He had just finished explaining to his latest defeated opponent that no, he wasn’t using aim-assist hacks, when a new player approached. The tag read [TheGreatest33] in solid orange, marking them as at least a Platinum-ranked player.

"I’ve watched your games," [TheGreatest33] said. This person’s voice was modulated to sound neutral through the voice filter. "Want to join our group? We’re always looking for talented pilots. With some proper training and better equipment, you could easily hit Gold within a month."

Neville blinked a few times before responding. "Maybe some other time. I’m just here to play for fun."

[TheGreatest33] tilted its head, clearly finding his reply incredulous. But they recovered quickly, maintaining a polite tone. "If you change your mind, you can message me anytime. We have sponsored equipment, organized practice sessions, even some small tournament prize pools—"

A notification chimed, cutting through [TheGreatest33]’s recruitment pitch. The friend request from [TheGreatest33] appeared in Neville’s HUD.

Neville promptly declined it. "No, thank you."

"Wait, can’t you even—"

Another chime cut through the conversation, but this one was different.

[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: ROOKIE SENSATION]

Win five consecutive matches on your first day

Defeat opponents ranked Silver or higher: 5/5

Reward: Premium Mecha Customization Pack

Neville’s eyes widened. He stood up abruptly, barely remembering his manners. "Got to go."

Before [TheGreatest33] could respond, Neville initiated the logout from the public waiting area. The space dissolved around him, and he was transferred to his personal ’home base’ in the game.

The home base looked surprisingly detailed as a mini version of a space station hangar. It was a medium-sized room with metal walls, decent lighting, and a mecha loading station in the center. There was a circular platform with mechanical arms and diagnostic equipment surrounding it.

The stairs led to what looked like a small apartment area above the hangar. There were control panels lined up on one wall, displaying various customization and upgrade options.

Of course, everything should be customizable.

Want different wall colors? Buy a paint pack.

Want better lighting? Purchase an upgrade.

Want decorative posters or furniture for the apartment section? Open your wallet.

Want to customize your mecha to certain driving styles? Pay up, there was more in the VIP pack.

What was even more mind-blowing was that you could just create mechas and sell them in the game’s market. People who liked the stats and features could buy it.

What was even crazier was that this mecha loading station, or rather this whole personal space, could be expanded.

You could add more rooms to invite other players.

You could expand more mecha loading stations to display several mechas you own.

If this place was already insane, what more of the ’guild’ that [TheGreatest33] was talking about? It should be much better than this.

But for a poor, free-to-play player like Neville, he didn’t plan to change anything in it.

The default setup was perfectly functional. He would just play until his current mecha reached its limits, tinkering here and there to enhance his piloting and tactical skills. After all, as an office worker, he had no actual need to master mecha piloting beyond a casual stress reliever.

"FREE PREMIUM Customization Pack?" he said aloud, genuinely surprised.

This was really a godsend reward. Even though Neville had no plans to spend real money on this game, he still didn’t want his mecha to look exactly the same as every other generic beginner mecha. There was something disheartening about looking like everyone else, about having zero personal identity in what you own.

[Ooh, I’ve already checked it!]

Shelly squealed in excitement.

[You can practically use everything except for the VIP options. But it’s ONLY usable for ONE mecha, and once you hit save, it’ll be the end. BUT you can modify your mecha however you want without a time limit. AND there’s no expiration, so you don’t actually need to do it now.]

Shelly began to read the list of things that he could actually do.

[You can modify your mecha’s appearance and color scheme. You can also customize weapon loadouts and even add special ability modules. However, the expansion for additional slots was in VIP, so you can’t modify a lot.]

Hundreds of options spread across multiple categories greeted him upon opening the customization interface.

There were paint schemes ranging from military camouflage to flashy racing stripes. There were also armor configurations that changed the silhouette without affecting stats. It also displayed weapon systems that altered appearance but kept the same damage values. There were also additions like exhaust trail effects and energy blade colors.

Neville lost himself in the possibilities. He started playing with the color scheme, scrolling through options.

If it were too bright, he would stand out. If it were too dark, he would look like someone trying hard to be edgy. He needed something in the middle...

His eyes caught on a particular combination: sleek black armor as the primary color with silver accents highlighting the joints and edges. The silver traced along the limbs like veins, creating an organic flow that contrasted beautifully with the matte black plates.

It reminded him of Lucky’s colors. There was a subtle silver shimmer when light caught them at the right angle.

Neville smiled and selected the option.

Next came the armor configuration. He chose a streamlined profile, sacrificing some of the bulky shoulder plating for a more aerodynamic design. It wouldn’t affect actual performance, but he preferred the look of speed over the look of tankiness. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

For the weapons, he customized the lightsaber sword to emit a blue-white blade. The light pulse gun got a subtle silver highlight along the barrel. He added a custom effect to the triple-shot projectile laser missile launcher on his shoulder that made it unfold with a more dramatic mechanical sequence.

Finally, he added small cosmetic details: exhaust trails that burned blue-white instead of standard orange, and shield effects that shimmered when hit.

Shelly whistled. [Way to go, host!]

"It’s aesthetically pleasing." He said with a smile.

Neville was just adding the finishing touches, like adjusting the exact shade of silver on the joint accents, when a notification appeared:

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

You’ve been playing for 6 hours. We recommend you log out now as a first-time user.

Extended sessions may cause neural adaptation lag.

"Hm?"

Neville checked the time display and nearly had a heart attack. What had felt like maybe two hours in the virtual world had actually been six hours in real time. Even accounting for the time dilation effects of the virtual pod, he would still be in it for over two hours.

"Oh no!" Neville immediately initiated the logout sequence, panic flooding through him. "Lucky still needed to eat! What if something happened while I was gone? How could I—"

The virtual world faded smoothly until only darkness remained. Then real sensation returned. He could still feel the cool feeling of the breathable liquid on his body. But now he could hear the gentle hum of the pod’s systems.

The lid opened smoothly with a soft hiss of equalizing pressure. Neville sat up abruptly, expecting to find disaster. Instead, he found Lucky exactly where he had last seen him.

Lucky was coiled on the bed like a massive black-scaled cat, apparently having enjoyed a very satisfying long nap. Its breathing was deep and even, its snake body rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm.

Lucky raised his head at the noise of the pod opening, silver eyes blinking sleepily. His tongue flicked out in what might have been a greeting or a complaint about being disturbed.

Neville rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the pod with slightly shaky legs. The nutrient solution had kept his body stable and prevented muscle atrophy, but he still wasn’t used to lying on it for long hours at once. There was a moment of disconnection from his brain and his body that failed to remember that there was gravity.

He padded over to the bed on unsteady feet and reached out to squeeze Lucky’s body gently, checking for any signs of distress or hunger.

Neville pressed his forehead against Lucky’s snout and whined, "I could have been gone for days, and you wouldn’t have noticed, would you? Some companion you are."

Lucky’s response was to yawn, displaying an impressive array of fangs that could probably bite through his flesh in one shot. Then it coiled the tip of its tail around Neville’s wrist in a gesture that might have been affectionate or possessive.

[Since you already know how to use it, I’ll go ahead now,] Shelly announced and vanished without waiting for his reply.

Not that Neville would have bothered to reply anyway. He was too busy conducting a thorough check, making sure nothing was amiss, while he was in the pod for a long time. His light brain showed no urgent messages from work.

Everything was fine.

Neville let out a his breath and his stomach growled. The nutrient solution could keep one alive, but did nothing for the psychological need to eat real food. He went ahead and filled his and Lucky’s stomach for the day.