After walking around for a while and asking passersby about my apartment to avoid losing it, I finally made my way back home. Once inside, I began to put things back in order.
First and foremost, and this is by far the most important: I'm certain I'm no longer in France—or even in the world I come from. It's the spring of '96, after the disaster.
"Ah yes, the disaster..." I muttered to myself.
I don't know the full details, but from what people have told me, the world changed drastically at that moment. Apparently, it started with small climatic changes, which escalated until animals began to mutate, spreading terror everywhere.
From what I've been told, today's world holds about 2 billion people. That's understandable, given that nearly 70% of the planet has been completely destroyed or is controlled by more or less intelligent monsters. These areas are too dangerous and costly to retake, so the remaining cities have had to adapt.
Those that weren't destroyed built walls over 20 meters high to protect themselves at the onset of the disaster. But even those walls proved insufficient against some monsters, leading to the development of advanced technology, such as a membrane on the walls that repels monsters—powered by monster cores.
Arriving at my so-called apartment, I frantically searched for the door I hadn't locked.
"Number 117," I muttered, staring at my new door number. "This number brings back memories... Maybe I could make movies or write books..." I mused as I locked the door.
I poured myself a glass of water and lay back in bed, watching the last light of dusk fade away, my mind swirling with thoughts of my old world.
I hoped it was just a dream, and that I'd wake up the next day in my nine-square-meter room in the middle of Paris. Still lost in thoughts of my old life, I drifted off to sleep without even realizing it, still in my clothes.
I awoke at dawn and murmured softly, "So it wasn't a dream... Am I dead? Maybe..."
I sighed. "I hope I didn't make my family suffer too much..." Finally accepting that I might never see them again, I sighed deeply.
Looking around the minimalist room, I noticed a laptop I hadn't seen before. Wanting to forget my troubles, I wondered if it had any entertainment on it, like video games.
Sitting comfortably in the chair, I opened the laptop and pressed the power button. When I reached the home screen, it greeted me with a padlock icon and the word "PASSWORD" below it.
"Great, I have no idea," I sighed, looking around for clues. I tried a few passwords of my own, but none of them worked.
Just as I was about to give up, I noticed a button with a fingerprint logo. Hoping it would work, I pressed it, and the computer instantly booted up to a blank screen.
"Well, is there at least a browser and internet?" I mumbled to myself, clicking on an oval logo representing a fox. The FastFox browser opened with a search bar.
"What could help me?" I wondered aloud. "Let's look for some games—maybe there are some interesting ones out there," I said, trying to escape my current rather shaky reality.
I searched for titles like GTA, Red Dead Redemption, and other games I'd loved, like Pacific Drive and Project Zomboid, but nothing came up.
I did, however, find one platform that seemed to have survived the disaster: "Steam, really? Let's see what's on it," I muttered.
"Pretty pathetic..." I thought as I browsed the most popular games of the moment. Despite their advanced graphics, the games looked bland, focusing more on trading simulations and multiplayer FPS.
But then, a platform selection tab caught my eye. "FD, what's that..." I muttered. Clicking on it, I discovered that it was FullDive technology similar to Sword Art Online, which allowed total immersion in the game.
"This is huge! Does it actually exist in this world?" I exclaimed, excited at the prospect of entering a video game. Apparently, the FullDive system was quite accessible, as long as you could afford the cheapest, lowest E-rank cores.
"I really need to try this out, but the games don't seem to be very varied. Most are simulations, like running a gas station, farm, or supermarket. Nothing really exciting... I don't know if it's worth it," I said, disappointed by their level of creativity—or maybe they were just limited by resources...
Just as I was about to search for something more interesting than games, a loud noise made me jump. A translucent black screen appeared with white text asking:
~Do you want to start the Dimension Developer System? Yes/No?~
I stared at the screen and, almost involuntarily, said, "Oh fuck, this is getting great."