It’s probably the single biggest criticism that reviewers have been hitting the game with. Sure, you can buy in-game currency with real-world currency and pay to get things upgraded. But where’s the fun in that? Also, some of us have bills to pay, and I’m not about to drop fifty dollars on a thousand space bucks or whatever.
And for me, all this extra work I now have to do kinda ruins the fun, no matter how much it adds to the so-called story our streamers get to experience. The “narrative,” as Rebekah likes to say. Girl gets taken out by a bunch of online trolls and struggles and wrestles her way back to the top, to seek out justice and revenge.
Whatever you say, Rebekah. I’m more interested in seeking out some snacks, and leveling up just enough to get back in the game properly, so I can keep the sponsors interested. Because this? Level grinding and trying to climb back out? This is not super interesting. It’s downright boring. Especially since I’ve already done it once.
I lift my head and survey the prompt again.
Would you like to claim and name this planet?
[YES] [NO]
I reach out and press the glowing Yes on the display in front of me. Immediately, a red light begins flashing, illuminating my cockpit, alarms sounding loudly. I wince and instinctively turn down the volume, but my eyes widen when a new message appears on the display.
Someone is challenging your claim.
Will you contest it?
[YES] [NO]
10...9...8...
“What the...?” I say to myself. I’ve never seen this before in Reclaim the Sun—I didn’t even know such a thing was possible in the game. I scramble to start recording whatever it is—Rebekah will definitely kill me if I don’t. I want to text her, tell her to turn the stream on or at least check out what’s happening, but I’m pretty sure she’s in class, and that countdown timer isn’t leaving me with many options. Besides, it’s not like a lot of people are standing by to potentially tune in. I haven’t announced myself or anything. And even if they are, I’m not about to let some trolls come in and ruin this for me.
As my little ship rockets toward the orange planet, I spot another ship coasting a few feet in front of me and off to the side, its colors simple and plain, a silver chassis with no name. Probably a newbie, just getting their feet wet. Then again, I shouldn’t make assumptions. From the outside, I probably look like a newb myself.
I debate breaking off and letting them have the planet, because if they are a newb, they could probably use the resources—and if they’re a troll, I am in zero condition to battle someone—but I’m just too damn curious about this contested-claim business. I wonder if anyone else has arrived at a planet at the same time yet. With all the trillions of planets in the virtual galaxy, it feels impossible that this is even happening, but it also seems unlikely that I’m the first one to discover this feature.
The sky erupts with a loud boom when my ship breaks through the unnamed planet’s atmosphere, the other ship right nearby. As the game guides me down toward the surface, the barren landscape comes into focus through the clouds, with long stretches of orange and yellow sand coasting out far and wide, and small dirty beige mountains popping up along the horizon. I catch a few specks of green with what looks like a bit of blue farther out when my ship’s landing gear starts to lower, the body of my vessel rumbling as the entire thing slows down and nestles onto the ground with a satisfying crunch.
I note that the air is breathable outside, and the cockpit opens with a hiss. A young man steps out of the other ship, and I scramble to do the same, small gusts of wind and dust blowing in my face.
Sand and dirt dance around my visor as I walk swiftly toward him. At first, he seems fixated on something in the distance, but then he looks up and starts spinning about.
“What...what are you doing?” I ask, talking into my headset. I reach down and pull out my blaster, my finger on the trigger.
“Oh!” he exclaims, no longer spinning around. “Damn it.” I hear some scuffling, the sharp clap of something falling against a hard surface, then someone giggling and...the sounds of arguing?
He abruptly takes off running toward his ship, and I stare after him, mouth agape. Is he abandoning the challenge for the planet? But no, he keeps running, his body pressing against the side of his ship, legs moving but not going anywhere. The effect is hilarious, and I wonder if his computer is glitching out. Then he stops, turns, and looks at me. He takes out a blaster, his movements slow and awkward. He’s got to be playing with a keyboard and mouse.
“Sorry. My little sister jumped on my lap,” he explains, his gun aimed at me.
I smile and level my blaster in his direction as well. “Any idea how this works?” I ask, taking a step forward.
“Not a clue,” he says cautiously. “I don’t suppose I could just let you have this planet, and maybe you’d consider not exploding me and my ride?”
“Perhaps,” I venture, but I’m staying ready to fire, just in case he tries anything.
“Or we could split some resources?” I can almost hear the shrug in his voice. “Look, I’m just here to have fun. I’m not really a player versus player kinda guy.”
“Yeah, same. Definitely not here for PvP,” I agree, though that’s far from the truth. I want whatever is on this planet. I want to level up—no, I need to level up. I need to get my stream back and running, and I need my player ready to run defense against those assholes, should they come back. And if I’m not streaming, if I’m not engaging with my audience...there are no sponsors. There’s no money. And right now, all anyone wants to see is Reclaim the Sun, not play-throughs of Halo or Call of Duty or anything.
And for that, I’m still thinking about shooting him.
He puts away his blaster and raises his arms in surrender. “So...are you going to shoot me, then?” he asks.
I put the gun away.
“Awesome. I’m Aaron.”
“Hi,” I say.
We stand there, studying each other. He looks like a lot of the other people I’ve seen up close in the game, save for the fact that he’s chosen to make his player’s skin brown. He looks a bit like a male version of my player, actually, especially with his dark black hair, but his eyes are a light brown instead of green. There’s a thick scar running down his face, from his forehead, across his eye, and down onto his cheek, and I wonder for a moment if he looks the same way in person and what might have happened to him.
“So which way?” he asks, turning around in a circle. I feel the urge to pull out my blaster again at the sight of his back, but shake it off, immediately feeling a bit guilty.
“I saw some green off to the west, I think?” I shrug. “We could get in our ships and hover over there, see what resources are worth scrounging up.”