The effect from the first emotions, and these were, I won't deceive, extremely positive emotions, subsided, leaving behind sober calculation and itching curiosity. I, without hesitation, mentally wished to enter, immerse inside this "system." Surprisingly, the transition proceeded absolutely mundanely, without special effects and fanfares. As if I'd used this interface all my life, and it was as natural an extension of my thoughts as a hand is an extension of the body. But what I saw... Put me, mildly speaking, at a loss.
In the very center of the semi-transparent interface, hovering in weightlessness, was a hammer, though rather its sketch. Not a simple carpentry or metalworking one, but a real blacksmith's hammer. A massive striker of unknown metal, covered with intricate runic patterns that glowed with soft, unearthly light. The handle, wrapped with something resembling reptile skin, was decorated with complex embellishments that seemed to constantly change their shape. It resembled rather a priceless museum exhibit or weapon of some Asgardian god than a working tool. My old, faithful metalworking hammer with ash handle, ideally fitted to my palm over years of work, would look like a pathetic pauper against its background. And yet, in this second I understood I wouldn't trade my reliable tool for any divine weapon. My hammer was real, and this one... this was still just a pretty picture.
Under the hammer flaunted an inscription written in strict but elegant font: "Forge Reality! Cost: 100 OP." I mentally focused on it, and into consciousness immediately flowed a small, even tiny information packet.
Each Forging attempt allows access to technologies from infinite variations of the Multiverse.
And that's... all? So I spend 100 OP, press the virtual hammer and get a "technology"? Too many unknowns. How will I receive it? As a real material prototype that'll fall on my head? Or as an information packet implanted directly into my brain about how to create this technology? Or maybe just a stack of blueprints with which I'll still have to tinker for years, not having necessary resources and equipment? And what kind of technologies are these? Kree bioengineering? Magic of this world, seemingly existing by clearly outlined laws, is that technology or not? The word "technology" itself can be interpreted so broadly that my head spun. Fine, hopefully I'll figure it out over time. For now more questions than answers.
Above the hammer were located three tabs. First, "Forge Reality", was active now. Second read: "Technologies." Anticipating who knows what, I switched to it only to exhale disappointedly. Empty. Absolutely. They even cheaped out on some test technology for example. Eh, cheapskates.
Third tab, "Inventory." Now that's interesting. If it works like in classic LitRPG, this will be not just help, but a real cheat in the real world. Holding my breath from slight excitement, I switched to inventory. Before me spread a field of 5 by 5 cells, twenty-five cells total. Not much, but will do for start. I looked at the old laptop on the desk. Touching it and mentally imagining it moving into one of the cells, I focused on this desire. Before my eyes happened real, pure MAGIC. The laptop didn't disappear in a flash of light, it simply... dissolved, like a mirage, leaving behind only a dusty rectangle on the table's surface.
"Now... I believe," I muttered, shockedly looking at the empty spot, then at the laptop icon forlornly hanging in the inventory's first cell.
I mentally "clicked" on the icon, and a brief description appeared:
"Laptop brand Zuun Electronics. Rarity: Common. Condition: 73/100."
Wow, the inventory also acts as a kind of simplified reference book. Convenient. With a new effort of will I wished to return the laptop to its place. A moment later it materialized on the desk with a quiet, barely audible click. Incredible! One thing, to see system glitches before your eyes, and quite another, when something happens that breaks all laws of physics! This changed absolutely everything. The possibilities that such a pocket warehouse opened were truly limitless: from banal carrying of heavy things to... well, anything!
I dealt with the three main tabs. Remained the last visible element, in the upper right corner of the interface glowed a plate: "0 OP." Local currency necessary for "rolls." Remains to understand the main thing: how do I earn it?
OP (Points), currency necessary for Forging Reality and unlocking technologies. Earned by manifestation of the user's Creator's Spark in the process of creating something.
"Aha... Nothing clear, but very interesting," as they say. Fine, I'm being coy. In general terms it's clear: I need to create something with my own hands. Question is, what exactly falls under this vague concept of "something"? Would, for example... My gaze caught on an old wooden chair in the corner, one of whose legs noticeably sagged. Old habit took over. I approached, turned it over. Just as I thought, the screw had loosened. No tools at hand, but the edge of a coin found in my pocket quite suited as an improvised screwdriver. A couple minutes, and the leg stood perfectly. The familiar feeling of satisfaction from well-done work... and silence. I waited for a system notification, a pop-up message, at least some sign. But it didn't come. Hmm. Seems repair doesn't count as "creation." The system needs something new, created from scratch. This is an important and quite unpleasant clarification.
My gaze wandered around the room searching for inspiration and caught on a student notebook lying on the desk's corner. Drawing or... origami?
Taking the notebook and finding a ballpoint pen in the desk drawer, I first tried to draw something. I wasn't an artist in any sense, as, incidentally, neither was John. After several crooked sketches, receiving no response from the system, I irritably tore out one sheet. Paper. What can be created from paper? The answer came by itself even earlier when I was choosing. Origami. I began folding the familiar classic everyone knows, a crane. Something a bit more complex than a primitive airplane, but not the cunning legendary dragon that only a couple people in the world will assemble. After a couple minutes of unhurried and careful work, the paper crane was ready. It stood crookedly on the desk, pleasing my eye, but my eye was even more pleased by the popped-up system notification!
[Created simple art piece: Origami. Complexity: Minimal. Received +1 OP!]
"Bring the loot!" I couldn't resist the legendary gamer phrase. First point in the piggy bank of my future greatness! Just need to make ninety-nine more such cranes, and I can spin the wheel... more precisely, strike with the hammer! Main thing is to have enough sheets in the notebook.
Motivated by first success, I forgot both about internet research and building plans for the future. The goal was one, simple and clear, earn the first hundred OP. The whole world compressed to my hands meticulously folding paper, and short flashes of system notifications.
[Received +1 OP!]
[Received +1 OP!]
...
[Received +1 OP!]
[Warning! OP earning limit in the area of creating simple Origami exhausted!]