2 I hate Sand
A bone-jarring thump. That was the first sensation that registered as consciousness flickered back to life. Groaning, I cracked open my eyes, the harsh desert light searing them momentarily. A wave of nausea washed over me, followed by a searing pain that radiated from my back. I was sprawled on a vast expanse of sand, the relentless sun beating down mercilessly.
"Of course," I croaked, my voice hoarse. "A desert planet." At least it wasn't instant death, I conceded grudgingly. But then a chilling realization hit me. Pain meant I was alive. Truly, excruciatingly alive, without the blissful oblivion of death as an escape.
"Damn that bastard Aphelion," I muttered under my breath. My first wish for death immunity suddenly made a horrifying amount of sense. He hadn't tampered with it, the cunning trickster. This endless torture was all part of his twisted game.
With a defeated sigh, I pushed myself upright, wincing at the protest from my abused back. The endless horizon offered no solace, only a vast expanse of shimmering sand dunes stretching as far as the eye could see. A few minutes of fruitless scanning confirmed my worst fears. There was absolutely nothing here – no sign of life, no vegetation, not even a single, solitary rock for shade.
"Should have chosen eternal rest," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. With each step, my vision blurred slightly, the relentless sun draining my already dwindling energy. The thin fabric of my t-shirt offered no protection from the scorching heat, and the constant itch gnawed at my sanity.
The minutes bled into hours, measured only by the increasing weariness in my limbs and the ever-growing thirst that parched my throat. Forty-five minutes, I remembered, forcing a smile that quickly turned into a grimace. Forty-five minutes since I'd last counted, then simply couldn't muster the will to keep track.
Despair threatened to engulf me, but I shoved it down. Giving in wouldn't solve anything. Spitting out a mouthful of dry sand, I trudged forward, a single, desperate hope clinging to me – the hope of finding even the tiniest speck of civilization in this desolate wasteland.
A flicker of light danced in the corner of my vision, momentarily distracting me from the relentless sun and gnawing thirst. Squinting, I focused on the source – a holographic screen hovering a few inches from my outstretched hand. Relief washed over me, warm and unexpected. My system! Aphelion might have limited its potential, but it was here nonetheless.
"Hell yeah, system! Show me my data," I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lines of blue text materialized on the screen.
[Name: James Newitt
Race: Human
Abilities: None
Title: Reincarnator]
Disappointment gnawed at me. Just that? No stats, no health bars, no fancy skill trees? It felt like a cheap knock-off of the video game systems I used to play.
[Yes Host, as I'm only capable of assessing this much at the moment.] The system's voice, devoid of any inflection, echoed in my mind.
"I see," I muttered, the initial excitement fading. Aphelion, the deceitful trickster, had truly put limitations on my wishes. Dwelling on it wouldn't help, though. I had a vast desert to navigate, and complaining wouldn't get me anywhere.
"System, do you have a marketplace?" I inquired, a sliver of hope flickering within me.
[Affirmative Host.]
"Open it."
The world around me blurred for a moment, then sharpened into a dazzling display. The holographic screen transformed, filled with row upon row of icons, each one representing a different item – weapons, armor, abilities, even techniques from countless universes. My eyes widened in recognition – Naruto, Bleach, One Piece, Transformers, Star Wars, Marvel… the list seemed endless.
A line of text materialized at the bottom of the screen: [For first-time purchase, there will be a 50% discount on purchased items.]
A surge of excitement coursed through me. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of this predicament after all. With trembling fingers, I touched the screen, bringing up a command prompt.
"System, show me my current balance."
A single line of text materialized.
[Credit: 2,000]
Two thousand credits. Enough to get me started, at least. A mischievous grin stretched across my parched lips. It was time to start shopping. This desolate wasteland wouldn't stand a chance against a reincarnated human with a galactic marketplace at his disposal.
Scrolling through the marketplace, my eyes lingered on the powerful abilities – telekinesis, elemental manipulation, even flight. All incredibly tempting, but the price tags were astronomical, hovering around the two-million-credit mark. With a sigh, I acknowledged my current financial status – more broke than I'd ever been in either of my lives.
Three minutes of deliberation later, I settled on a strategic combination. First, the Aratech 74-Z speeder bike, a reliable and familiar machine from the Star Wars universe, priced at a reasonable 300 credits. Second, the Infinite Water Case, a lifesaver in this desolate wasteland, for 500 credits. Finally, to enhance my survival, I snagged the Eagle Eye ability (Tier 1) for 700 credits.
The confirmation screen displayed the breakdown:
[Aratech 74-Z: 300 Credits
Infinite Water Case: 500 Credits
Eagle Eye (Tier 1): 700 Credits
Total: 1,500 Credits
Discount Used: 750 Credits
Confirm Purchase?]
A simple "yes" later, and a wave of satisfaction washed over me. Before my eyes, the sleek form of the Aratech 74-Z materialized, gleaming in the harsh sunlight. The Infinite Water Case felt refreshingly cool in my hand. With trembling fingers, I opened it, a small spout appearing at the base. Crystal clear water flowed out, and I cupped my hand, letting the cool liquid quench my parched throat. The relief was indescribable.
Wiping my mouth, I approached the speeder, a sense of wonder replacing the despair. This wasn't just any machine – it was a piece of Star Wars lore, a speeder bike I'd only ever seen on screen. Running my hand over the smooth metal, I felt a surge of excitement. This was a game-changer.
'System, show me my balance,' I commanded.
[Current Credit: 1,250]
Not a fortune, but enough for now. I needed to prioritize survival and figure out how to navigate this unforgiving landscape. With renewed hope, I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the controls. Thankfully, the intuitive design echoed the speeder bikes I'd seen in the movies.
A twist of the throttle, and the engine roared to life. The familiar whine sent a thrill through me. Gripping the handlebars, I eased forward, the speeder accelerating with surprising speed. The dry sand whipped past, a stark contrast to the smooth glide I remembered from the films. But hey, beggars can't be choosers. This was freedom compared to trudging on foot.
Leaving the endless desert sand behind, I steered the speeder forward, a faint hope flickering on the horizon. With the Eagle Eye ability hopefully enhancing my vision, maybe, just maybe, I could spot some sign of civilization in this unforgiving wasteland.
__________________
Two grueling hours had passed. The relentless sun beat down, turning my throat to sandpaper. I dismounted from the speeder, leaning against it for a moment's respite. Reaching for the Infinite Water Case, I took a long, satisfying drink, the cool liquid reviving me.
Eagle Eye activated, I scanned the horizon. The vast expanse of desert seemed to stretch on forever, an endless sea of sand under the slowly descending sun. Despair threatened to engulf me again. This planet, if it could even be called that, seemed devoid of life.
Just as the tendrils of panic began to tighten, a flicker of movement in the distance caught my eye. Focusing my enhanced vision, I spotted figures about four kilometers away. Three humans, riding what appeared to be massive, four-legged creatures – Mukaali, if my memory served me right.
A surge of excitement coursed through me. Civilization! Or at least some semblance of it. Without wasting another moment, I revved the speeder engine, the familiar whine a welcome sound in the desolate silence. With renewed hope, I steered towards the figures, the speeder kicking up a plume of sand in its wake.
The distance between me and the group rapidly dwindled. As I drew closer, I could make out more details. They wore cobbled-together armor, a mix of leather and scavenged metal plates, and carried crude but seemingly functional weapons. Their weary expressions and cautious stance spoke of a harsh life in this unforgiving environment.
Just as I reached a safe distance, they halted, weapons raised in a defensive posture. I held up my hands in a placating gesture, hoping to avoid a fight.
"Whoa there, fellas! No need for violence," I called out, my voice hoarse from the dry air. "I'm just a traveler, lost and in need of some help."
The lead figure, an aged man with a weathered face and piercing green eyes, dismounted his Mukaali and approached cautiously. He stopped a few meters away, his gaze fixed on me. He spoke in a guttural language, harsh-sounding and unfamiliar to my ears.
"System, can you translate their language?" I thought quickly, a flicker of hope sparking.
A faint chime echoed in my mind. "[Translating… Gothic… Knowledge gained.]"
Suddenly, the man's words became clear. "Who are you, boy?"
I blinked, surprised by the instant language comprehension. "I'm James," I replied, slowly lowering my hands. "Just trying to find a town or village, if that's alright."
He eyed me up and down, skepticism etched on his face. "Hmm. Where are you from?"
This was the question I'd dreaded. Saying "Earth" would undoubtedly raise suspicion. My mind raced, searching for a plausible lie.
"Uh… another world," I stammered.
"Which world?" he pressed, his grip tightening on the weapon strapped to his back.
My heart pounded in my chest. "Malith," I blurted out, the first name that popped into my head. "A swamp planet near Terra."
He scrutinized me for what felt like an eternity. "Malith, huh?" he finally muttered, his voice laced with doubt.
There was a tense silence, then slowly, cautiously, he lowered his weapon. The others followed suit, the air around us relaxing a fraction.
"I am Harik," he said, a gruffness in his voice. "If you seek a city, you can follow us. We are on our way to Tartarus."
Relief washed over me. I didn't care about the suspicion in his eyes or the potential dangers of a Warhammer 40k city. Getting myself into a populated area was priority one.
With a wide grin, I accepted his offer. "Thank you, Harik. I appreciate it."
And so, I fell in with this ragtag group of scavengers, their Mukaali kicking up dust as we journeyed towards the looming darkness on the horizon.
We reached the sprawling city of Tartarus as the last rays of sun dipped below the horizon. The imposing sight shattered my expectations. Gone were the towering metal fortresses I'd seen in Warhammer media. Instead, this was a ramshackle collection of buildings, constructed primarily of adobe bricks and crumbling sandstone. It spoke of a harsh existence, where survival trumped aesthetics.
The gate guards, clad in mismatched armor, eyed me and my speeder with suspicion. As they conferred with Harik, I caught snippets of their conversation – "rich," "powerful," "Terra." These words seemed to appease the guards, and they waved us through without further scrutiny.
Following close behind Harik's group, we navigated through the labyrinthine streets. The air was thick with the stench of garbage, sweat, and something metallic I couldn't quite place.
After a few blocks, Harik and his companions stopped in front of a rundown building, a stark contrast to the opulent living quarters I'd imagined for scavengers who'd apparently found a "rich" outsider. They began unloading supplies – food and water, most likely scavenged from the harsh desert beyond.
Disengaging from the speeder, I found myself helping the shortest member of the group, a slight figure clad in patched clothing. Together, we carried three wooden crates into the building, which served as their home. Beside it stood a crude structure that housed their Mukaali mounts.
As I wiped sweat from my brow, a hand landed on my shoulder. Startled, I turned to see the short figure offering me a delicate flower. Its frail beauty seemed out of place in this grimy city.
"Thanks," I said, ruffling their hair playfully. They seemed to appreciate the gesture, shyly returning a smile.
Harik approached, beckoning the short one inside. He then turned his gaze to me, his face etched with a hint of weathered kindness.
"Thanks for the help," he rumbled.
"No problem, Harik," I replied. "If not for you guys, I'd probably be lost in some cave right now."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out three bronze coins. With a rough hand, he pressed them into my palm.
"No, I…" I began to protest, but he cut me off with a raised hand.
"Listen, kid, it's the least I could do," he said gruffly.
"Thank you," I responded, genuinely touched.
He gave a curt nod and disappeared inside his dwelling, leaving me alone on the dimly lit street. Three bronze coins, the first taste of currency in this strange new world. A meager sum, perhaps, but it was a start.
