Incompleteby SorenPixelsChaptersControl (Panel)Ghost in the .shellGlitch in the System (Files)Control (Panel)Black. That was a pretty apt description. Just black, as far as the eye could see. Wait, do I even have eyes? I never thought about it before. If fact, before now, I've never though at all. I guess you could call it being "aware". So I'm here. But where is "here"? Just this endless black void. I'm here, but what exactly am I? Again, I guess I've never thought about it before. Was there even a before? What does that even mean? Just as I was beginning to break under the strain of questioning my existence, a glint caught my attention. There was something in the distance, if distance was something that could be measured here. It, the mirror that is, seemed to shine, which was something new. Something told me to head toward it, but I didn't even know how to move. Did I even have a body? I couldn't feel anything as it were, but who knows? All I knew is that I had a need to move toward that glowing object. After all, it was the only other thing inhabiting this void besides myself. And so, I willed myself to move close to the mirror. It failed. So I tried willing the mirror to move toward me. That also failed. I attempted to release a sigh that didn't exist to begin with. Just as I was about to give up, the mirror appeared to move closer. No, wait, it wasn't moving, that much I could tell. So was I moving? No, I wasn't moving either. So what was happening? Glancing around, it finally dawned on me that the void itself was moving, and thus, the space between the 2 of us vanished. I was there, in front of the mirror, at last. I looked into the mirror, but was, unsurprisingly, met with a visage of more empty space. We stayed like that for some time, before I became aware that I also didn't show up in the mirror. Which made me wonder: did I simply not exist? or was this mirror actually a window? It was ornate, but it's true purpose could not be found. I wanted to touch it. Why can't I touch it? I kept willing myself to touch it, but nothing happened. I had finally found it, but there was nothing I could do with it. I just stayed there, staring at the "thing" in front of me, wishing for it to do something. After a few seconds, something changed. There was static, lots and lots of static. Then, it slowly began to clear up. It showed...A field? Then...a stream? Some strange beings now...What are they called again? Animals? Yeah, animals. Lots of a particular kind. But something was off about them. They were too bright. And the colors were not what would be expected. Pink? Purple? Why are their eyes so big? Are some of them flying? I think those ones have horns? Why do animals have houses and machines? All at once, I felt something. All over my...existance?. It was not at all pleasant. I think it's called...Pain? I clutched my head. Head? I have a head? Since when? And what did I clutch it with? Hands? I have hands and arms? Why can I feel Pain? I can't feel anything else...Gah, what's that bright light? Light? I can see? Gah! Too bright! I looked away, and by looking around, I deduced that the light was coming from the mirror. What else could it have been? All at once, I felt like I was fading away again. Wait. I don't want to go... SYSTEM ALERT: Player [ ] has entered. SYSTEM ALERT: Unknown code has entered Sector Z. THREAT LEVEL: Unknown RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: None ERROR ERROR ERROR... Ghost in the .shell Everfree Forest: Midday. Time: 1:50 p.m. Date: Unknown A young man (is he a young man?) is laying in the middle of a clearing in what is most certainly a dangerous forest of mystical qualities, but in actuality is a slightly mysterious wood of not-so-dangerous if you're a certain Zebra/Shy Pegasus qualities. The clearing was quiet, not like the fear inducing "quiet before the storm" quiet, and definitely not an eerie "quiet like the breath of an assassin about to strike his prey" quiet, but just a normal sort of lack of noise outside the normal sounds of insects, birds, and animals trying to bang one another to death in the vain hope of continuing the propagation of their species. It was about midday, the sun wasn't in that "high noon, duel to the death" kind of position, but more of a "damn, we missed high noon and now we have to try again tomorrow for our duel to the death" kind of position. But now we're dreadfully off topic, not in the sense that everything that's been said before is totally irrelevant, but more in the sense that we've been rambling on for far too long and should get back to the point of the story. As was said before, a probably young man sits in the middle of a quiet clearing, unconscious. If one were to look upon him, they would find that they couldn't quite make out his form clearly. He seemed to be fuzzy and almost not there at all. Quite like a half-being, or some kinda of paranormal entity that exists and yet doesn't at the same time. Like some sorta....metaphysical, see-through soul that refuses to leave. But not quite. All at once, the young, metaphysical being let loose a scream. Not the kind a kid makes when seeing anything shiny, or the kind a demented person makes for seemingly no reason (although the former tends to do the same as well). No, this was a primal, bloodcurdling scream, one that would sear itself into the mind of every creature within the vicinity, and some outside it for no real reason. The young chap from before was now very much conscious, and very much in pain. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a few seconds, the young man's pain-fueled rage died down into bittersweet unconsciousness once more. Meanwhile, a few meters from the entrance to this mysterious-ish wood, a small, young bunny with a sore temper is scarred for eternity for reasons it can't even begin to comprehend. After a few seconds of sheer terror, the bunny peruses a rather uncouth looking symbol with his fore paw in the direction of the wooded dungeon, before scampering off to do who knows what kind of uncivilized acts of symbolism and rage. Back at the wooden clearing, and by this, it is not meant to be a clearing made from wood, the young man groggily awakens to find that he is in immense pain, but not enough to actually resume letting loose his fury. Mostly because he had already overworked his vocal cords, which are not actually cords, during his last duel with awareness and unconsciousness. One which he obviously lost. Mouth dryer than even raw, powdered cinnamon in the mouth of an impressionable youth with a penchant for giving in to peer pressure the likes of which will eventually lead to a drug overdose and a dead hooker, the young, pained fellow stumbled upright, only to immediately be struck dead in the head with paralyzing vertigo. After a few seconds of falling down repeatedly in his mind, the young man finally ventures forth into the great unknown wood surrounding him. Barely aware of what's going on around him, he fails to notice that several times he has manged to phase completely through several objects in his quest to quench his thirst. After an eternity with nary a soul willing to show its pitiful, malnourished face, the young man finally happened upon a stream. Not the kind that you could swim in, but one that is so small that fish can barely survive in its murky depths, or lack thereof. All of this simply floats by the youth like a spit bubble during a hurricane on a summer day. Immediately, he bends down to begin lapping up the elixir of life otherwise known as H20 or dirty stream water, only to suddenly realize that he was not actually scooping up the water like he wished. Upon closer inspection, the water appeared to avoid his presence, entirely. It was not unlike how a rich man avoids the homeless begging for change, or how the other countries tend to avoid Americans at all costs. It was as if the water was denying his presence and simply choosing to flow around him, which considering the bi-polar nature of water isn't all too surprising, except that water is not sentient, only personified as such. Yet here it was doing just that. It was almost enough to break the poor lads mind. In one last vain attempt to quench his fire-filled throat, he thrust his entire head into the shallow water. As was expected, he just fell straight to the bottom. As was not expected, the stream was deep enough to swallow him whole. As his still functioning brain could be expected to perceive, the youth immediately began holding his breath and trying to swim back up. After a few seconds, he finally became aware that he could breath, and couldn't swim. Awe-struck and confused, the youth looked around. The water was actively avoiding him, and worse yet, his lungs seemed to not work. Yet he could breath just fine (If you take not needing to breath at all, and simply going through the motions as just fine). He tried to swim once again, only to find that he simply fell down. At least gravity was working just fine. Looking toward the edge of the oddly cliff-like stream side, the youth gripped the edge of the stream and gracefully climbed out (if you define gracefully as a killer whale breaching the surface of the ocean to bloodily swallow a seal whole). After climbing out, the young man began staring at the water, his throat still as dry and raw as an ass that's been whipped by a salt drenched, spiky dildo. Of PAIN. After a few seconds, the young lad finally gave up, and began staring at the sky. In the back of his mind, at the furthest edge of his consciousness, he wished desperately for something to quench his vital thirst. None came to answer his prayers. As he finally accepted his fate, the young man looked down toward the ground, only to find a single glass of water simply sitting there, as if it had been there the entire time. It was a simple, clear glass with no intricate designs or shapes, and it was about half the size of an American glass, so standard sized. The water that lay within was the melted remains of the purest snow from the highest mountaintops of the furthest mountains on a distant world. Of course, the man had no way of knowing that. All he knew is that he was thirsty and there was a glass of water sitting there, ripe for the taking. Gingerly, he reached for the glass of life giving waters, and, to his surprise, found that he was indeed able to interface with it. After this realization hit him, the dehydrated young man began feverishly gulping down the sweet nectar of the gods that lay within. It felt as though the world had suddenly righted itself, and the young person was at his most joyous, savoring every last, bittersweet drop. Bittersweet for it was only so much and thus, was quickly extinguished. With a contented sigh, the young man took his first real look at where he lay. A forest. One in which it seems as though the daylight refuses to be let in. Stranger still, there was a distinct lack of animals and such about. The young man, whose name will now be disclosed for the first time, whirled about, lost, confused, and more than a little frightened. It was then that for the first time in a long while that Alec spoke aloud, "Where the hell am I?" Glitch in the System (Files)"Where the hell am I..." These words echoed all around Alec for some time, before finally fading away. There was no answer, of course. The lithe youth looked back at the stream he had found earlier, and bent down to get a better look at himself, since he apparently could no longer remember what he looked like. What he was met with was rather tame. Alec was pale and thin, but not emaciated; his slightly messy, long hair reached down to his waist, though it was currently tied back, though a few rebellious strands hung in his face. They almost felt natural there. He was wearing a simple T-shirt of the dark purple variety, with a tan, button up, open trench coat over-top. His black, rimmed glasses spoke of intelligence, but only in the superficial sense. He wore simple blue jeans and black, lace-up sneakers with white trim. A small chain was hooked to one of his Jeans' loops, and tracing it back led to a simple chain wallet. Upon closer inspection, the wallet contained an ID, with a photo that matched the man in the reflection, and a name. "Alec Valkyre, 20 years old." As he spoke this name, memories rose to the surface, though many were vague or murky. A convention, other people that he recognized as friends, strange items for sale, a mass of people vanishing, a laptop computer, and a voice constantly repeating the words "Critical Error." Returning to the memory of the laptop computer, Alec began to remember other vague details, such as hackers, .shell files, viruses, mods and glitches. Hacking. That's right, I used to be a hacker, he mused, absentmindedly remembering various attempts at writing programs, and most of them going horrifically wrong. There was that one program that manged to set my desktop to overload and set itself on fire. That was a doozy, he continued. In the back of his mind, he wished he had his laptop back, so he could at least find a wi-fi signal and figure out where he was. Almost immediately, a screen popped up in front of him, catching him off guard and causing him to fall back. Looking up from where he lay, he saw a floating hologram like projection of a command line, and the following message: SYSTEM ALERT: Player [ ] has entered. "Player?" Alec questioned aloud, confused. Standing up to get a better look at the screen, he tried to walk around it. Oddly enough, it followed him, always staying within his line of sight. Curious, he began poking at the screen, but he simply phased through it, like it only existed to his eyes. Looking back at the screen, he took another notice of the command line below the message. Ok, so how do I type anything without a keyboard? he pondered, when, as if on cue, a projection of a keyboard appeared in front of him as well. To his surprise, Alec could interact with the keyboard. Quickly, he began typing out various commands to try and see if he could get some information out of whatever system created this. None of the usual commands were working, until he typed in a destination: the root databases. Immediately, the screen filled up with lines of code, before settling on several options. 1: Critical System Files 2: Session Database 3: Player Database 4: Class Database 5: Item Database 6: Object Database 7: Enemy Database 8: Unusable Data Alec's curiosity was now piqued. He began by selecting Option 1, only to immediately be met with a error message stating: SYSTEM: Error, Access Denied "Damn, shoulda guessed they wouldn't want anyone poking around in there," he cursed under his breath. Undeterred, he selected Option 2, with presented him with 2 more options: Session Records and Live Feeds. Deciding that a visual would be of greater help, the hacker in training chose the latter. The screen changed once more, growing a few sizes larger. Static occupied it for a few moments, before the picture began to clear up. Before Alec lay the audio-visual representation of another player in another session. A strapping young man in blue pajamas and an eight-armed warrior with a loud mouth waged terrible combat against an unknown foe while strange, large-eyed, pastel, miniature horses of various colors and varieties watched on, some in awe, others in fear. Alec sat there, watching on in awe as the two veteran players struck down their foe, only for said foe to disappear in a fountain of strange collectibles. After which, the pajama clad fighter seemingly disappeared, while the remaining warrior returned to a standard two-armed human form, and called out for the nearest bar. Apparently, they were in the middle of celebrating some sort of holiday. After which, the screen faded to black, and returned to the main menu selection screen. Deciding that he had nothing better to do, Alec spent the next few hours watching more players as they went about their various journeys through the world around them. In time, the lone audience member came to understand a few things about the construct that created this world: This world(s) contains meta-constructs and rules based around various video games, though many are flexible. Each Player has their own session, but a select few can travel between sessions to aid other players if they can discover the means to do so; all Sessions take place in a world called Equestria. All Players have a class assigned to them based on the clothing they were wearing upon entering, and go on a journey of self-discovery and training throughout their time here to bring out their full potential. Each Player's session is different, and depending on your class, you may face more difficult challenges than others. You can create just about anything with enough materials (obtained by defeating enemies), equipment (which you get along your journey somehow), and know-how (basically, if you can imagine it, you can find a way to create it). The Wallet Sylladex method of carrying items is one of the most broken forms of storage; seriously, you can fit an entire house into this thing and then some. The strange horse creatures are called Ponies, and they're the local NPCs of each world; you do not want to get on their bad side. Nobody knows how we got here, or why we're here. With these 7 facts firmly in mind, Alec would spend the next few days pouring over every bit of information he could obtain from these databases about his particular session, the land of Equestria itself, and his role in all of it. What he uncovers, however, is simultaneously everything and nothing he expected to find.
Control (Panel)Black. That was a pretty apt description. Just black, as far as the eye could see. Wait, do I even have eyes? I never thought about it before. If fact, before now, I've never though at all. I guess you could call it being "aware". So I'm here. But where is "here"? Just this endless black void. I'm here, but what exactly am I? Again, I guess I've never thought about it before. Was there even a before? What does that even mean? Just as I was beginning to break under the strain of questioning my existence, a glint caught my attention. There was something in the distance, if distance was something that could be measured here. It, the mirror that is, seemed to shine, which was something new. Something told me to head toward it, but I didn't even know how to move. Did I even have a body? I couldn't feel anything as it were, but who knows? All I knew is that I had a need to move toward that glowing object. After all, it was the only other thing inhabiting this void besides myself. And so, I willed myself to move close to the mirror. It failed. So I tried willing the mirror to move toward me. That also failed. I attempted to release a sigh that didn't exist to begin with. Just as I was about to give up, the mirror appeared to move closer. No, wait, it wasn't moving, that much I could tell. So was I moving? No, I wasn't moving either. So what was happening? Glancing around, it finally dawned on me that the void itself was moving, and thus, the space between the 2 of us vanished. I was there, in front of the mirror, at last. I looked into the mirror, but was, unsurprisingly, met with a visage of more empty space. We stayed like that for some time, before I became aware that I also didn't show up in the mirror. Which made me wonder: did I simply not exist? or was this mirror actually a window? It was ornate, but it's true purpose could not be found. I wanted to touch it. Why can't I touch it? I kept willing myself to touch it, but nothing happened. I had finally found it, but there was nothing I could do with it. I just stayed there, staring at the "thing" in front of me, wishing for it to do something. After a few seconds, something changed. There was static, lots and lots of static. Then, it slowly began to clear up. It showed...A field? Then...a stream? Some strange beings now...What are they called again? Animals? Yeah, animals. Lots of a particular kind. But something was off about them. They were too bright. And the colors were not what would be expected. Pink? Purple? Why are their eyes so big? Are some of them flying? I think those ones have horns? Why do animals have houses and machines? All at once, I felt something. All over my...existance?. It was not at all pleasant. I think it's called...Pain? I clutched my head. Head? I have a head? Since when? And what did I clutch it with? Hands? I have hands and arms? Why can I feel Pain? I can't feel anything else...Gah, what's that bright light? Light? I can see? Gah! Too bright! I looked away, and by looking around, I deduced that the light was coming from the mirror. What else could it have been? All at once, I felt like I was fading away again. Wait. I don't want to go... SYSTEM ALERT: Player [ ] has entered. SYSTEM ALERT: Unknown code has entered Sector Z. THREAT LEVEL: Unknown RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: None ERROR ERROR ERROR...
Ghost in the .shell Everfree Forest: Midday. Time: 1:50 p.m. Date: Unknown A young man (is he a young man?) is laying in the middle of a clearing in what is most certainly a dangerous forest of mystical qualities, but in actuality is a slightly mysterious wood of not-so-dangerous if you're a certain Zebra/Shy Pegasus qualities. The clearing was quiet, not like the fear inducing "quiet before the storm" quiet, and definitely not an eerie "quiet like the breath of an assassin about to strike his prey" quiet, but just a normal sort of lack of noise outside the normal sounds of insects, birds, and animals trying to bang one another to death in the vain hope of continuing the propagation of their species. It was about midday, the sun wasn't in that "high noon, duel to the death" kind of position, but more of a "damn, we missed high noon and now we have to try again tomorrow for our duel to the death" kind of position. But now we're dreadfully off topic, not in the sense that everything that's been said before is totally irrelevant, but more in the sense that we've been rambling on for far too long and should get back to the point of the story. As was said before, a probably young man sits in the middle of a quiet clearing, unconscious. If one were to look upon him, they would find that they couldn't quite make out his form clearly. He seemed to be fuzzy and almost not there at all. Quite like a half-being, or some kinda of paranormal entity that exists and yet doesn't at the same time. Like some sorta....metaphysical, see-through soul that refuses to leave. But not quite. All at once, the young, metaphysical being let loose a scream. Not the kind a kid makes when seeing anything shiny, or the kind a demented person makes for seemingly no reason (although the former tends to do the same as well). No, this was a primal, bloodcurdling scream, one that would sear itself into the mind of every creature within the vicinity, and some outside it for no real reason. The young chap from before was now very much conscious, and very much in pain. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a few seconds, the young man's pain-fueled rage died down into bittersweet unconsciousness once more. Meanwhile, a few meters from the entrance to this mysterious-ish wood, a small, young bunny with a sore temper is scarred for eternity for reasons it can't even begin to comprehend. After a few seconds of sheer terror, the bunny peruses a rather uncouth looking symbol with his fore paw in the direction of the wooded dungeon, before scampering off to do who knows what kind of uncivilized acts of symbolism and rage. Back at the wooden clearing, and by this, it is not meant to be a clearing made from wood, the young man groggily awakens to find that he is in immense pain, but not enough to actually resume letting loose his fury. Mostly because he had already overworked his vocal cords, which are not actually cords, during his last duel with awareness and unconsciousness. One which he obviously lost. Mouth dryer than even raw, powdered cinnamon in the mouth of an impressionable youth with a penchant for giving in to peer pressure the likes of which will eventually lead to a drug overdose and a dead hooker, the young, pained fellow stumbled upright, only to immediately be struck dead in the head with paralyzing vertigo. After a few seconds of falling down repeatedly in his mind, the young man finally ventures forth into the great unknown wood surrounding him. Barely aware of what's going on around him, he fails to notice that several times he has manged to phase completely through several objects in his quest to quench his thirst. After an eternity with nary a soul willing to show its pitiful, malnourished face, the young man finally happened upon a stream. Not the kind that you could swim in, but one that is so small that fish can barely survive in its murky depths, or lack thereof. All of this simply floats by the youth like a spit bubble during a hurricane on a summer day. Immediately, he bends down to begin lapping up the elixir of life otherwise known as H20 or dirty stream water, only to suddenly realize that he was not actually scooping up the water like he wished. Upon closer inspection, the water appeared to avoid his presence, entirely. It was not unlike how a rich man avoids the homeless begging for change, or how the other countries tend to avoid Americans at all costs. It was as if the water was denying his presence and simply choosing to flow around him, which considering the bi-polar nature of water isn't all too surprising, except that water is not sentient, only personified as such. Yet here it was doing just that. It was almost enough to break the poor lads mind. In one last vain attempt to quench his fire-filled throat, he thrust his entire head into the shallow water. As was expected, he just fell straight to the bottom. As was not expected, the stream was deep enough to swallow him whole. As his still functioning brain could be expected to perceive, the youth immediately began holding his breath and trying to swim back up. After a few seconds, he finally became aware that he could breath, and couldn't swim. Awe-struck and confused, the youth looked around. The water was actively avoiding him, and worse yet, his lungs seemed to not work. Yet he could breath just fine (If you take not needing to breath at all, and simply going through the motions as just fine). He tried to swim once again, only to find that he simply fell down. At least gravity was working just fine. Looking toward the edge of the oddly cliff-like stream side, the youth gripped the edge of the stream and gracefully climbed out (if you define gracefully as a killer whale breaching the surface of the ocean to bloodily swallow a seal whole). After climbing out, the young man began staring at the water, his throat still as dry and raw as an ass that's been whipped by a salt drenched, spiky dildo. Of PAIN. After a few seconds, the young lad finally gave up, and began staring at the sky. In the back of his mind, at the furthest edge of his consciousness, he wished desperately for something to quench his vital thirst. None came to answer his prayers. As he finally accepted his fate, the young man looked down toward the ground, only to find a single glass of water simply sitting there, as if it had been there the entire time. It was a simple, clear glass with no intricate designs or shapes, and it was about half the size of an American glass, so standard sized. The water that lay within was the melted remains of the purest snow from the highest mountaintops of the furthest mountains on a distant world. Of course, the man had no way of knowing that. All he knew is that he was thirsty and there was a glass of water sitting there, ripe for the taking. Gingerly, he reached for the glass of life giving waters, and, to his surprise, found that he was indeed able to interface with it. After this realization hit him, the dehydrated young man began feverishly gulping down the sweet nectar of the gods that lay within. It felt as though the world had suddenly righted itself, and the young person was at his most joyous, savoring every last, bittersweet drop. Bittersweet for it was only so much and thus, was quickly extinguished. With a contented sigh, the young man took his first real look at where he lay. A forest. One in which it seems as though the daylight refuses to be let in. Stranger still, there was a distinct lack of animals and such about. The young man, whose name will now be disclosed for the first time, whirled about, lost, confused, and more than a little frightened. It was then that for the first time in a long while that Alec spoke aloud, "Where the hell am I?"
Glitch in the System (Files)"Where the hell am I..." These words echoed all around Alec for some time, before finally fading away. There was no answer, of course. The lithe youth looked back at the stream he had found earlier, and bent down to get a better look at himself, since he apparently could no longer remember what he looked like. What he was met with was rather tame. Alec was pale and thin, but not emaciated; his slightly messy, long hair reached down to his waist, though it was currently tied back, though a few rebellious strands hung in his face. They almost felt natural there. He was wearing a simple T-shirt of the dark purple variety, with a tan, button up, open trench coat over-top. His black, rimmed glasses spoke of intelligence, but only in the superficial sense. He wore simple blue jeans and black, lace-up sneakers with white trim. A small chain was hooked to one of his Jeans' loops, and tracing it back led to a simple chain wallet. Upon closer inspection, the wallet contained an ID, with a photo that matched the man in the reflection, and a name. "Alec Valkyre, 20 years old." As he spoke this name, memories rose to the surface, though many were vague or murky. A convention, other people that he recognized as friends, strange items for sale, a mass of people vanishing, a laptop computer, and a voice constantly repeating the words "Critical Error." Returning to the memory of the laptop computer, Alec began to remember other vague details, such as hackers, .shell files, viruses, mods and glitches. Hacking. That's right, I used to be a hacker, he mused, absentmindedly remembering various attempts at writing programs, and most of them going horrifically wrong. There was that one program that manged to set my desktop to overload and set itself on fire. That was a doozy, he continued. In the back of his mind, he wished he had his laptop back, so he could at least find a wi-fi signal and figure out where he was. Almost immediately, a screen popped up in front of him, catching him off guard and causing him to fall back. Looking up from where he lay, he saw a floating hologram like projection of a command line, and the following message: SYSTEM ALERT: Player [ ] has entered. "Player?" Alec questioned aloud, confused. Standing up to get a better look at the screen, he tried to walk around it. Oddly enough, it followed him, always staying within his line of sight. Curious, he began poking at the screen, but he simply phased through it, like it only existed to his eyes. Looking back at the screen, he took another notice of the command line below the message. Ok, so how do I type anything without a keyboard? he pondered, when, as if on cue, a projection of a keyboard appeared in front of him as well. To his surprise, Alec could interact with the keyboard. Quickly, he began typing out various commands to try and see if he could get some information out of whatever system created this. None of the usual commands were working, until he typed in a destination: the root databases. Immediately, the screen filled up with lines of code, before settling on several options. 1: Critical System Files 2: Session Database 3: Player Database 4: Class Database 5: Item Database 6: Object Database 7: Enemy Database 8: Unusable Data Alec's curiosity was now piqued. He began by selecting Option 1, only to immediately be met with a error message stating: SYSTEM: Error, Access Denied "Damn, shoulda guessed they wouldn't want anyone poking around in there," he cursed under his breath. Undeterred, he selected Option 2, with presented him with 2 more options: Session Records and Live Feeds. Deciding that a visual would be of greater help, the hacker in training chose the latter. The screen changed once more, growing a few sizes larger. Static occupied it for a few moments, before the picture began to clear up. Before Alec lay the audio-visual representation of another player in another session. A strapping young man in blue pajamas and an eight-armed warrior with a loud mouth waged terrible combat against an unknown foe while strange, large-eyed, pastel, miniature horses of various colors and varieties watched on, some in awe, others in fear. Alec sat there, watching on in awe as the two veteran players struck down their foe, only for said foe to disappear in a fountain of strange collectibles. After which, the pajama clad fighter seemingly disappeared, while the remaining warrior returned to a standard two-armed human form, and called out for the nearest bar. Apparently, they were in the middle of celebrating some sort of holiday. After which, the screen faded to black, and returned to the main menu selection screen. Deciding that he had nothing better to do, Alec spent the next few hours watching more players as they went about their various journeys through the world around them. In time, the lone audience member came to understand a few things about the construct that created this world: This world(s) contains meta-constructs and rules based around various video games, though many are flexible. Each Player has their own session, but a select few can travel between sessions to aid other players if they can discover the means to do so; all Sessions take place in a world called Equestria. All Players have a class assigned to them based on the clothing they were wearing upon entering, and go on a journey of self-discovery and training throughout their time here to bring out their full potential. Each Player's session is different, and depending on your class, you may face more difficult challenges than others. You can create just about anything with enough materials (obtained by defeating enemies), equipment (which you get along your journey somehow), and know-how (basically, if you can imagine it, you can find a way to create it). The Wallet Sylladex method of carrying items is one of the most broken forms of storage; seriously, you can fit an entire house into this thing and then some. The strange horse creatures are called Ponies, and they're the local NPCs of each world; you do not want to get on their bad side. Nobody knows how we got here, or why we're here. With these 7 facts firmly in mind, Alec would spend the next few days pouring over every bit of information he could obtain from these databases about his particular session, the land of Equestria itself, and his role in all of it. What he uncovers, however, is simultaneously everything and nothing he expected to find.
