“Is this the drop pod?”
The middle-aged man with the ID “Hardcore Lao Wang” leaned in toward the nearest metal cylinder, reaching out to touch an armor plate that looked as if it had been crudely riveted into place.
A rough texture greeted his fingertips.
“Unbelievable.”
Far from being disappointed, Lao Wang pressed his face against the complex tangle of piping like a pervert appreciating an antique.
“Look at this oxidation layer! Look at the thickness of this sludge! There’s no way this is just a texture map from an art asset. This tactile feel… it’s too damn real!”
“Isn’t this a bit too hardcore?”
Keyboard Warrior No. 1 stood barefoot on the freezing metal grate, legs trembling from the cold.
He circled the iron coffin called a “drop pod” twice, trying to find a door handle, only to discover the thing was seamless, like a welded iron drum.
He tried forcing a valve-like lever on the side, but it didn’t budge.
“Hey! Is there a living soul here to explain this?” Keyboard Warrior No. 1 shouted toward the empty dome, annoyance lacing his voice.
“Where’s the tutorial NPC? Is this a bug? I just want to know—can someone give me some pants first?”
The crowd began to stir.
This setup—zero guidance, gear depending entirely on imagination, starting out totally stark naked—really challenged most people’s gaming common sense.
Some began kicking the surrounding iron racks, some tried calling up the log-out menu, and some even suspected this was a half-baked scam.
“Bzzz—BOOM!”
Without warning, the row of dim high-pressure sodium lights above the staging area went out all at once.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Immediately after, harsh red lights started revolving, and all the exhaust valves opened simultaneously.
The screaming hiss of high-pressure steam venting made everyone’s eardrums ache.
“What’s going on? A scripted death?”
“Don’t panic! Look up!”
Above their heads, accompanied by the metallic clashing of heavy gears meshing together, a massive ring-shaped observation platform slowly descended.
*Clack!*
A beam of spotlight, blinding to the point of pain, pierced the darkness like the Spear of God and slammed straight onto the center of the platform.
Standing in the light beam was a person.
No, to be precise, a humanoid war machine.
Dark green, streamlined power armor encased his entire body.
The jump pack on his back was still sputtering faint blue streams of ion fire, distorting the air around him.
Above his head floated a line of faint golden holographic characters:
[Faction Leader: Yao Qian (Former Earth Union Major)]
*System, is the visual trickery module stable?*
Yao Qian stood with his hands behind his back, maintaining a sculpture-like pose inside this half-ton power armor, but in his mind, he was frantically messaging the system.
[Module operating normally. In the players’ retinal projection, lighting rendering is maxed out, and the BGM has switched to Twilight of Humanity.]
Perfect.
Yao Qian looked down at the players below, who were craning their necks and gaping with open mouths.
He knew the timing was ripe.
He took a step forward, the armored combat boot crashing down onto the metal floor with a heavy, dull thud.
The loudspeaker activated, his deep and magnetic voice reverberating through the enclosed space with built-in reverb:
“Look at yourselves now.”
The commotion below ceased.
Everyone was awestruck by the overwhelming pressure emanating from him.
This wasn’t a stiff, scripted NPC—the disdain in his eyes was too vivid, so real that it made them feel like total trash.
“Some have asked, why are we hiding in this derelict star sector?”
Yao Qian abruptly swept his arm outward, pointing out toward the sea of stars beyond the dome, his tone suddenly rising:
“Because the Earth Union is sick! They think transplanting compound eyes onto their foreheads is evolution! They think injecting Zerg genes into their spines is transcendence!”
“Alien emotions cannot connect with ours; their logic runs completely counter to humanity’s. They view individuals as ants, treat life as a toy, and regard our existence as a cosmic error!”
The spotlight shook violently with his movements, casting a long, stretched shadow behind him like a roaring demon god.
“Coexistence? That is a lie told by the weak begging for alms! A self-deceptive daydream of the Earth Union!”
Yao Qian slammed a heavy fist onto the guardrail, sending sparks flying.
“The only ones who can save humanity are humans themselves! The only things that can guard the embers of civilization are the swords and artillery in our hands! Here, there is no retreat. We either conquer the planet beneath our feet as our starting point, or we become a pile of dross in bug filth!”
A dead silence lasted for two seconds.
Immediately after, the player crowd exploded.
“Holy shit! These lines! Now that’s professional!”
“I’m hyped! I told you this game wasn’t some generic asset swap! This worldbuilding, this grand theme—it’s maxed out!”
“Is this the true purpose of the Pureblood Human faction? I love it! To hell with aliens, I’m gonna be a pure species zealot!”
The players automatically filled in countless background stories in their minds.
The disappointment they had felt due to the shabby environment was now entirely transformed by this cinematic performance into an appreciation for the apocalyptic style.
Shabby?
No, this is wasteland style!
This is battle-damaged aesthetics!
Striking while the iron was hot, Yao Qian gave a grand wave of his hand.
A system light screen popped up before every player’s retina:
[Novice Main Quest: Pioneering]
[Objective: Board the drop pods, land on the planet’s surface, and establish an outpost.]
[Requirements: Collect minerals/biological samples/energy crystals and submit materials to the space station in exchange for Energy Points.]
[Reward: Citizen Contribution Points +100.]
“All hands, board the pods! Mandatory ejection in three minutes!”
Yao Qian issued the final order.
“This is a real man’s game!”
Li Lei (ID: My Broadsword Is Thirsting) was the first to snap back from the shock.
Looking up at that tall, exalted figure, the blood inside him seemed to surge once more.
No bullshit, no sappy tutorial, not even giving you a gun—just throwing you straight into hell.
This long-lost, brutal thrill belonging solely to the battlefield made every cell in his body shiver.
He took the lead, picked a drop pod at random, and squeezed inside like a slippery eel.
“Fuck it! I’m going all in!”
Breaking Bad was also caught up in the atmosphere, gnashing his teeth as he charged toward another cylinder.
“For Energy Points! For big guns!”
“Don’t push! This one’s mine! I have a bench fitter certificate, I know how to fix this thing!”
Construction Site Palu ran wild, shoving Keyboard Warrior No. 1 aside, the feverish glint in his eyes like a starving dog seeing a meaty bone.
Fifty stark-naked men scrambled to stuff themselves into those clumsy, massive black drop pods.
Nobody cared if there were leather seats inside, nor did anyone care about seatbelts.
Their minds were filled with nothing but those 100 Contribution Points and the upcoming unknown world.
*Clack, clack, clack…*
With a series of grating metallic locking sounds, twenty drop pods were sealed shut.
Looking out at the empty staging area and the twenty “iron coffins” whose green readiness lights had illuminated, Yao Qian let out a long breath.
Cold sweat finally seeped through his back.
Thank god, he pulled off the bluff.
He walked over to the control console, looked at the countdown displayed on the screen, and hesitated no longer.
Placing his palm on the red mechanical lever, he slammed it down hard.
“Good luck, cannon fodder.”
*BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!*
No elegant countdown, no smooth propulsion.
Accompanied by a series of dull explosions like giants spitting, high-pressure gas released terrifying kinetic energy in an instant.
Twenty dark metal cylinders were violently blasted out of the space station’s airlock, like pebbles casually tossed by a mischievous child, plunging awkwardly toward the murky planet below.
Inside the pods:
“AAAAHHHHH—”
“What the fuck is this G-force?! My guts are coming out!”
“Devs, screw your whole family! Is this vibration 100% realistic too?!”
Ghostly wails and miserable screams echoed over the channel, but to Yao Qian’s ears, it was the sweetest melody in this star sector.
It was the prelude to the revival of civilization.
Even if the tune was a little off-key.