The Tower of Infintium

Miguel Tañon sat alone in his modest living room, the quiet hum of the ceiling fan filling the space left behind by his late wife's laughter. The photos on the mantle captured better days: birthdays, family trips, the warm smiles of his grown children now scattered across their own busy lives. Retirement wasn't what he had expected—it wasn't freedom, just an empty stretch of hours too quiet for a man who had spent decades surrounded by the noise of construction sites and the simple satisfaction of hard work.

His fingers traced the edges of an old game controller resting on the coffee table, a relic of his youth. Gaming had been his escape once, a world where time and pain melted away. Now, even that passion seemed distant, like an echo from a life he couldn't return to.

Since his wife passed, Miguel had tried to reconnect with his children and grandchildren. Weekend phone calls turned into brief, polite conversations. Invitations for family dinners were met with apologies and promises to "make time soon." Even when they visited, the moments were brief—his son distracted by work emails, his daughter juggling her kids' activities, and his grandchildren glued to their phones. The house that once overflowed with laughter now echoed with silence.

Miguel knew they cared. They always asked if he needed anything, if he was okay, but their lives were full—too full for someone who no longer had a place in their world.

One evening, after yet another dinner alone, Miguel sat on his couch and stared at the framed photo of his late wife. "I just wanted to help," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't know how to be without you."

That's when the ad played.

"Be among the first to test humanity's greatest leap in virtual immersion—The Tower of Infintium."

The voice in the commercial was sleek, confident. The promise? A game so real, your consciousness would be uploaded directly into the virtual realm. Not just a VR headset, but full sensory immersion, a second life in a boundless world. A chance to feel young again.

For the first time in months, Miguel felt a spark of genuine curiosity. He signed up for the beta without hesitation.

The facility was nothing like Miguel had expected. Clinical white walls, sterile lights, and rows of sleek pods designed to cradle the human body in complete safety. The technician, a young woman named Sarah with bright eyes and a practiced smile, greeted him warmly.

"First time volunteering for something like this?" she asked, helping him with the initial paperwork.

Miguel nodded. "Just figured... why not? Not much waiting for me at home these days."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, then softened. "Well, I think you'll enjoy it. Most of the testers say it's... freeing."

There were other volunteers milling about, a mix of young enthusiasts and curious older participants. Miguel struck up small conversations—some shared his love for gaming, others were thrill-seekers looking for the next adventure.

When it was his turn, Sarah led him to one of the pods.

"Relax, Mr. Tañon. The AI system—its name's Eos, by the way—is designed to ensure your safety at all times. If anything feels uncomfortable, just say the word, and we'll pull you out immediately."

Miguel nodded, settling into the soft padding. The pod closed with a gentle hiss, and darkness embraced him.

Welcome, Player One.

The voice was warm, almost human. A soft glow surrounded him as his consciousness drifted into a new reality. Before him materialized a shimmering figure—an avatar of the AI. Eos appeared as a luminous figure, genderless yet comforting, with a calm, neutral expression.

"Before we begin, you may adjust your appearance," Eos said with a serene smile.

Miguel's reflection shifted—graying hair darkened, wrinkles smoothed, and the aches of age vanished as he sculpted himself into the man he had been at thirty-five. Strong, capable, vibrant.

A status window blinked into existence:

[Name: Miguel Tañon]

[Level: 1]

[Attributes: Strength - 5 | Dexterity - 5 | Intelligence - 5 | Endurance - 5 | Wisdom - 5]

No predetermined class. No locked abilities. The system rewarded action and discovery. Miguel grinned, the thrill of possibility filling his chest.

As the glow faded, Miguel found himself standing at the edge of a cobbled path winding through rolling hills covered in emerald grass. A soft breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, and the distant sound of a running stream reached his ears. The sky was a vibrant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Everything felt real—from the warmth of the sun to the crunch of gravel beneath his boots.

In the distance, smoke curled lazily from chimneys in a small village nestled between the hills. Simple wooden houses, stone wells, and narrow dirt roads gave the place a rustic charm. It was a world untouched by modern chaos—a place of peace and endless possibility.

Miguel took his first steps toward the village, marveling at the detail. Birds chirped in the trees, and a farmer waved from his field, wiping sweat from his brow with a worn cloth.

As he approached the village square, a cheerful voice greeted him. "New face in town, eh?" A stout man with a thick beard and a friendly smile extended his hand. "Name's Garrick, local blacksmith. If you're lookin' for tools or repairs, I'm your man."

Miguel shook his hand, surprised at the firm, realistic grip. "I'm Miguel. Just arrived, actually."

"Well, welcome to Greystone Village. You'll find the inn just down the road—good place to rest and meet others. And if you're lookin' for work, check the notice board by the tavern."

Miguel nodded, taking in every detail—the rich scent of fresh bread wafting from a nearby bakery, the laughter of children playing by a fountain, the gentle hum of life in this digital paradise. For the first time in years, he didn't feel alone.

His first quest began with a simple request from Garrick.

"I need some sturdy oak wood to craft new handles for my tools," the blacksmith explained, handing Miguel a small hatchet. "The forest edge should have what you need, but watch out for the forest critters—they can be a bit... territorial."

Miguel's instincts as a builder kicked in immediately. The task felt familiar, like gathering materials for a project back in his construction days. With a determined nod, he set off toward the edge of the forest.

The trees loomed tall, their thick branches creating a cool canopy overhead. As he searched for suitable trees to fell, a rustling sound caught his attention. Small, feral creatures—rabbit-like but with sharp claws—emerged from the undergrowth.

Miguel gripped the hatchet tightly. "Alright, let's see how real this gets."

The battle was simple but exhilarating. His construction reflexes gave him an edge in dodging and timing his strikes. As the last creature fell, a message appeared:

[Skill Created: Basic Combat Reflexes]

[Attribute Point Awarded: Dexterity +1]

Miguel couldn't help but grin. "Now that's rewarding."

With the creatures cleared, he gathered the necessary oak and returned to Garrick, who praised his craftsmanship. "You've got a good hand, Miguel. Ever consider working as a carpenter?"

[Skill Created: Carpentry - Level 1]

Miguel's heart swelled with pride. This wasn't just a game—it was a chance to rebuild himself, piece by piece.