SmilinKujo
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Making Game: CH 16 – The First Harvest
🕑 Added 2025-09-23 10:50:50 +0000 UTCGale Amanar, a Solar of the Vanguard path, stepped into his luxurious apartment. The door hissed shut behind him, sealing out the noise of the city. He tossed his bag onto a minimalist couch and carefully placed his modular power armor onto its designated bracket, the charging ports clicking into place with a satisfying hum. He slumped onto the couch and let out a long, weary exhale, the tension of his latest deployment finally leaving him.
"Haaa... finally home," he muttered to the empty room.
He sat up and activated his holo-television. He surfed through the channels. News reports on Outer Rim skirmishes. Talk shows interviewing famous Solars. Re-runs of historical documentaries about the Accord's glorious victories. It was all the same. Solars, Solars, and more Solars. He was sick of it.
Giving up, he grabbed his heliopad and tapped open the Heliostore, browsing the game section. It was just as bad. Legion Assault IV. Battle for Xylos. The Nullbreaker Chronicles. They were all high-fidelity simulations of the life he was already living. He was tired of war.
Then, a simple icon caught his eye. It was not a gleaming blaster or an exploding ship. It was just a purple vegetable. He tapped on it. Stardew Valley. He did not remember any battle taking place in a valley called Stardew. He looked at the promotional videos and screenshots. They were... strange. Blocky. Colorful.
"A game about farming, huh?" he said to himself, a flicker of curiosity cutting through his exhaustion. "Well, let's try."
The game downloaded in seconds. He tapped play.
A simple, pixelated logo for "Round Table Studios" appeared. "Oh," Gale said, leaning forward. "Interesting style. Never seen this before."
He chose his preferred farm land, going with the default Obelia II, then moved on to character creation. The little pixel sprite was surprisingly charming, and he took his time perfecting it, meticulously choosing a hairstyle and outfit. He used his own name, Gale, named his farm "The Respite," and for his favorite thing, he simply typed in "Quiet." Then, he started the game.
He watched the simple, heartwarming intro. "Oh man," he said with a soft, wistful smile. "I would want my grandpa to give me land, too."
His character got off the bus and was greeted by a cheerful, red-headed woman named Robin, the town carpenter. After the brief tutorial, he walked onto his new farm. His smile vanished. "What a mess," he muttered, looking at the overgrown plot littered with rocks, weeds, and fallen logs.
He equipped the sickle he had been given and started cleaning up, the simple, repetitive action surprisingly satisfying. He then used the hoe to till the soil, and carefully planted the fifteen parsnip seeds he had been given. He stood back, looking at his small, neat patch of dirt.
"Parsnip," he said to himself. "What kind of food is that?" He called out, "Servo."
His sleek, silver Compadre floated silently into the room. "Yes, Gale?"
"Do you know a plant called a 'parsnip'?"
Servo's optical sensor pulsed as it searched the Accord database. "I have found one entry. It was a root vegetable, now classified as extinct, native to a planet in the Outer Rims."
"Hmm," Gale murmured, his interest piqued. "The creator is from the Outer Rims, huh?"
He continued to play, exploring the small, charming town. As he walked past the saloon, he accidentally misclicked, his character interacting with a trash can. One of the other villagers walking by stopped. A dialogue box popped up. "Eewww... stop that!"
"Hey, it was a misclick, damn it!" Gale grumbled at the screen.
Time flew by. The sun set outside his real-world window, but in Stardew Valley, the days and nights cycled in a peaceful, productive rhythm. He was completely absorbed. He was now on his fifteenth day in the game.
"Gale," Servo's voice cut through his concentration. "It is time to eat."
"Oh," Gale said, his eyes still glued to the screen as he watered his growing crops. "Put an order in for the usual takeout, can you?"
"Noted," Servo replied.
Half an hour later, a food delivery drone arrived at the door. "Servo, get that for me, please!" Gale shouted, in the middle of a tense fishing mini-game.
Servo retrieved the food and placed it on the table beside him. "You should stop playing the game when you are eating," the Compadre advised.
Gale did not even look up. "Shut up. You are not my mom."
…
Dorian woke up in the evening.
Sleeping through the day was its own special kind of hell. A thick, groggy tiredness clung to his body, and his neck ached from the awkward angle he'd fallen asleep in on the couch. He cracked it, a series of pops providing a small, temporary relief.
He closed his eyes. System.
The simple panel did not just appear. It erupted in a silent, dazzling display of pixelated fireworks that startled him, making him flinch back.
"What the hell?" he whispered.
The fireworks faded, replaced by new text. {Congratulations! User has unlocked [Banner] and [Profile] functionalities.}
He tapped Profile first. He had been expecting the banner, but the profile was a complete unknown. The panel expanded, and a seemingly endless waterfall of text began to scroll by. It was a list of every skill he possessed, from the mundane to the profound.
[Skill: Cooking - Proficiency: Adept]
[Skill: Storytelling - Proficiency: Adept]
[Skill: Singing - Proficiency: Competent]
[Skill: Piano - Proficiency: Competent]
[Skill: Violin - Proficiency: Adept]
[Skill: Accord OS Coding - Proficiency: Expert]
[Skill: Pre-Accord OS Coding - Proficiency: Master (Mnemonic Echo)]
[Skill: Dishwashing - Proficiency: Competent]
He stopped the scroll, overwhelmed. "Okay, this interface is not intuitive at all," he grumbled.
The moment he finished the thought, the panel glitched, the text dissolving into a blur of pixels before re-forming itself into a neat, sorted list. At the top were the skills he had used the most in the last thirty days: Coding, Hardware Knowledge, Cooking, Singing, Composing.
"Okay, better," he murmured, narrowing his eyes. 'So what can I do?' He saw an empty space on the side of the new layout, a placeholder filled only with three question marks [???]. He decided it was too weird for him right now. There was nothing for him to do in this panel.
He backed out and tapped Banner.
A new, rectangular panel appeared, this one complete with a beautiful, pixel-art illustration of a sun-drenched farm. Below it were three buttons.
[1 Gacha Pull: 10,000 Resonance]
[10 Gacha Pulls: 100,000 Resonance]
[100 Gacha Pulls: 1,000,000 Resonance]
"What the fuck," he breathed, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Why is it so expensive?"
He shot up from the couch, ran into his room, and scrambled for his notebook, his mind racing. "It is glitching. How? Let's see..." He jotted down everything he had just experienced. He looked at the Resonance count on the panel, which had been steadily climbing from his song's slow-burn success. 30,978,990.
He looked at the Gacha cost again. An idea, born of pure frustration, sparked in his mind. He looked at the shimmering panel, focused his will on the Resonance count, and swiped his hand through the hologram with the clear, concise intention of changing the decimal point.
The number changed. 30,978.99.
He froze. He jotted it down in his notebook. ‘So it is just visuals? I can have full control of the panel?’ He had to test it again. He focused on the awkward, jumbled layout of the profile screen he had seen moments before, and swiped his hand through the air with the intention of changing it. The panel flickered and re-formed into a new, more elegant design.
Dorian's mind reeled. "Wait... I have been swiping all around this thing the whole time." He held his hand up again, and this time, he swiped through the panel with no intention at all, just a simple, physical motion.
It did not change.
He scribbled frantically in his notebook. ‘Control is tied to user intent.’
He leaned back in his chair, the initial excitement gone, replaced by a profound, chilling unease. This was supposed to be a big day, the day he unlocked the Stardew Valley banner. Instead, he was hit with more questions about his own existence.
‘What is this System? Who gave it to me? And what is the extent of my control over it?’
He did not believe he was the only one with this power. There was a big possibility that there was someone else like him out there. He ran his hands through his hair, the familiar, terrifying spiral of overthinking taking hold once more.
A soft, hesitant tap on his shoulder woke him from his spiraling thoughts. It was Marcus.
Dorian spun his chair around, a warm smile instantly replacing the frantic energy on his face. "Oh, hey, bud."
"Are you okay?" Marcus asked, his small face etched with concern.
"Of course I am okay," Dorian said, his voice a little too bright.
"Okay," Marcus replied, unconvinced. "It is just... you have not made dinner, and it is almost the time you usually start."
Dorian glanced at the clock. Sure enough, it was that time. "Thank you for reminding me," he said, ruffling his brother's hair. "Go on back. Let me wash up for a bit."
"Okay," Marcus said, then left the room.
Dorian looked up at the silent, shimmering panel that had been staring at him this whole time. He steeled himself, his earlier confusion giving way to a new, exciting purpose. He swiped his hand through the panel, his intention clear. The Gacha costs on the banner instantly followed the decimal change in his Resonance count. The new prices were 10, 100, and 1000.
He let out a long sigh of relief. "It is better this way, I think." He took a deep, calming breath. "Let's do the one hundred pull, to commemorate the first unlocked banner, shall we?"
He tapped the button. A blinding flash of light erupted from within the panel, so bright he had to shield his eyes. Then, a chaotic explosion of hundreds of small, pixelated icons burst forth, scattering across his room like digital confetti.
"Oh god, this is so unintuitive," he groaned. He swiped his hand through the air, dragging the scattered icons, his will focused and clear. They instantly snapped into a neat, grid-like panel, sorting themselves by category. "Do I have to do everything by myself around here?" he muttered.
He looked at his first bountiful Gacha results. There were stacks of raw materials like wood and stone. There were seeds for strange, pixelated plants. There was a new [Skill: Basic Farming] icon that he did not have time to investigate right now. And then, there was the one thing he had hoped for most. Fresh, raw, real food.
He sorted through the loot, his eyes wide with a hungry, desperate excitement. He selected all of the raw food items and tapped a new button that had appeared: Materialize.
For a split second, reality seemed to twist and shimmer around him. Then, with a soft, final thump, a bounty of impossible riches appeared on his floor. A thick, perfectly marbled steak. A bunch of vibrant green asparagus. Fresh, earthy potatoes. A bulb of garlic. A stick of real butter.
Dorian's eyes lit up. He could finally make and taste food from his past life. He hurriedly scooped all of it into his arms and rushed to the kitchen.
Leo, seeing the impossible bounty, floated over, its optical sensor blinking in confusion. "Dorian. Where did you get that?"
"Long story, Leo," Dorian said, his voice filled with a giddy, unrestrained joy. "Help me sort these for now. Place the things we do not use in the cold box."
Leo began to help, its manipulator arms carefully handling the precious ingredients, but it was still processing. "Is it as long as the entire night?"
Dorian chuckled. "I will get back to that. I swear I will tell you the details. I will take a raincheck on that, yeah? Now please, help me. I want to surprise Lyra and Marcus with it."
Leo silently followed Dorian's commands. For the first time in months, Dorian smiled a pure, uncomplicated smile as he worked in the kitchen. It felt like home. Cooking with these ingredients, the smell of real garlic, the feel of a fresh potato in his hand... it was not just food blocks and synth-meat anymore. It was real.
The aroma, rich, savory, and utterly alien, was the first thing to reach them. It crept out from under Dorian's door and wafted into the their bedroom, a scent so complex and wonderful it stopped the Sunday cartoon in its tracks. Lyra and Marcus looked up from their Heliopad, their noses twitching.
They followed the smell to the kitchen, a magnetic pull they could not resist. They found Dorian at the stove, a look of intense, joyful concentration on his face as he spooned a rich, brown sauce over three plates.
"Dorian?" Lyra asked, her voice a hushed whisper, as if afraid to break the spell. "What did you make?"
Dorian turned, a wide, triumphant grin on his face. "Oh, it is not ready yet. You guys are ruining the surprise."
Marcus's and Lyra's eyes lit up, wide with anticipation.
Dorian laughed, a genuine, happy sound. "Sit down, for now. It is about to be done, okay?"
They scrambled to their seats at the small dinner table, their eyes never leaving him. They watched, captivated, as he carefully placed a vibrant green vegetable next to a scoop of creamy white paste. And then, the main event. With a pair of tongs, he lifted a thick, perfectly seared piece of meat from the pan, its surface glistening, and placed it on each plate.
As he set the meals down in front of them, they stared, shocked into silence. The meat was not the usual gray, uniform block of synth-protein. This was different. It was dark, textured, and looked... real.
"Where did you find a synthesizer that can produce this kind of meat?" Lyra finally asked, her voice filled with awe.
Dorian laughed. "It is real meat."
Marcus and Lyra became even more shocked, their mouths slightly agape. They looked at the creamy mashed potatoes, the tender-crisp asparagus, the rich, savory gravy. It was all new to them, a feast from a world they had never known.
Dorian chuckled, his heart swelling with a warmth that had nothing to do with the stove. He sat down with them, taking on the role of a gentle guide.
"Okay," he began, picking up his own knife and fork. "So this," he said, gesturing to the steak, "you cut it like this." He sliced off a small, perfect piece. "Just a little bite." He helped Marcus, whose small hands were clumsy with the unfamiliar utensils. "And this," he said, pointing to the potatoes, "is a potato, but it is all soft and creamy. Try it with a bit of this brown sauce, the gravy." He then pointed to the asparagus. "And this is a vegetable. It is a bit crunchy."
He watched as they took their first, hesitant bites. He saw their eyes go wide, a look of pure, unadulterated shock and delight washing over their faces. It was an explosion of flavor in a lifetime of bland, single-note nutrient paste. He saw Marcus take another, bigger bite, a small, happy hum escaping him. He saw Lyra, his serious, pragmatic Lyra, close her eyes for a moment, just savoring the taste.
Dorian did not even touch his own food. He just sat there, watching them, a single, happy tear tracing a path down his cheek. This was it. This was the reason for all of it. This was the first true harvest.
⋘ 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒂.. .⋙
🎮: Stardwey Valley: ██████████ 100%
🎬: -
♬: - Your Name – Elton John (ch.9)
Comments
Kujo
its speculation he had, its a big universe, is his own way to try to ground himself down i'd say
Samuel S.
"A thick, perfectly marbled steak. A bunch of vibrant green asparagus. Fresh, earthy potatoes. A bulb of garlic. A stick of real butter." Hmm are their stomaches even able to process real food after eating food Blocks and co for generations?
Samuel S.
"There was a big possibility that there was someone else like him out there." Oh good No, please Just No. It Always get chaotic and boring with multiple system owners...
