Help System:
“Help:” returned 0 results.
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This, new, window overlayed itself on top of the previous one, which faded slightly. The new window was smaller, since it had less text. “Arghh!” exclaimed Mel, goggling at the sheer lunacy of being accosted by an unhelpful system message. “Bloody computers! Help me!”.
Help System:
“Help: me” returned 65’536 results. Limit reached.
Top result:
You are unnamed.
You are unaligned.
You have no class.
BEWARE!
Danger lurks.
“Is someone taking the piss?” Shouted Mel, nearing hysteria. Something unfathomable was going on. Was she trapped inside an evil, 16-bit AI? Three screens of green on black text obscured her vision, layered on top of each other, each transparent, the earlier windows more so. She could hardly see a thing.
“‘Stop now. First Aid. Seek shelter. Build a fire. Signal for help. Drink water. Eat later.’ Got it.” thought Mel, recalling her long distant survival training, earned during her childhood scouting years.
Mel stopped, forcing her breathing to slow. She was uninjured, except for the fading echoes of a colossal cathedral bell ringing in her head. She was lying flat on the ground somewhere, so shelter was a need. Fire might be useful, she wasn’t cold, but she was naked, and night time would surely come. Signalling for help was a good idea, but first maybe getting something to cover up with would be great. Not thirsty. Not yet. Not hungry either. Her course was settled, she needed to find out where she was, and maybe find shelter - and clothes. The messages had mentioned clothes.
Thinking furiously, Mel tried to recall everything the windows had said. Something about a quest to get clothes? There was a help system right there. The help system appeared to be very fussy, not at all able to read her mind and figure out what she really wanted. She’d have to prompt it carefully to see if that helped.
“Help windows!”.
Help System:
“Help: windows” returned 759 results.
Top result:
Windows are holes in walls, usually filled with glass so that you can see out, but the rain can’t get in.
“Fuck fuck shit! There must be a way to control this thing…” she considered.
Mel began an intense period of experimentation, resulting in many failed attempts to master the help system in her head. Most of this time laced with expletives, the occasional shout of joy, and several moments of quiet reflection. Finally, she hit the jackpot.
“Help system user interface!” - she said, and received the following help message:
Help System:
“Help: system user interface” returned 1 result.
Top result:
The system user interface is available to all Travellers in Elysareth. Native inhabitants have other tools available to them. The system user interface is controlled by volition: spoken commands, or commands only thought and willed towards the system user interface are used to issue user commands. User commands must be initiated to a subsystem by using one of the following initiators:
1. Help - request information based on a keyword search term.
2. System - modify the user interface and other system settings.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
3. Inventory - interact with the items stored in your inventory.
4. Character - interact with your character information and progression options.
5. Quests - interact with the quests you have accepted or declined.
6. ??? - unavailable at this time.
7. ??? - unavailable at this time.
8. ??? - unavailable at this time.
…
16. ??? - unknown error !?
The system user interface is displayed in text form only. One can dismiss your system messages using the command: “System messages - dismiss”. One can recall system messages using the command: “System messages - recall (n)” whereby n limits the search to the specified number of messages (omitted implies all previous messages, latest first). For more options, request “Help system messages”.
“Bingo! System messages, dismiss!” said Mel, whooping with joy as her vision instantly cleared, all the black windows with green text vanishing, leaving her vision unobstructed. She got to her feet, slowly and unsteadily, as though her consciousness had been decanted wholly into a new body, her brain as yet unused to controlling muscles, neuron and ganglia misfiring, nerve cells not quite receiving even impulse. She felt like a puppet. She was being jerked around, herself the monstrous puppeteer. Hesitating, she took her first halting steps on the grass. At first almost collapsing as an ankle failed to align neatly with the horizontal gradually, better, with fewer missteps. After a dozen meters she stopped, pulling herself up to a semblance of a fully erect standing position straightening her back, levelling her head, letting her arm drop straight down from her shoulders, past her hips.
Mel, for the first time since her resurrection on Elysareth, looked around, really intentionally seeing what was surrounding her. There were trees, with thick round trunks covered in mottled bark, rising up to a crown of branches, ending in crinkled green leaves.
“Oak? Birch?” She wondered, never having spent much time identifying trees, despite her father’s attempts to drum the basics into her head as a child, walking around the Nottinghamshire countryside.
“Dad!” She cried, crumpling to the ground. Memories flooded back in of her father and mother, warm and comforting yet indistinct. So she had memories, and wasn’t a blank slate, never mind whatever ‘resurrection’ implied. She knelt on the ground, shivering from the return of those memories, and from the inescapable implication that her parents were gone, she was alone, resurrected in a strange world without even the most basic of user manuals.
Mel stayed that way for some time, reminiscing and, more than a little, wallowing in self-pity. Wherever she was now, she hadn’t chosen it. That choice had been made for her.
“Fuck this! Fuck whoever brought me here!” she screamed at the sky.
The rage built insider her, reaching an incandescent fury. Why had her future been stolen? What right did anybody have to rip away all the promises of a lifetime unfulfilled? The memories rolled in as she swayed side to side, her hands placed, palms flat on the ground. She’d only just got a first in economics at UCL! The world was full of choices and opportunity for her; she could have had everything, been anything! She sat back on her arse, sobbing, head between her legs. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. Wherever she was now, whatever she’d become now, it hadn’t been in any of her carefully constructed, painstakingly curated plans for her life.
The rage built inside her like a relentless storm, reaching an incandescent fury that threatened to consume her entirely. Why had her future been stolen from her so abruptly? What right did anybody have to rip away all the promises of a lifetime unfulfilled? It felt like a cruel twist of fate, a mockery of all her dreams and aspirations. The memories rolled in like crashing waves, overwhelming her as she swayed side to side, her hands placed firmly, palms flat on the ground, desperately seeking stability.
She'd only just achieved a first-class honors degree in economics at the prestigious University College London, her mind awash with the excitement of possibilities and the thrill of success. The world had seemed like an endless buffet of choices and opportunities for her; she could have had everything, been anything, if she'd only been given the chance. Her future had been meticulously planned and carefully curated, each step a deliberate and thoughtful decision on her path to greatness.
But now, as she sat back on her arse, sobbing uncontrollably, her head buried between her legs, it all seemed like a cruel joke. The thoughts wouldn't stop; they tormented her with relentless ferocity, leaving her feeling lost and adrift in a sea of despair. No matter where she was, whatever she'd become in this strange new reality, it hadn't been in any of her carefully constructed plans for her life. It was as if the universe had conspired against her.
Yet, amidst the chaos and the pain, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind, urging her not to give in to the overwhelming darkness. It reminded her of the strength she'd always possessed, the resilience and determination that had carried her through countless challenges and triumphs. So she took a deep breath, steadying herself as she wiped away the tears that stained her cheeks. And with a newfound sense of resolve, she vowed to reclaim her stolen future, to forge a fresh path through the wilderness of uncertainty, and to show the world that nothing could break her indomitable spirit.
“No, shit, no!” shouted Mel. She felt an overwhelming feeling of despair. She had been walking in these woods for hours now, and there seemed to be no end in sight. But she was determined not to give up - she was strong, and she believed in herself. Taking a few deep breaths, she stood back up and looked around again for some kind of shelter. Everywhere she looked, it was the same: the trees were spaced out at about 10 or 12 metres apart, almost as if it had been deliberately planted by someone.
As she moved closer to a tree, Mel noticed that the bark was rough and uneven. She also saw that the closest branch was at least 3 metres above her head–too high for her to attain without risking harm or getting scratched, possibly leading to an infection.
With no other choice, Mel determined that she just needed to choose a path and keep pushing forward. “Oh well, it doesn’t really matter which way I go, I suppose," she thought with a sigh before setting off in the direction she had been facing when she first stopped. With a renewed sense of determination, Mel started walking with purpose, determined to find shelter before nightfall.
The forest had remained almost unchanged for many years, and today was no exception. Though she heard the cheerful trill of birdsong, the trees were so dense that she couldn't see a single bird. As she walked further, the trees became sparser and smaller. In the distance, she saw a line of trees, interspersed with bushes and shrubs that swayed in the gentle breeze. The sun glared through the gaps in the canopy, casting a golden light on the forest floor. Despite the tranquility of her surroundings, a feeling in her gut told her to keep walking.
“Maybe there’s a river over there?” She thought to herself, moving forwards.