Disclaimer: Phalanx is a work of fan fiction set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). The MCU, along with its characters, settings, and related trademarks, are the property of Marvel Studios and The Walt Disney Company. This work is not authorized, approved, or endorsed by Marvel or Disney. It is created solely for entertainment purposes and is not intended for commercial use. All rights to the original characters and storylines are owned by their respective creators. No copyright infringement is intended.
Alexander Cross jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. He blinked against the harsh sunlight, his body slick with sweat, and his thoughts muddled as if he'd just clawed his way out of a fever dream. The heat was immediate, oppressive, wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. Groaning, he pushed himself up from the hot, sticky pavement, his hand landing in something grimy. He shook it off with a grimace, trying to shake the disorientation along with it.
Where am I?
The alley was a mess—a narrow slice of urban neglect. Graffiti, faded and peeling, covered the walls in bursts of angry color. The ground around him was littered with garbage: crumpled wrappers, shattered glass, and other debris mingled with a thick layer of dust that stuck to his sweat-drenched skin. A nauseating blend of odors hung in the air—stale beer, rot, and the unmistakable stench of overheated trash.
Staggering to his feet, Alexander wiped the sweat from his brow, but it did little to clear his head. His legs wobbled beneath him, the heat amplifying the throb behind his eyes. "Where the hell am I?" he muttered, squinting up at the relentless sun. "This can't be real. I tried to return that wallet, didn't I?"
He barely had time to register his own words before a voice—calm, detached, and oddly clear—echoed inside his skull.
"Welcome, player."
Alexander froze, his pulse spiking. His eyes darted around the alley, scanning the crumbling walls and piles of trash, but he was alone. No one else was here. "What the hell?" he whispered, panic tightening his chest. "Who's there?!" His voice echoed in the silence, but the alley gave no answers.
Am I losing it?
He pressed his palms to his temples, willing his brain to unscramble. The throbbing in his head only seemed to intensify, each beat matching his growing dread. Sweat dripped down his face, mingling with the grime clinging to his skin. "Focus, Alex," he told himself through gritted teeth, trying to hold onto some sliver of sanity.
Still, the heat bore down, twisting his thoughts, and that strange voice kept replaying in his mind. Welcome, player.
Player? What was that supposed to mean?
Feeling the walls closing in, Alexander stumbled out of the alley and onto a bustling street. He blinked against the glare of modern skyscrapers that towered above him, their sleek glass and steel surfaces a stark contrast to the grimy alley he'd woken up in. People passed him by in a blur, the air alive with the sounds of honking horns, distant chatter, and the steady hum of the city. But none of it felt right—nothing seemed familiar.
"Am I dreaming?" he wondered aloud, his voice barely audible over the cacophony. The idea was tempting, even comforting. Maybe he'd wake up soon, back in his bed, and this whole ordeal would fade like a bad hangover. But the heat was too real. The ache in his head was too sharp.
Before he could spiral deeper into confusion, something flickered in the corner of his vision. A floating window—impossibly there, suspended in midair—materialized before him. He stared at it, dumbfounded, his brain scrambling to catch up. The message on it was as bizarre as the situation itself:
Would you like to start the tutorial?
Yes
No
Alexander blinked, half-expecting it to disappear, but it stayed put. His panic ebbed slightly, replaced by a strange, resigned calm. "Great," he muttered under his breath, sarcasm creeping into his voice. "Voices in my head, floating windows... Sure. Why not?"
With a sigh, he reached out—his hand hovering for just a second before he pressed Yes.
The window blinked out of existence, replaced by another. This one felt more structured, less surreal, almost like... a game? The words scrolled out in front of him like mission details from some RPG.
Mission: Find Your Location
Description: You find yourself in an unfamiliar city. Explore your surroundings to determine your location. Inquire with the locals or find a map or landmark to better understand where you are.
Rewards:
Experience: 100 XP
Money: 50 credits
Objectives:
-Investigate the area surrounding the alley.
-Ask at least three local residents about your location.
-Locate a significant landmark or map.
Alexander exhaled slowly, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "This has to be a joke," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Or I've completely lost my mind."
But what choice did he have? Standing here wouldn't get him anywhere. As crazy as it seemed, he might as well play along. After all, what's the worst that could happen in a dream—or whatever this was?
With one last glance at the floating mission window, Alexander squared his shoulders and started walking. Time to figure out where the hell he was.
Alexander stared at the mission prompt hovering in front of him, a mix of disbelief and reluctant acceptance settling over him. The instructions were strange, yes, but they carried a certain logic—at least within the surreal context he found himself in. "So, it's a quest to figure out where I am," he muttered, shaking his head at the absurdity. "If this is a dream, might as well play along. Maybe I'll get something useful out of it."
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the bustling street. The city greeted him with a barrage of sights, sounds, and smells. Honking cars, animated conversations, and the tempting aroma of street food collided in a chaotic symphony, overwhelming his senses. Alexander pushed through the crowd, dodging hurried pedestrians, his mind racing to make sense of everything.
A flash of something familiar caught his eye—license plates on passing cars. Squinting, he focused on one, the word "California" stamped clearly across it. A wave of relief washed over him. "At least I know what state I'm in," he thought, a small victory in the fog of confusion.
Trying to blend in, Alexander decided to gather more clues without raising too much suspicion. He approached a man, head down and absorbed in his phone. "Excuse me," Alexander asked, keeping his tone casual, "can you tell me the name of this avenue?"
The man barely glanced up, his expression showing mild surprise before he answered, "Mednik Avenue." His attention immediately returned to his phone, his interest in the conversation already gone.
"Thanks," Alexander muttered, walking away. One step closer, he thought, feeling a flicker of accomplishment.
Determined to get more information, Alexander's gaze landed on a woman waiting at a bus stop. She looked approachable enough, so he plastered on a friendly smile. "Excuse me, I'm a bit lost. Do you know if there's a police station nearby?"
The woman gave him a curious look, but after a brief pause, she pointed down the street. "Yeah, there's one just around the corner—East L.A. station. Head straight, take a right, and you'll see it."
"Perfect, thank you!" Alexander said, feeling a little more grounded with each step.
He continued down the street, his eyes scanning the people milling about until he spotted a man walking with a cup of coffee at hand. Figuring this was his next shot, Alexander approached with a casual nod. "Hi there. Do you happen to know a good spot for breakfast? I'm new to the area, and I'm starving."
The man raised an eyebrow, as if sizing him up, but then broke into a smile. "Sure, try 'The Old Coffee Pot' a few blocks down. Great breakfast, popular with the locals. Just keep going straight, cross the next avenue, and you'll find it on the left."
Alexander thanked him and continued walking, his stomach rumbling at the prospect of food. As he made his way toward the café, a familiar window popped into view:
Mission Completed: Find Your Location
Experience Earned: 100 XP
Credits Earned: 50
He blinked at the notification, barely registering the numbers as they floated in front of him. The credits… What could he even use them for? His curiosity piqued, Alexander stared at the figure, wondering how virtual currency could possibly help him in the real world.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, another window materialized, its words clear and direct:
The player may convert their credits into any currency in the world. The exchange rate to U.S. dollars is 0.25, with a 10% conversion fee.
Alexander stared at the message, his brows furrowing. "Wait… I can convert these credits into real money?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a mixture of confusion and intrigue swirling through him. Whatever game he was stuck in, it was playing by some seriously strange rules.
Alexander raised an eyebrow at the conversion fee. "Ten percent? Really? What am I, signing up for a shady loan?" he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. Still, breakfast was non-negotiable, and with a sigh of resignation, he decided to convert all 50 of his credits.
The system window updated:
Convert 50 Credits to U.S. Dollars:
Exchange Rate: 0.25
Conversion Fee: 10%
Final Amount: 11.25 USD
"Well, there goes my dreams of becoming a virtual millionaire," Alexander quipped, smirking to himself as he accepted the deal. Eleven bucks wouldn't exactly make him rich, but it would cover a decent breakfast. "I'll take it," he thought with a shrug, making his way to 'The Old Coffee Pot.'
The café was cozy and inviting, just the kind of place you'd stumble into after a strange, reality-bending morning. Vintage photos hung on the walls, mixed in with potted plants that gave the place a warm, lived-in feel. Alexander slid into a seat by the window, enjoying the comforting hum of conversation and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
A waitress with a high ponytail and a smile that could power the whole café bounced over to his table. "Hey there! How's it going? Ready to order?"
Her cheerfulness hit Alexander like a ray of sunshine, and he blinked at her for a second before responding, "Uh, yeah, I guess so. I could definitely use something to remind me life isn't just weird voices and floating windows."
She chuckled, probably thinking he was just another tired customer. "Well, if you're looking for a solid start to your day, I'd recommend the 'Classic Breakfast'—eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes. And trust me, the bacon is house-made. People go nuts for it."
Alexander glanced at the menu, spotting the $8 price tag. "Hmm, $11.25 minus eight bucks leaves me enough for a tip. Not bad for a guy who just figured out how to monetize imaginary money." He grinned. "Sounds like a plan. I'll go with the 'Classic Breakfast.'"
"Excellent choice!" She flashed him another megawatt smile before bouncing off to the kitchen.
As he waited, Alexander gazed around the café, soaking in the atmosphere. There was something comforting about the everyday normalcy of it all. For a moment, it almost made him forget the bizarre situation he was in. But the reality—or whatever this was—still gnawed at him. "Am I in some messed-up dream or the weirdest version of Los Angeles imaginable?" he mused, drumming his fingers on the table. "If this is a dream, my subconscious is way too invested in making me pay for breakfast."
Before he could spiral too deep into his thoughts, the waitress returned, setting down his meal with a cheerful, "Enjoy!"
Alexander grinned up at her. "Thanks. If this bacon's as good as you say, I might have to marry it."
She laughed as she walked away, leaving Alexander to dig into his meal. The bacon, as promised, was perfect—crispy, salty, and worth every penny. "Okay, fine, I'll admit it," he thought, chewing contentedly, "maybe this reality isn't so bad after all."
Just as he was getting into the rhythm of breakfast bliss, the peaceful café atmosphere was shattered by a sudden, sharp scream. Alexander looked up, alarmed, and spotted two men standing near the counter, their faces red with anger. His waitress was caught in the middle, her sunny demeanor replaced by obvious distress as the men yelled at her, their voices loud and threatening.
Alexander's instincts kicked in. He started scanning the scene with the same detached curiosity he always had when chaos erupted. "Huh. So much for a quiet breakfast," he thought, taking another sip of coffee, as if it might help him think clearer. But before he could decide whether to get involved, a familiar pop-up window appeared in front of him, its presence as unwelcome as the argument.
New Mission: Resolve Conflict
Description: A dispute has broken out in the café. Approach the scene and assess how you might intervene to de-escalate the situation. Your actions will determine your reward: experience, credits, and reputation.
Rewards:
150 XP
100 Credits
Reputation (Positive or Negative)
Alexander leaned back in his chair, staring at the glowing text. "Oh, great. Now I'm a part-time conflict mediator." He glanced over at the two men, still bickering loudly, and sighed. Normally, he'd stay as far away from other people's problems as possible—especially when it involved screaming strangers. But the mission rewards were tempting, and he couldn't deny that earning 100 credits might be useful in this twisted game world.
"Besides," he thought, cracking a small grin, "I've always wanted to test out my diplomacy skills... if 'diplomacy' includes heavy doses of sarcasm."
He tossed his napkin on the table, took one last fortifying sip of coffee, and stood up. "Alright, boys. Let's see if I can play peacemaker without getting my face rearranged."
Approaching the argument, Alexander put on his best laid-back smile and stepped right into the fray. "Hey, guys," he said casually, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "any chance we could tone this down a notch? Some of us are trying to enjoy our life-changing bacon over here."
Both men turned to him, momentarily stunned into silence by his unexpected interruption.
"Look, I get it," Alexander continued, unfazed by their glares. "Stuff happens, tempers flare. But this lady here doesn't need to be on the receiving end of it, right? She's just trying to serve up some coffee, not referee a cage match."
The tension between the men seemed to crack, just a little. One of them, the taller of the two, huffed but took a step back, as if realizing how ridiculous they looked. The other man gave a half-hearted nod, muttering something under his breath.
The waitress shot Alexander a grateful look, her shoulders visibly relaxing as the situation de-escalated. "I'm sorry," she mouthed.
Alexander waved off her apology with a lighthearted smile, one that carried the ease of someone who'd been through worse. "Don't sweat it," he said, looking around, and as if whispering a secret he added. "Honestly, I did it more for selfish reasons. My head was already pounding, and those two were doing their best to make it explode. Sometimes, the quickest way to peace is to jump into the fire and put it out yourself."
The waitress's expression softened into one of gratitude, her relief palpable as she gave him a small, genuine smile. "Thank you," she said, before retreating to tend to her other tables, leaving Alexander to his thoughts.
As he turned back to his table, a new window popped up in front of him:
Mission Completed: Resolve Conflict
Experience Earned: 150 XP
Credits Earned: 100
Reputation: Positive
Alexander smirked at the screen. "Hey, maybe I'm better at this hero thing than I thought." He plopped back down into his seat, picking up a piece of bacon with a satisfied grin. "But seriously, next mission better involve something a little less stressful. Like... napping."
Eyeing the floating system window where his credits waited to be converted into dollars. "Alright, let's see what my virtual heroism is worth in cold, hard cash," he muttered, as he began the conversion process. But as his fingers worked, his mind drifted back to the word that had caught his attention earlier—reputation.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a new window appeared, neatly spelling out the intricacies of the reputation system:
Reputation System:
1. Positive Reputation:
This reflects the player's positive influence. Build a good reputation, and NPCs will like you more. Expect better rewards, loyalty, access to exclusive missions, and areas previously off-limits. Basically, you'll be a star—everyone wants to be your friend.
2. Negative Reputation:
Conversely, earning a negative reputation means you've pissed off the locals. NPCs might shun you, or worse, actively make your life difficult. Still, there are certain perks—some doors will only open if you've got a bad streak in you. It's not all doom and gloom, just... a little more complicated.
Alexander's eyes scanned the text as a creeping realization began to stir in his mind. NPCs. A chill ran down his spine. "Wait. Are you telling me that everyone here is an NPC? The waitress? Those guys arguing? They're all... programs?"
He glanced around the café with a new sense of unease, his eyes darting between the customers. For a moment, everything felt like it was vibrating just beneath the surface, as if the world itself was on the verge of glitching out. The people, the sounds, even the very walls of the café suddenly felt less real. Less human.
"This can't be right," he whispered to himself. "NPCs? In real life? What the hell have I gotten myself into?" His hands shook slightly as he raised them, half-expecting to see something unnatural—code, maybe, or some glitch that would confirm his growing suspicion that he wasn't in reality at all.
As panic started to settle in, a more practical worry popped into his mind. "Wait a minute... where's my money?" His heart skipped a beat as he realized he hadn't seen any sign of the cash he'd just converted. His gaze shot to the floating window, his breath quickening. "Oh, come on! Is this some kind of twisted joke? Did the system just eat my breakfast fund?"
Alexander's eyes flicked around the café with growing urgency, as if staring hard enough might somehow summon the missing money. "I swear, if this is a glitch... Am I supposed to live off gratitude and bacon recommendations? Because that's not gonna fly."
As if sensing his desperation, another system window materialized in front of him, its appearance cutting through his spiraling thoughts. This one was different, though—a full menu appeared, listing several categories: Character, Inventory, Skills, Quests, and Guild.
"Okay, okay. Let's not lose it yet. Maybe the cash is just stashed somewhere in here." He tapped on the Character tab, hoping for some clarity. Instead, what he found made him snort in disbelief:
Player Profile: Alexander Cross (Novice)
Title: None
Species: Human
Class: None
Strength: 2
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 5
Vitality: 3
Credits: 100
"Strength of 2?" Alexander muttered, staring at the screen. "I mean, I get that I'm no Hercules, but come on, that's just insulting."
He leaned back in his chair, scowling at the floating stats, trying to make sense of it all. His bank account, now sitting at a big fat zero, didn't help matters. "Great," he grumbled, "so I'm stuck in some weird video game world where I'm broke, out of shape, and apparently not smart enough to figure out where my money went."
But even as he tried to joke his way through the confusion, a nagging feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. This world, with its bizarre systems and rules, felt too intricate, too real to be dismissed as a dream. And yet... nothing about it made sense.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If this is some elaborate manifestation of my worst fears, at least it's thorough. What's next? Fighting off angry NPCs with my bare hands?"
With one last glance at his pitiful stats, Alexander closed the window and stood up. If this really was some game-like reality, then it was time to start leveling up. "First things first," he muttered. "Let's figure out how to get some credits... preferably before the waitress finds out I can't pay for this breakfast."
Determined to make some sense of this strange reality, Alexander sighed and turned his attention to the Inventory tab. "Alright, let's see what kind of loot I'm dealing with," he muttered, half-expecting the system to throw another curveball at him.
The first window that popped up was a dead-on depiction of himself: light blue eyes, deep black hair styled just right, and the casual outfit of blue jeans, a plain white shirt, and white sneakers. "Huh. So, not only am I stuck in some weird game, but they also made sure I looked exactly like myself. At least the system has a good eye for detail." He couldn't help but smirk at the sheer absurdity of seeing his reflection in virtual form.
His attention shifted to the second window, revealing a classic inventory grid. It was mostly empty, but one square in particular caught his eye—the one marked with a shiny dollar sign. Well, there's the money, he thought, a mix of relief and skepticism washing over him. He tapped the icon, and a prompt popped up, asking if he wanted to withdraw the full amount or just part of it.
"Full sum, obviously," Alexander said, clicking the option.
What happened next was nothing short of magical—and freaky. Physical bills materialized right in his hand. He blinked, staring at the crisp money as if it had just fallen from the sky.
His first instinct was to panic. Wait, what? Real cash? Right here? Alexander quickly scanned the room, expecting someone to be watching him, ready to call him out for materializing money out of thin air. He looked around, heart pounding, but no one seemed to notice. The world carried on as usual—normal, despite the fact that he'd just performed some bizarre monetary sorcery.
"Okay, that's... unsettling," he muttered, pocketing the cash and letting out a long breath. "But at least I won't be doing dishes to pay for this breakfast."
As he polished off the last of his meal, Alexander made his way over to the café counter. The waitress greeted him with a relieved smile, clearly remembering the earlier chaos.
"Don't worry about the bill," she said, her voice warm with gratitude. "My boss told me to comp your breakfast. We really appreciate what you did."
Alexander blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Well, that's... nice of him," he said, nodding appreciatively. "In that case, how about you let me cover the breakfast for that guy who left? And maybe—if it's not too much trouble—just go ahead and cover mine as well." He gave her a playful smile, raising an eyebrow.
The waitress laughed softly, clearly charmed by his humor. "Deal," she said, grateful for his offer. With a quick thank-you, she disappeared back into the busy café.
As she walked away, a system window blinked into existence before him, announcing that he'd earned some reputation points. Of course, it was frustratingly vague, only telling him that his reputation had increased but not by how much. "Well, thanks for nothing," he muttered at the cryptic system. Gotta love it when the game keeps you guessing.
Stepping out into the scorching Los Angeles heat, Alexander was immediately hit by the oppressive wall of hot air. Sweat began to bead on his forehead almost instantly. "Great. From bacon heaven to heatstroke in under two minutes," he groaned, wiping his brow as he pushed through the sweltering streets. His thoughts tumbled around, a mess of unanswered questions and confusion about what the hell kind of world he'd fallen into.
Desperate for clarity, he decided to reopen the game menu. The moment he thought about it, the window flickered back into view. He gravitated toward the Quests tab, hoping for some direction. The screen split into three sections: Main Quests, Side Quests, and Completed Quests. The Main Quests tab was depressingly empty—not that he was expecting any grand purpose to suddenly reveal itself. In the Side Quests tab, a single mission title stood out: "Tutorial."
Two steps had already been completed, highlighted in satisfying blue text, but the third one—"Go to the Hideout"—remained stubbornly gray, taunting him with its ambiguity.
"Of course it's something ominous like 'The Hideout,'" Alexander muttered. "Why couldn't it be 'Find a Cozy Couch and Take a Nap'?"
Hoping for a silver lining, he navigated to the Skills tab, only to be greeted by the most disheartening message he'd seen all day: No skills available at this time.
"Seriously? Not a single one?" Alexander huffed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "What am I, an unskilled intern in this weird virtual reality?"
Annoyed but intrigued, he clicked on the Guild tab, curious about its purpose. To his surprise, the name of the guild was "The Guild of Alexander Cross," with exactly one member—him. "Well, looks like I've reached the top of the guild ladder," he chuckled. "King of a guild of one."
The Hideouts tab displayed one location, ominously titled "The Hole." He couldn't help but shudder. "The Hole? That doesn't exactly scream 'welcome home.'"
Pushing through his unease, he skimmed the other tabs: Training, Guild Missions and Activities, and Store. Each one required him to visit the hideout before unlocking any options. "Of course, everything depends on me going to The Hole," he muttered. "Because nothing bad ever happens in a place called that."
His mood lightened slightly as he explored the Store tab, though it didn't make any more sense than the rest of the game. The selection of items was absurd, ranging from mundane necessities to the downright bizarre. But one category stopped him cold: NPCs.
"Wait, NPCs?" Alexander's stomach dropped. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is..." He hovered over the category for a moment, feeling the chill of dread creeping up his spine, but ultimately decided to leave that can of worms sealed. No way was he ready to find out what buying NPCs entailed.
Instead, he clicked on the Vehicles category, and his jaw dropped. Luxury sports cars, sleek motorcycles, and even military-grade tanks were up for grabs. "What kind of game is this?" he marveled, staring at the glimmering rows of cars like a kid in a candy store.
Then his gaze flicked back to his pitiful bank of zero credits, and he let out a defeated sigh. "Well, guess it's just window shopping for now. I don't think even my newly acquired reputation points can get me a tank."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Alexander closed the window, a strange mixture of curiosity and exhaustion settling over him. The more he uncovered, the weirder this world seemed. And yet, something about it kept pulling him in. "Alright, game," he muttered, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Let's see what other curveballs you've got."
Closing the Store tab, Alexander clicked on the final Guild option—Reputation. The screen shifted to show his guild's name along with the number 110, encased in a neat little box labeled Reputation. Beside the number was a small circle marked with a "?", practically begging to be clicked.
"Well, what secrets do you have for me?" he muttered, curiosity pulling him toward the icon. He clicked it, and a detailed window popped open:
Reputation and NPC Recruitment System
1. Reputation:
Positive Reputation: Earned through acts of heroism, rescue missions, or knocking out bad guys. In other words, being the good guy.
Negative Reputation: Accumulated through shady dealings, villainous plots, or causing general mayhem. Think of it as your "bad boy" meter.
Reputation Balance: It's all about your choices—hero or villain. The system fluctuates based on your actions and determines the type of NPCs you can recruit.
2. Guild Store – NPC Recruitment:
Positive Reputation NPCs: Heroes, warriors, and all the goody-two-shoes you could ever want—soldiers, scientists, and vigilantes who fight for the greater good.
Negative Reputation NPCs: Mercenaries, criminals, mad scientists… the kind of people who don't ask questions as long as the price is right.
Neutral NPCs: Freelancers, bounty hunters, and merchants who don't care if you're saving the world or burning it down—as long as you can pay them.
3. Recruitment and Training:
NPCs can be recruited using your reputation points. Heroes for positive, villains for negative. You can train and level them up, and their loyalty might shift based on how you treat them. Keep a hero happy, or watch them turn rogue. Redeem a villain, and they might just become your most loyal ally.
4. Mission System and Morality:
Positive Missions: Rescues, defusing bombs, saving kittens from trees—the classic good guy stuff.
Negative Missions: Theft, sabotage, and other morally questionable tasks that up your villain rep.
Neutral Missions: These are more gray-area, depending on how you handle them. Like stealing tech to save lives. Ethical... or not?
5. Effects of Reputation in the Universe:
Reputation shapes how the world reacts to you—heroes will help, villains will approach you with offers, and major plot points will shift based on your alignment.
Alexander read through the details, his mind spinning as he tried to wrap his head around it. "So, reputation is basically currency now?" he mused, scratching his head. "I can recruit NPCs like they're... merchandise? This game's got a serious ethics problem." The whole idea of buying NPCs—heroes, villains, whoever—left a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn't help but feel like the whole thing had a creepy vibe, like a modern-day version of... well, something best left in dystopian novels.
Even worse, the system didn't seem to care if he recruited ethically questionable characters. Mercenaries and mad scientists? No thanks, he thought. But the allure of power was there, and the system made it clear that reputation wasn't just a number—it was a reflection of how the world saw him.
With the final part of the tutorial looming in his mind, Alexander shifted his thoughts to the Hideout—the next step on his bizarre journey. He clicked on "The Hole," the name of his so-called hideout, and a pop-up message appeared, offering the option to teleport. The catch? He could only do it once a month.
"Well, if I'm going to teleport to a place called 'The Hole,' I might as well do it in style," he muttered, looking around for a secluded spot. Finding a quiet alley where no one could see him suddenly vanish, Alexander clicked Yes with a mix of excitement and dread.
In an instant, the blistering heat of the L.A. streets was replaced by... a cozy apartment?
"The Hole," as it turned out, wasn't some dingy basement or dark lair. Instead, it was a clean, modest space that felt more like an Airbnb than a hideout. "Guess 'The Hole' is just the system's way of lowering my expectations," Alexander quipped, looking around the surprisingly functional space.
The living area was small but neat—gray sofa, dark wooden coffee table, a TV mounted on the wall. Minimalist, but not terrible. A compact kitchen was tucked into one corner, complete with a fridge, stove, and cabinets stocked with basic provisions. "Looks like I won't starve here. Always a plus," he muttered, opening the fridge to find it surprisingly well-stocked.
Further exploration led him to two small bathrooms, both spotless and well-equipped. No luxury, but everything was functional. The Hole might not have been fancy, but at least it wasn't some underground bunker like the name suggested.
The bedrooms followed the same pattern—bare bones but practical. A bed, a wardrobe, and cool, neutral tones everywhere. "Functional, sure," he thought, "but could they at least throw in a plant or something? It's like living in an Ikea showroom."
The final surprise was the small balcony, which offered a panoramic view of the city. It was the one thing that gave the hideout a bit of charm. Alexander stepped outside, taking in the distant noise of the city below. "Well, I guess being in 'The Hole' isn't all bad."
Still, despite the calm of the place, there was an undercurrent of unease. This wasn't just a hideout—it was the starting point for something bigger. Something he didn't fully understand yet. The guild options, the missions, the reputation system—it all pointed to a world that was ready to shape itself around his decisions. Hero? Villain? Or something in between?
For now, though, all he could do was take it one step at a time. He sighed, leaning on the balcony railing, the weight of his new reality starting to sink in. "Alright, world. Let's see what you've got in store for me next."
As Alexander explored "The Hole," a sudden pop-up window appeared with a ridiculously loud fanfare that nearly made him jump out of his skin. "Congratulations, you have completed the tutorial!" the message blared, as if this was a momentous occasion worthy of confetti and fireworks. Along with the announcement came a list of prizes: 250 experience points, 500 credits, a bump in guild reputation, and, to his surprise, an NPC named Lydia, level 1, with no specialization but an "S" potential rating.
"Oh, great. Just what I needed—an NPC to babysit," Alexander muttered, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. He'd already been wrestling with the whole moral dilemma of interacting with NPCs like they were game pieces. But before he could even decide if he wanted to opt out, the system had made the decision for him. Lydia had arrived.
In a flash, she materialized right in front of him—a tall, slender woman with a serious expression that didn't quite match her delicate features. She had fair skin, long dark hair cascading down her back, and intense brown eyes that seemed to see right through him. For a second, Alexander blinked in confusion. She looked an awful lot like Lydia from Skyrim, but… something was off.
Instead of Nordic armor, Lydia stood there in a maid's uniform. Yes, a maid's uniform. Black dress, white apron, lace trim—the whole nine yards. Alexander blinked again, as if maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. But nope, the white gloves and maid's cap were very real, and she looked every bit the picture of professional elegance, despite the fact that she was supposed to be his NPC assistant in what was basically a survival game.
"Well, this is... weird," he thought, trying to reconcile the image of a battle-hardened warrior in a maid's outfit. Her posture was stiff, straight-backed, and serious—definitely not giving off the "here to clean your apartment" vibes. In fact, she was practically radiating an air of quiet authority, like she could organize your sock drawer and stage a coup in the same breath.
Still grappling with the odd situation, Alexander forced a smile. "Hey, uh... Lydia, right?" He half-expected her to break out the iconic Skyrim line: "As you wish, my Thane." But instead, she fixed him with a neutral stare and said in a flat, formal tone, "Good morning, Mr. Cross. My name is Lydia, and I have been summoned to serve you within the limits of my abilities."
"Within the limits of her abilities?" Alexander repeated in his head. He scratched his chin, pretending to ponder deeply. "So... what exactly are the limits of your abilities?" he asked, genuinely curious if she had any hidden talents.
Lydia's face remained expressionless as she delivered the cold, hard truth. "At present, I do not possess any skills. However, I am open to acquiring any that you deem necessary."
"Fantastic," Alexander thought, biting back a smirk. "A maid with no skills. Perfect. It's like getting a fancy vacuum cleaner that doesn't turn on—but hey, at least she's honest."
He glanced around the apartment, trying to think of something—anything—Lydia could do. Cook? Clean? Organize his new and very bland hideout? The problem was, if she had no skills, there wasn't much point in assigning her any tasks. It wasn't like he could hand her a mop and expect miracles.
"Well, I guess there's no harm in starting small," Alexander said aloud, thinking maybe he could teach her some basic chores while figuring out what the heck to do next. "Lydia, how are you with making sandwiches? Or, you know, existing in general?"
Lydia, ever the picture of professionalism, tilted her head slightly. "I am unfamiliar with the specifics of sandwich preparation, but I am willing to learn."
Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yep, this is my life now. Teaching an NPC how to make a sandwich." He looked back at her, feeling a strange mix of amusement and disbelief. "Alright, let's skip the sandwich for now. Maybe I'll figure out what you're good at later. No offense, but right now, you're like a blank slate with a really impressive resume."
Lydia nodded, her expression never wavering. "Understood, Mr. Cross. I will await your further instructions."
Alexander gave her a half-smile. "Yeah, sure. We'll figure it out as we go. Welcome to the team, Lydia. Or, you know, whatever this is."
Desperation clawed at Alexander as he opened the system menu, his fingers trembling slightly as he navigated to the Guild Training tab. A tiny flame of hope flickered in his chest—maybe, just maybe, this would unlock some hidden talent or skill. But that hope was snuffed out in an instant when a message popped up: Training is locked behind Level 2 hideouts.
Alexander let out a long, defeated sigh. "Of course it is," he muttered. He could almost feel the game mocking him, dangling these features just out of reach like a particularly smug carrot on a stick.
Turning to Lydia, who was standing there with her unshakable poise, he asked, half-resigned, half-curious, "So... any idea how we can, you know, actually learn some skills? You and I could use an upgrade."
Her response was calm, almost too calm, as if the absurdity of their situation hadn't even registered with her. "Skills can be acquired through training, missions, or specific activities. There are also books designed to teach particular skills."
"Books?" Alexander's interest perked up for a moment, his mind conjuring images of leisurely bookstore trips, maybe picking up a volume on cookery or gardening. Something simple and normal for a change. But Lydia quickly burst that bubble.
"Yes, books," she confirmed, "but only those purchased from a system merchant with credits, or from the guild store using reputation."
Alexander groaned, his shoulders sagging. "Of course, it's never as easy as popping into a local library." he muttered under his breath. It seemed every solution had to be buried under layers of system mechanics and locked doors.
With books off the table for now, he navigated back to the game menu and opened the Guild Missions and Activities tab, hoping to find something useful. The screen lit up with a list of ten missions, neatly split between green (positive reputation) and red (negative reputation) categories. Each one had a name that practically screamed what kind of mission it was, as well as its difficulty level.
Positive Reputation Missions:
"Community Cleanup" – Level 1 (Daily Mission)
Description: Assist in cleaning up a public space, picking up litter and planting trees. Modest boost in reputation, small credits reward.
"Neighborhood Protector" – Level 2
Description: Patrol a neighborhood at night to stop petty crimes and mediate disputes. Moderate effort, significant boost in positive rep.
"Food Delivery" – Level 3
Description: Deliver food to those in need across multiple locations. Solid rep boost and decent credits.
"Animal Rescue" – Level 2 (Daily Mission)
Description: Help an animal shelter care for abandoned animals. Steady rep growth and a few credits.
"Dispute Mediator" – Level 4
Description: Mediate conflicts in the community, requiring social skills. Big boost in reputation.
Negative Reputation Missions:
"Minor Sabotage" – Level 1 (Daily Mission)
Description: Sabotage a private property without getting caught. Small negative reputation and some credits.
"Extortion of Merchants" – Level 3
Description: Intimidate local merchants into paying protection fees. Risky but lucrative, with a decent chunk of negative rep and credits.
"Spreading Rumors" – Level 2
Description: Spread false rumors to harm someone's reputation. Moderate boost in negative rep.
"Property Destruction" – Level 4
Description: Destroy key property for a significant boost in negative rep and credits.
"Smuggling" – Level 5
Description: Traffic illegal goods across the city. High risk, high reward with loads of negative rep and credits.
Alexander's eyes scanned the missions, quickly realizing that the red ones were a bit much for him at the moment. Sabotage? Extortion? Smuggling? He wasn't exactly ready to jump into a life of crime. "Yeah, I'm not about to start shaking down merchants for protection money. That's a little beyond my skill set right now," he muttered with a dry chuckle.
The green missions, on the other hand, were much more his speed. "Community Cleanup" looked manageable—picking up trash and planting trees wasn't exactly glamorous, but it sounded easy enough. Plus, it came with a steady supply of reputation points, and he wasn't about to turn his nose up at free credits. "Guess I'll start small," he thought. "Saving the world one piece of litter at a time."
Before diving in, though, he clicked over to the Activities tab out of sheer curiosity. The moment it opened, his eyes widened at the sheer scope of what was available. There were tasks ranging from delivering newspapers to overseeing a multinational corporation. It was a dizzying array of possibilities, and for a second, Alexander just stared at the screen in disbelief.
"Okay, wow. You mean I can go from a paperboy to running a Fortune 500 company in this system? That's quite the career path," he mused, shaking his head. "Maybe I should just start a meth lab while I'm at it. Apparently, anything goes around here."
The sheer absurdity of the options left him torn between laughing and banging his head against the wall. It was like the game was daring him to dive into all kinds of chaos, offering everything from mundane tasks to full-blown criminal enterprises. The only thing missing was a mission titled "How to Maintain Your Sanity in This Bizarre Game."
"So, basically, I'm underqualified for most of this stuff," he muttered to himself. With that clarity in mind, he scrolled back to the Missions tab, letting out a resigned sigh as he selected the "Community Cleanup" mission.
Mission: Community Cleanup
Description:
The city, with its tangled streets and bustling avenues, is in dire need of a makeover. As a guild member, you've been tasked with a humble yet important mission—helping clean up a chosen urban stretch. A map will guide you to the messiest areas, where piles of trash are ruining the city's charm. Your job? Gather all the litter, sort it into recyclables and non-recyclables, and toss it in the appropriate bins. It's not glamorous, but hey, someone's got to do it.
Details:
Location: Central Plaza and Adjacent Streets.
Estimated Duration: 1-2 hours.
Objectives:
Collect at least 100 units of trash.
Separate recyclables from non-recyclables.
Plant three young trees in specified locations.
Rewards:
300 XP
500 credits
50 positive reputation points
Bonus:
Complete the task in under an hour to earn an extra 100 XP.
Tips:
You can do this mission alone or with NPCs.
Avoid causing a scene; getting into trouble could hurt your reputation.
Alexander read through the mission details, taking it all in with a smirk. "So, picking up trash and planting trees. Not exactly hero material, but it beats sitting around." The promise of solid rewards and a decent chunk of reputation points made it worth the effort. Besides, if he finished fast enough, he'd snag some bonus XP. Who knew cleaning up garbage could be so... competitive?
With a quick tap, he accepted the mission. A map flashed up, showing the Central Plaza and nearby streets in desperate need of attention. "Time to roll up my sleeves and get dirty," he muttered. "Literally."
The cleanup mission went surprisingly well. Alexander finished way ahead of schedule, bagging the bonus XP and managing not to cause any chaos in the process. As he stood in the now-pristine plaza, a rare sense of satisfaction settled over him. Who knew cleaning up trash could be so... fulfilling? "If only saving the world was always this straightforward," he thought with a grin.
But during the mission, one problem had become glaringly obvious: Lydia's outfit. The maid uniform had drawn more attention than the garbage itself. Half the people who passed by thought she was a cosplayer, and a few even stopped for photos. "Yeah, this has to change," Alexander mused, rubbing the back of his neck.
With his newfound credits and reputation, he dove into the guild's virtual store, determined to find something more appropriate. After a quick search, he landed on a sleek, dark blue one-piece dress. It was elegant but simple, with a slender belt that highlighted Lydia's figure without screaming for attention. He paired it with black leather boots and a silver necklace for a touch of sophistication. To top it off, he added a lightweight black leather jacket—stylish yet practical, and perfect for any situation.
The whole ensemble set him back 200 reputation points, but it was worth it. Lydia now looked much less like someone cosplaying at Comic-Con and more like someone who could blend into the city without causing a scene. That said, her striking beauty still turned heads, but at least she wouldn't be getting mistaken for a convention-goer.
"Much better," Alexander said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Now you look ready for whatever this game throws at us."
Lydia gave a small nod. "Thank you, Mr. Cross."
Satisfied, Alexander turned his focus to the next mission on the list: Food Delivery. It sounded simple enough—dropping off food to people in need across the city. Easy work, but it came with the promise of more reputation points and credits, which were becoming increasingly valuable.
The Food Delivery mission turned out to be deceptively simple but unexpectedly rewarding. As he and Lydia distributed meals, Alexander found himself caught off guard by how much he enjoyed it. The grateful smiles, the warmth in the eyes of the people they helped—it all added a layer of humanity to what he'd initially written off as just another task.
"Who knew delivering food could make you feel like a superhero," he mused as they wrapped up the last delivery. Lydia, ever stoic, said nothing, but he could've sworn there was a flicker of understanding in her eyes.
With the mission complete and another stack of credits and reputation points added to his growing pile, Alexander felt a renewed sense of purpose. Sure, it was still early days, and he was far from figuring out the bigger picture of this strange world, but at least now he had momentum. The tasks were small, but they were building toward something greater. Plus, he was starting to get the hang of things—and more importantly, how to bend the system to his will.
Their next venture was the "Animal Rescue" mission, and if Alexander thought picking up trash was a humble task, he was about to level up in cuteness overload. The mission involved freeing a bunch of puppies trapped in a run-down, crumbling building. As soon as they arrived, Alexander felt like a superhero—only instead of saving the world from impending doom, he was saving tiny, yipping balls of fur.
But it was Lydia who really stole the show. Her movements were graceful and precise, like she'd been training for this her whole life. She handled the pups with such care and efficiency that Alexander half-expected her to whip out a diploma in animal handling. Watching her navigate the debris and gently scoop up the puppies, he couldn't help but quip, "Well, looks like I'm the sidekick today."
With the puppy rescue mission successfully wrapped up (and Alexander's heart thoroughly melted), they moved on to the next challenge—Dispute Mediator. Now, this one was trickier than either of them expected. What should've been a simple task of calming down a few minor disagreements quickly spiraled into chaos. It was like the very sight of Alexander and Lydia trying to mediate set off a chain reaction of drama.
First, there was a heated argument at a market stall, which quickly turned into a shouting match. Then, as if the universe decided to throw in a bonus round, a full-blown tavern brawl erupted. "Great, now we're referees," Alexander muttered as he dodged a flying bottle.
But with Lydia's calm presence and Alexander's growing knack for talking people down, they somehow managed to de-escalate each conflict without things getting too violent. It was exhausting, though. By the end, Alexander felt like he'd just mediated an entire season of reality TV drama.
Yet, their efforts paid off in spades. They racked up a whopping 4,500 experience points, 8,000 credits, and a hefty 1,200 reputation points. Alexander was stunned to find that he had leveled up twice, netting him 20 points to allocate. He felt a surge of excitement—until he saw the cost of upgrading his stats.
With only 10 points per level, he quickly realized that upgrading anything was ridiculously expensive. Boosting his strength from 2 to 3 would cost him a jaw-dropping 300 points. "Seriously? 300 points just to go from barely lifting to lifting slightly more?" he grumbled, staring at the screen in disbelief. It felt like the game was designed to make every upgrade a monumental leap, but at the cost of making progress painfully slow.
Adding to his frustration was the fact that despite all the XP and reputation, he still had no new skills. The system remained stubbornly mysterious about how to acquire them, leaving Alexander feeling like he was missing something obvious.
There was no other option but to keep pushing forward, doing missions, and hoping that eventually, the system would reveal its secrets.
As they made their way back to the hideout, the silence between Alexander and Lydia grew heavier, as if both were lost in their own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence, but there was a question nagging at Alexander—something he couldn't shake any longer. Glancing at Lydia, who still drew curious glances even in her more practical outfit, he finally asked, "Lydia... is there a difference between you and the people around us?"
He wasn't sure what kind of answer he expected, but Lydia didn't hesitate. Her response was calm, professional, as though she had already anticipated the question.
"Yes, Mr. Cross," she said, her tone serene yet unsettling in its precision. "There are fundamental differences. I am an NPC, a construct of the game's design, while the people you see around us are living beings, much like yourself. NPCs like me can be revived if destroyed, provided a certain amount of reputation points, equal to half our original value, is paid. For living beings, however, the process is far more complex. In theory, there are methods to restore life, but such means are beyond your current capabilities."
Her words hit Alexander harder than he expected. He knew, intellectually, that Lydia wasn't "real"—that she was a system-generated character, a creation of code. But the way she carried herself, her calm demeanor, her efficiency—it was hard to see her as just an NPC.
"I see," he said after a moment, trying to process her explanation. "That's... helpful to know." There was relief in her answer, but also a strange sadness. Lydia could be revived if something happened to her, but the thought of "losing" her, even temporarily, felt wrong.
As they continued walking, Lydia's words echoed in Alexander's mind. Sure, she was just a construct, a system-generated entity. But that didn't change the fact that she felt real to him. Her presence, her actions—they weren't just lines of code. And as much as he tried to remind himself that she was "just an NPC," it wasn't that simple.
"Thanks, Lydia," Alexander added quietly. "I think I needed to hear that."
Lydia, ever calm and composed, simply nodded. "You're welcome, Mr. Cross."
As they neared the hideout, Alexander couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "I'm over here questioning the nature of NPCs while also worrying about how to level up and get new skills. What a weird day." But even though Lydia's explanation had eased some of his doubts, he knew the question of her true nature wasn't going away anytime soon. For now, though, it was enough.
By the time they arrived back at their hideout, twilight had begun to creep across the sky, casting long shadows over the city. Exhausted but still buzzing with the day's strange events, Alexander tried to shake off the lingering uncertainties weighing on his mind. He needed a distraction, something simple and grounded. Lydia required food and rest, just like he did, so he headed to their modest kitchen to see what he could scrounge up.
Surveying the available ingredients—eggs, cheese, onions, and a can of tomatoes—he decided on a simple plan. "Alright, cheese omelet with tomato sauce. Nothing fancy, but it'll do the trick," he muttered, setting the items on the counter.
But just as he was getting into the groove, a familiar ding filled the air, and a pop-up window flashed before his eyes:
New Skill Unlocked: Cooking (Level 1/100)
Alexander blinked at the message, staring at it with a mix of disbelief and resignation. Cooking? He had been making his own meals for years—some of them pretty decent, if he said so himself. And now, apparently, he was a complete novice in the culinary arts according to the game's system.
"Great, I'm a rookie at something I've been doing for half my life," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he shook his head. "Next thing you know, it's going to tell me I've unlocked the skill for 'Breathing' at Level 1."
Meanwhile, Lydia had settled herself comfortably on the couch, flicking through channels on the TV like she'd done it a million times before. Alexander got to work chopping onions, the rhythmic sound of the knife giving him something to focus on other than the strangeness of his day. Everything seemed in control for once—calm, even—until the voice of a TV host in the background made him freeze mid-chop.
"And at last night's charity gala, Tony Stark made quite the entrance…"
Alexander's hand stopped cold. The knife hovered over the onions as his brain short-circuited for a moment. Tony Stark? His heart skipped a beat, and he slowly turned to look at the TV, as if that would somehow change what he'd just heard. Lydia remained completely unbothered, watching the show like it was just another piece of normal news.
But for Alexander, it was anything but normal. "Tony Stark?" he repeated under his breath, like saying it aloud might make it less insane.
Tony Stark, as in Iron Man, that Tony Stark. If Tony Stark was real here, then that meant… Alexander's stomach twisted in knots as the full realization hit him. He wasn't just stuck in some random game world with NPCs and skill points—this was a world where comic book heroes, and potentially villains, existed. The stakes just got a whole lot higher.
His mind raced, trying to process the implications. If Stark was real, what other chaos was lurking around the corner? Superheroes? Supervillains? Interdimensional threats? His little cleanup and food delivery missions suddenly seemed woefully inadequate for the world he'd found himself in.
A chill crawled up his spine. He was in way over his head, trapped in a reality that was far more dangerous—and far more complicated—than he had ever imagined. He turned back to the onions, still half-chopped on the cutting board, and muttered to himself in a voice tinged with dread and disbelief:
"I'm so screwed."