Author Note: This is going to be my first story in awhile. Updates won't be regular and will happen when I have free time to do so.
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A gentle pressure washed over me as I awoke. My eyes opened slowly, weighted with the remnants of deep slumber. Yawning, I expelled the water sitting in my lungs.
Wait, water?
Alarmed, my eyes shot open. I thrashed for a moment until I realized everything was pitch black. And I still wasn't suffocating. Ten seconds passed before the realization sank in: I was at the bottom of the sea. A normal person should be having a meltdown right about now, but strangely, I felt calm once it dawned on me that I wasn't going to drown.
How was I not dying? Was this the afterlife? If so, it was very disappointing.
As if answering my oddly serene existential crisis, a tidal wave of information crashed into my head, as subtle as a tsunami. The information overload nearly caused me to black out as several fields of science and engineering downloaded into my brain.
Images of planes and boats armed with massive guns flashed through my mind, imparting a dreadful understanding I had never asked for. I now possessed the knowledge to construct a B-52 Stratofortress, the premier strategic bomber for a significant portion of the last century.
The bomber's inner workings unfurled in my mind like an ancient scroll, illuminating its secrets. Technical specifications, material costs, and confidential details not available to the public all unfolded in my head.
What the hell was happening?
After a moment spent processing the available information, I 'exited' the blueprint with a mental flex and explored the rest of the info package. The other blueprints manifested as 3D models in my mind's eye.
World War II and Cold War technology lay within easy reach of my probing mental tendrils. However, the newer advancements beyond the sixties remained obscured, shrouded in a gray fog. I attempted to probe one of the obscured images but met resistance, forcing me to abandon the effort.
Determined, I searched for the most inexpensive unit within this strange headspace. After what seemed like an eternity, I discovered it: the ORE-class mining drone. This handy little device served as a gatherer unit, reminiscent of those found in real-time strategy video games. Though it had been a while since I'd touched the genre, the implications were clear.
My body shivered as the existential crisis returned. "Oh shit," I muttered.
I was nothing more than someone's entertainment, a plaything for their amusement. No doubt some twisted individual watched me flail about, munching on popcorn with sadistic glee. Scowling at the inky blackness surrounding me, I resolved that I would not be anyone's pet.
A fleeting thought of suicide crossed my mind, but I dismissed it just as quickly. This was my life, my second chance. I refused to waste it, even if the prospect of dancing to someone else's tune filled me with disdain.
Dark laughter welled up from my chest, unbidden and frothing like a geyser. Falling back onto the sandy seafloor, I clutched my sides. "Ahahaha, I must be losing my mind. How can any of this be real?!"
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Silence greeted me in response. Of course, it couldn't be that easy. With a sigh, I set to work, knowing that moping would not improve my situation. Armed with newfound superpowers, I needed to unravel this mystery before it came back to haunt me.
To center myself, I began meditating. In the process, I discovered my other 'gifts.' A peculiar sonar-like ability allowed me to map out my surroundings, revealing that I was submerged over 4,000 meters beneath the ocean's surface.
By all accounts, the immense pressure should have crushed me into a paste, yet I remained very much alive. Another wave of angst washed over me before I collected myself and focused on identifying my remaining abilities.
Next on the list was Superman-lite powers. My incredible strength and toughness became evident when my fist connected with a boulder, shattering it like delicate porcelain without leaving a scratch on my skin. Not quite what I had anticipated, but certainly preferable to the alternative.
Following that discovery, I stumbled upon a sort of mental command node that led nowhere. It felt like a bundle nestled within my mind, one I could somehow touch without physically touching. This revelation led me to the realization that I possessed the ability to 'spawn' units straight out of an RTS.
Curiosity piqued, I reached out to one of my mental blueprints. "I wonder what would happen if I touched one of these," I mused aloud.
A massive, slimy appendage burst forth from my back, and I let out a startled yelp as it lowered itself before me. Gulping, I stared at the large tentacle, its tip opening to spew a pitch-black sludge.
Instinctively, I knew the sludge served as a spawning pool for my units, a link forming between us. I queued up an ORE drone and watched as the liquid writhed and bubbled.
And watched.
And watched some more.
With a sigh, I plopped down on the sandy floor, my gaze fixed on the lazily churning spawn pool. "Okay, this is boring," I muttered.
Let it be known that observing a spawning pool slowly construct a unit rivaled the excitement of watching paint dry. Prodding my power, I got the sense that I could accelerate the process by dumping resources into the pool.
Neat, if only I had the resources to pull that off...
My eyes scanned the seafloor, spotting some shiny rocks not too far away. I returned my attention to the spawning pool, a thought forming in my mind.
I wonder…
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Raw ore could supplement the spawning timer, it turned out. What would have taken days instead required only thirty minutes.
As my first creation dragged itself into the world for the first time, I held my breath. The creature clawed its way out of the sludge until it presented itself before me, resembling a dark circular orb two meters wide. A trio of fleshy tentacles erupted from its back, their tips tapering to points.
Pride and mild revulsion mingled as I appraised my creation. Did it really need such a creepy appearance? With any luck, I could remedy that later.
Now, a mental link was established between us. Even with my eyes closed, I sensed the drone's exact location. This would prove useful, and I knew I could issue commands remotely as well.
My current priorities were to escape this place and find a suitable spot to construct a base, like any skilled RTS player. Much as I longed to return to civilization, I suspected the ROB who sent me here wouldn't make it so simple. I might not even be on Earth, and if I was, assuming the authorities would welcome me seemed foolish.
Plenty of isekai novels had taught me that the godly entity who transported the poor bastard to another world surely wouldn't allow their entertainment source to lead some dull farmer's life. Seeking help might provide an illusion of safety, but only until the ROB unleashed some fresh hell to drag me back into the grinder.
Plain and simple, I was fucked.
I gazed coldly at the deep abyss before me, planning my future. Though I wouldn't seek out conflict, if it found me, I would end it.
Violently.