn't think all they’d started like this.”
I nodded affirmatively and was about to turn back to the panel when, suddenly, he pulled my sleeve.
“Mr Nico, tell me you understand how this works. I'm honestly shocked, but I wouldn't want to lose face in front of the residents, please try!” he whispered fervently.
“No problems. But I want you to carry out my instructions and to answer my questions if any. And, accordingly, I need full cooperation from the residents.”
It was a little unpleasant to say that, but they had to understand who was who. Whatever might be my desire to help, it was me who died every day because of their whim. So it was not a question of kindness, it was a question of survival.
Board was somewhat dumbfounded first, but then bowed sharply and said with hope in his eyes, “Of course, Mr Nico.”
That's nice. I plunged into studying the panel. Pressing the help button, I saw only a couple of lines.
Notes on basic knowledge:
— No workers required.
— No resources required for: Moriturus’ manor, village hall, warehouse, food storage.
— To construct a building, go to the selected construction site and use the local terminal.
Looking closely, I saw that indeed there was just a button ‘Build’ for these buildings. As for the rest, resources and time were indicated. Most of all I was worried about the latter, but as far as I guessed the construction here was accelerated, so I wouldn’t have to wait a few days just to raise a house.
Let us begin, then? I thought we should start with a free warehouse and storage. But what was a ‘local terminal’?
I walked around the platform. Besides the fact that it itself had the form of a circle, there were many circles painted on it at an equal distance, the same size, and arranged like numbers on a clock face. Not much for the originality. But it was for the best.
I approached the nearest circle and began to consider it. And soon I noticed a small press pedal among the pavers which resembled that of the garbage cans. I tried to push it, but it didn't respond. Hmm, yes, if there were people walking, they’d often press these tiles and it would bring nothing good. Let's try the finger trick.
After pressing the chip, a stake similar to the first moved from underground and opened into a book with inscriptions.
Local construction terminal. Available buildings:
It was the same list, save for the huts and quarry. But the workshop was here. Apparently, you had to raise the producing buildings in a different way.
It wasn't the best place for a warehouse, so I tapped ‘Close’, and the panel obediently hid under the ground.
I made my way to the edge of the circle which faced the forest and the highlands. The closer your warehouse is, the faster you get it into the business.
There were a group of small circles located in a similar way to the large ones. Maybe this was where the producing buildings should be? Just enough space for a small hut. All this time, Board funnily followed me like a devoted fan while the number of spectators near Pitch Pearl had increased several times.
Okay, here's the place. According to the proven algorithm, I produced the panel from the ground and clicked on ‘Warehouse’ in the list of buildings.
Please step away from the construction site.
I went outside the circle, after which it whooshed down and re-appeared as a wooden-and-stone frame of a large building. Small black bugs—I can’t put it in other words—began to swarm, crawling on the boards. In an eyeblink, the frame was covered with walls, a roof, windows and a wide door. After a couple of minutes, everything calmed down, and in front of us now was a brand new building.
Construction completed.
You have unread messages. Do you want to read them? Y/N.
That was in my head. Why not open? Nothing bad happened so far.
Your faction is falling behind! But don’t despair, all your villages get a basic set of resources. * 365
The three hundred sixty-five same messages?! Why so and not more?
But then there was a new text:
Do you want to add the resources? Y/N. The messages received more than a year ago are automatically destroyed.
Here's the thing. I agreed.
The warehouse rumbled, but after a moment the noises stopped. The next text appeared.
The warehouse is full. The surplus of resources is placed on the internal storage of the Sprout system.
Build the appropriate storage to access food resource.
“Let’s see what we have there.”
The elder, who was still watching the warehouse with a look of amusement, broke out of his stupor and nodded foolishly.
I came closer to the building and opened the door. It was very neat inside, and stone pallets were laid on the floor to avoid flooding. As for the rest, there were neatly stacked boards of the standardized size. The cut stones were arranged in orderly rows on the other side. On the shelves were laid out all sorts of tools: picks, shovels, hoes, hammers, saws. There were even primitive axes and bows. They, apparently, weren’t considered weapons and were included in the category of tools for hunting/logging.
And most of all that I was interested in was the blue faintly glowing crystals folded neatly in a metal box. Board seemed to be also interested, his eyes lit up.
“Man, that’s a lot of crystalline!” He contentedly clapped his hands.
“What is crystalline?” I asked.
“It is the most common magic mineral. But it doesn’t mean that you can find it everywhere. Mages would tear your hand off if you had crystalline in it!”
But if it was considered a basic resource, was it so valuable then?
Actually, the warehouse still had plenty of room. Soon I found the inside panel and decided to check it.
Warehouse #1. Resources:
Wood: Max.
Stone: Max.
Tools: Max.
Crystalline: 365.
Here’s the answer. A certain place was allocated to each resource. And there was a lot of crystalline only because that it’d been accumulating for the whole year.
I came out of the warehouse and reached the opposite side of the circle close to the forest. I thought that the food would come from different sources, so we’d better had it closer to at least one of them.
Food storage appeared in the same way as the warehouse. And it was arranged like the latter, save that it was smaller and had smaller windows just under the ceiling.
It was pretty cool inside. I saw small blue blotches in the walls, which gave a weak light. Did this crystalline serve as a refrigeration unit? Whatever it might be, this way you could relax and have no need to care about the safety of food.
But the set of basic food was disappointing; there were only fruits. Lots of them, though. With a pang of longing, I remembered my new neighbours’ diet and imagined that fruits, vegetables and—oh god—flowers would be mine’s as well. Did those dogs eat meat or other protein stuff, I wonder?
Board slowly chewed an apple, thriftily inspecting the room and saying something like “Well! Just look at it!”
I came out and went to the centre. If we're gonna build a village hall, it should be here, didn’t it?
This time the frame was very large. In front of it, the clock lit up to indicate time: ‘0: 59.’ I guessed it’d need an hour to complete construction.
There was one thing left. Choosing a place closer to the hills, I ordered a Moriturus’ manor. Its frame was notable, too, but the time limited to thirty minutes.
“What about your people? How much are they?” I asked Board, drawing his attention.
“Hmm, let me guess. Well, twenty-nine if not to count you.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Approaching the circle nearest to the mansion, I chose ‘House’. 50 wood and 50 stone were charged, as well as 10 tools. It was not quite clear where charged resources would go, but we’d figure it out.
Judging by the rumble in the warehouse, our resources had already been replenished. Meanwhile, the house was already built.
The Equestrians faction synergy: +2% (22/100).
So even just constructing something you also got that synergy? Should take this into account whatever it means.
The house turned out to be a two-storey contraption with a nice triangular roof made in the Western style. Even the furniture was in place. There was a common living room, large kitchen with stove and fireplace. The presence of the toilet pleased my inner city resident; that's what I did not expect! It looked more or less civilized, not just a hole in the floor.
In total, there were quite spacious ten rooms—five on the floor. The furniture for each one was simple: wooden bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and a small table with chairs. I hadn’t asked about the families present, but I thought they could figure out how to live together.
Having placed orders for two more houses, I waited for the construction of the mansion. Then I suggested the elder get people to move to the new houses and to gather them in front of the mansion after the arrangement, and I went to my new three-storey building.
The style was the same but with the chicer decor. Living room lined with animal skins, soft and large corner sofa, fireplace. The kitchen was smaller, but it wasn’t designed for ten residents either. On the second floor was a bedroom with a huge double bed.
The second floor also had an office with a large wooden table containing some writing belonging: ink bottles, parchment, feathers. Right there were empty bookcases.
On the ground floor, at the same time, was placed a guest bedroom, the same and simple as in ordinary homes.
On the third floor was a lot of empty rooms, each with a terminal. But they all showed me only ‘Lack of the faction synergy.’ I only had to invent a more efficient way to increase it.
Finally, I went down to the basement. It was quite extensive and carefully made of stone. A soft white glow flowed from under the floor, so no lighting was needed.
The place with a terminal was in the middle, a little raised above the floor. I activated it and saw:
Teleport: no active sigils, no teleportation possible.
Concerning that this Sprout gave a lot of opportunities, it wasn’t surprising that everyone wanted it to themselves.
At the far end of the basement, I saw the floor lined with magical symbols, next to which was also a book-terminal. I dubbed it and shuddered at what I had read.
Moriturus’ life management: the Heart of the Moriturus is required. Perform the installation? Y/N.
