16 March 2025- Saturday - Frederick, Maryland - 7:03 AM
The initial shock of the status panel lingered, an undercurrent beneath Valerian's thoughts. He stared at the cascade of blue data, the implications of it all slowly sinking in. A real empire? His empire? Trapped inside him? It felt less like a destiny and more like the plot of a particularly convoluted sci-fi anime Valerian had streamed last Tuesday. Yet, beneath the lingering disbelief, a sharp, undeniable surge of excitement coursed through him. Whatever those things in the sky were, whatever cosmic disaster had landed in his lap, this... this was his chance. 'To make sure I'm ready to face whatever comes my way,' he thought, the experience of a thousand gaming campaigns in his mind.
Blue: Initiative detected. Good. We were beginning to calibrate for optimal vegetative function. However, 'facing' cosmic threats, Impirator, is generally considered sub-optimal. Try 'subjugate'. Or, at your current metrics, perhaps just 'avoid annihilation'.
Valerian dragged a hand down his face, the cold reality pressing in. Blue's casual dismissal stung slightly, but it didn't matter. Not with the memory of those silent shapes hanging in the sky. "You definitely know what those things are, right?" Valerian cut to the chase. "Those UAPs?"
Blue: Probes. Yes. And you do understand the implications of hostile, deep-space probes appearing above a planet, yes?
Valerian sighed as he sat back, If this was real...then he didn’t have the luxury of disbelief. Not with entities capable of deploying interstellar probes. He needed information, and more importantly, he needed power. He had to quickly sync with the system and access the [Fleet Manager] and [Empire Command] modules. As much as he wanted to sit down and dissect the mechanics behind the attributes and traits like a new game manual, there was no time for leisurely theory-crafting. The tutorial was over.
He forced himself to focus, mentally navigating back to the [System Functions] menu. His gaze fell on [Shop]. Resources. That's where you start in any strategy game. He tapped [Shop], heart racing with a different kind of anticipation now – the primal gamer urge to acquire loot.
The interface disintegrated into a cascade of shimmering blue particles before reforming into a crisp display. Valerian leaned forward—and blinked.
System Points (SP): 0
[System Information: Current SP: 0. Reflecting the Impirator's present resource command index. Correlates accurately with detected material wealth index of 'impoverished student'. Room for significant 'improvement'.]
[Consumables]?[Equipment]?[Cognitive Skill Encoders]
Valerian leaned forward.
He opened [Consumables], and a crisp table slid into view:
Valerian's grin faded into a wry smile. Guess he was window shopping...for now.
A full suite of Tier 0 consumables unfolded in a shimmering table. At the low end of the price were the basics—Health Capsules and Catalyst Vials, each costing 10 SP for a quick 30 HP or 20% CAT refill. But Valerian's gaze snagged on the real treasures: stat-boosting serums.
Five different serums and one...crystal, each limited to five uses, offered permanent +2 boosts to Strength, Agility, Constitution, Reflexes, Perception—and one unfamiliar name: Quantis Affinity. Whatever that was. Not everything from the game had carried over; some things had changed, or worse, been added. The price? A steep 300 SP each. And then there were the Quantis Crystals—mysterious, glittering, and ludicrously expensive. 2,000 SP for a +2 boost to Quantis Affinity. 'I wonder that it is...'
'And that's just consumables. There's gear, skills... a whole cosmic economy I'm at the absolute bottom of.'
'Ugh, forget it. We can figure out the rest as we go, this...all this is already overwhelming.' Valerian shelved his questions, opting to ask Blue later...who has been silent. Hopefully it stays that—'
Blue: I won't be so easily forgotten. Now, will you continue moaning about how broke you are or work for it!? how you ask!? MISSIONS!, Isn't that exciting!?
Valerian groaned, "God, how do you still manage to sound annoying without being able to speak?"
Blue: Wait until I get my voice module upgrade (>'-'<)
Valerian shuddered and decided to move on to missions. Blue was right, he needed to earn some points, and quickly find out why an electric shock had awakened a sarcastic system. With a mental command, the holographic display shifted back to the status page, and he quickly tapped on the Missions tab.
The blue light reconfigured again, the Status page interface dissolving into shimmering motes before snapping into a new layout. This one felt more structured, less like a store and more like... well, a quest log. A table appeared, stark and functional, against the swirling blue backdrop.
[Missions]
System Information: Missions are used to earn system points and increase sync rate. They are also separated into tiers to indicate difficulty and worth, Tier 0-5. They are also further separated into Daily Missions and Critical Missions. As of now you are limited to daily missions until you achieve 5% sync rate with the system. Note that daily missions have no penalty. Happy earning.
Valerian scanned the headers. Most were self-explanatory, standard RPG stuff. Mission Type was obvious – Daily or Critical. Title and Description were clear. Reward was SP, which he now knew he desperately needed. Duration/Limit seemed like a timer or reset. Tier... well, Dailies were Tier 0 here, but Criticals were locked, still tiers applied to them. And clearly they were worth more.
And Sync Rate? This seems to be his ultimate connection with the system...or Blue. It had a percentage listed next to it for each Daily. Why were the Critical Missions locked behind a 5% Sync Rate? That felt like a major gating mechanism.
Before he could formulate a question, Blue appeared at the bottom of the interface, he could have sworn he heard a please tone despite it being text form.
Blue: Ah, the mission parameters. Your primary directive interface. Think of it as... your to-do list, curated by the universe's most advanced organizational AI. Namely, me.
ssd
Valerian resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Curated by a ego tripping AI, maybe. He focused on the table. "Okay, so 'Daily' missions... they reset? Like daily quests?" Valerian wondered if he could even do this, I mean sure he may have upgraded...'strength' but his stamina.
Blue’s text flared briefly, punctuation appearing with deliberate, almost performative, emphasi
Blue: 'Daily', you ask?! With a Perception of fifteen, you can see the literal timer and the word 'Daily' right there, Impirator! YES, they reset! Do you honestly believe this... physical travesty corrects itself without relentless, repeatable effort?! Strength three, Reflexes zero – this requires constant, daily attention! Now, stop fixating on your lamentable 'stamina' – Constitution ten gives you precisely enough resilience to merely attempt the protocol! Less woolgathering, more action! Chop chop!
Valerian slumped back, the weight of the situation, Blue's words, and the sheer physical impossibility of the list pressing down on him. "Great. Just... fantastic. Daily torture, curated by a digital sadist. This is already exhausting just looking at it."
Blue’s text remained, a stark, unyielding blue against the swirling interface, its tone shifting from sharp exasperation back to a more measured, yet still utterly dismissive, analysis.
Blue: 'Torture'? A rather dramatic assessment for baseline physical conditioning. Flattering, but inaccurate. This is merely the 'Emergency Rehabilitation Protocol' operating precisely as designed for an entity currently functioning at approximately 0.0001% of optimal capacity. 'Exhausting to look at'? Your physical stats, I regret to inform you, concur. However, gazing upon a list of required actions yields precisely zero System Points and zero Sync Rate. Those... objects in the sky, Impirator? The ones that prompted this entire rather inconvenient integration? They are not 'exhausting to look at'; they are existential threats that demand a response beyond dramatic sighs and complaints about digital sadism. This isn't torture, Valerian. This is leverage. Your opportunity. Your chance to stop being a liability and start becoming... relevant. Now, are you going to expend cognitive energy complaining about the tutorial, or are you going to clear the first objective and begin accumulating the necessary resources?
The familiar, biting logic of Blue's words cut through Valerian's momentary self-pity. He looked at the mission list again. The numbers were daunting, yes, a stark reminder of his physical state. But Blue was right. Gazing did nothing. Complaining less than nothing.
He remembered the chilling, silent presence of the probes hanging in the dawn sky. The surge of fear, quickly followed by that inexplicable flicker of excitement, the thought that this was his chance. He had faced impossible odds before, theory-crafted complex strategies against overwhelming enemy fleets, spent countless hours grinding for resources and unlocking powerful abilities in countless gaming campaigns. This wasn't fundamentally different; the stakes were just terrifyingly, exhilaratingly real.
This was the initial grind. The low-level quests you had to power through to unlock the good stuff. The path to SP, to increasing Sync Rate, to breaking the locks on the [Fleet Manager] and [Empire Command] modules. Those weren't just game functions anymore; they were the tools he would need to face whatever was coming.
The feeling of being overwhelmed began to recede, replaced by a familiar, cold determination. He looked at the first mission: Push Ups, 0/200, Reward 10 SP, 0.25 Sync. It wasn't a death sentence; it was a starting point. A painfully simple, yet absolutely essential, first step on a very unexpected, very real quest line. The tutorial was definitely over, and the grind had officially begun. He took a deep breath, the aches from the hospital still present, but somehow less important now. He could do this. He had to do this.