Friday nights at the local gaming hub had their rituals. Tonight was no different. Sixteen players crowded around the tables, shuffling cards, debating strategies, and preparing for the booster draft.
James idly shuffled his deck, that nagging sense gnawing at him again. Something felt wrong or missing. He hoped that tonight’s draft would finally spark the idea he needed.
He enjoyed drafting. It forced him to min-max strategy from what was available, not just what he wished was there. He could read the table too, learning from what was not taken and adjusting on the fly.
Booster draft rules were simple: three packs, fifteen cards each. Pick one, pass the rest. Left, right, left again. The rhythm was mechanical, but the thrill never faded. Maybe this would be the night he finally built the perfect deck.
The booster draft was part of the Commander trilogy set, and all three had wildly different themes. The first pack showed the four seasons with various natural predators, except fantasy versions like werewolves, dire hounds, and metallic boars. Across the skies, drakes flew.
The second pack flipped the theme to science fiction. Ground troops wore thick, fully enclosed power armour, pulse rifles blasting. Massive spaceships flew along the top, small only due to perspective.
The final pack combined both into a chaotic mishmash of the two.
James always stopped to appreciate the artwork before opening a pack. So much creativity was put into something that would be opened and thrown away.
When given the signal to start, he tore open his first pack, the artwork forgotten. The packet split under his practiced motions. Lifting it to his nose, he breathed in the sharp scent of ink and cardstock.
Tradition completed, James pulled the cards out and looked at the first one. The first card was always a common, unless he was lucky and pulled a foil.
When the card glimmered with the sheen of foil, James’s excitement quickly rose.
It was a diamond-bordered card, and a Commander card to boot.
And it, no, they were pictures of himself.
A moment later, the excitement transformed into confusion.
The name at the top read: Commander – James Cooper
On the left: Earth-James. Dark brown hair that refused to stay neat, hazel-green eyes dulled by the glow of too many screens. A lanky frame lost inside a hoodie and jeans, posture slouched, chin softened by a touch of fat.
On the right: what looked like an AI rendition. The same face, sharpened. The jawline tighter, as if someone had quietly erased that hint of softness under his chin. Hazel eyes caught the light instead of losing it. The hair looked like it had fallen into place by accident but stayed there. Leather armour gripped his shoulders, a crossbow rode one arm, and a quiver hung easy at his hip. A sharpened version of himself, squared up and ready, like he’d stepped out of the fantasy art online.
He looked up, expecting someone to laugh or… something. Instead, the world had completely vanished around him.
He found himself in a white room with no one else around.
He pinched his arm, and it hurt.
The Diamond Commander card was still in his hand, the rest of the packs having vanished.
A blue screen appeared out of nowhere with a message scrawled along it.
Do you wish to play Card Commander?
There was a slot in the blue screen for the card to be placed.
Part of him was worried, yes, but beneath that was bubbling excitement that perhaps this was really happening.
He was, after all, in a white room with a blue-framed window hanging in space, waiting for him to make a choice.
James pressed the card firmly into the slot.
The card vanished, and in its place was a growing blue, diamond-bordered portal.
He hesitated only for a moment before stepping through.
It felt like plunging into deep water. Instead of passing through, the sensation sank into him. Breathing felt foreign, yet he didn’t choke.
Initiating Commander… Stand by.
Commander tutorial available. Basic knowledge level detected. Do you want to skip the tutorial?
He’d read enough LitRPGs to know one rule: never skip the tutorial.
Still, he really did already know how to play Card Commander.
“Okay, let’s do the tutorial,” James said.
The text flashed back instantly.
Tutorial skipped.
Wait—NO!
Trait Acquired: “Wait—NO!”
Effect:
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
A chat window appeared.
Bob:
A door shimmered into existence, glowing faintly in the air before James.
System Notice – World Erranoc Initiating…
Bob:
He stepped through anyway, a wide smile plastered across his face despite himself.
System Notice – Tutorial Area Entered
Tutorial Quests:
Find your first card
Find food or water
James frowned. “What? I thought I skipped the tutorial.”
Bob:
There was a pause while that sank in.
Bob:
James let out a sigh at his own stupidity. Though, honestly, it was the start of a new adventure and bound to happen at least once.
He didn’t dwell on the reductive introduction.
“Hello, Bob. What happened to everyone else? Are they safe?”
Bob:
James looked around.
The landscape stretched ahead: rolling green hills, a dirt road winding into the distance, and woods behind him where the door had already vanished. The air was sharp with the smell of fresh plants.
The sun above looked ordinary. Too ordinary.
Bob:
There was no response.
James crouched by the roadside and grabbed two fist-sized rocks.
Quest Completed – Find a Weapon.
System Notice – Inventory Unlocked.
“Okay,” he muttered aloud. “What now?”
Bob:
Inventory. A semi-transparent grid blinked into existence in his mind’s eye. One slot was occupied, displaying a single dagger.
In his mind, a little leprechaun squealed and threw gold into the air in glee.
Bob:
James barely paid Bob any attention, though his brain snagged on the word , not .
He swapped the rocks for the dagger, then opened and shut the inventory with the power of his mind. Teeheehee.
Bob’s words intruded on his glee.
Bob:
James took out one rock and tossed it back onto the dirt. Better?
Bob:
James thought.
Bob:
James did a reality check and grimaced.
Bob:
Bob:
James didn’t think he’d be learning herbalism first if crafting was mandatory. Smithing maybe.
Bob:
James scowled at the dirt road ahead.
Bob:
Bob:
James tried to pull up a system log. Nothing. A transcript? Still nothing. He exhaled through his teeth.
Bob:
Bob:
Bob seemed to be joking, trying to lighten the mood. Yet the possessive use of set James’s spine tingling.
Outwardly, James rolled his eyes and started down the dirt road, following its slow curve toward the distant hills.
He’d barely gone three minutes when a man stepped into his path, a look of desperation etched across his face.
“Give me all your money or die,” the man said, voice rough.
James’s gaze snagged on the sword at the man’s hip for a moment. Runes like veins spread down from the hilt, anchored around a silver card. They didn’t glow, but James doubted they were just for show.
The robber wasn’t old, maybe forty, but the lines around his eyes gave him a weary, haunted look. Brown hair streaked with grey framed a face that might once have been boyish, if not for the scruff of an unkempt beard. His leather armour was worn, nicked, and scratched from too many close calls. A badge hung half-hidden at his belt, hinting he’d once been someone official.
Bob:
James thought fast. He mentally pushed his keys, wallet, and phone into his inventory, hoping the man wouldn’t notice his pockets flatten. At the same time, he slid off his watch and held it out.
“Here. Take my watch. It’s the most valuable thing I have.”
“Okay. That, and all your coins.”
“I don’t have any coins,” James said. Unfortunately, the thought of the coins in his wallet must have betrayed him. The man took a threatening step forward.
“No, wait, please. I do have some, but they’re not standard. They come from far away.”
He mentally shifted a dollar coin and three twenty-cent pieces from his wallet into his pocket. Thankfully, the inventory system allowed it. Then he fished them out and placed them on the ground beside his watch.
“You know what? Turn your pockets out. I don’t trust you.”
James obeyed, despite the irony. As his hand brushed deeper into one pocket, his fingers closed around a mint he’d forgotten.
Quest Completed – Obtain Food or Water.
Rewards have been placed in your inventory.
Inventory full – placing overflow nearby.
Waterskin – Full
Rations – Jerky ×10
The mugger jumped back in alarm, sword raised. “What just happened?”
Not wanting to give away his inventory, and not thinking quite fast enough, James told the truth. “I just completed a quest.”
“Quest? That doesn’t make sense. If what you say is true… oh no.”
Panic crossed the man’s face. He turned and ran like his life depended on it. Surprisingly, he didn’t go into the trees he’d come from but bolted down the road, glancing left and right as if searching for something.
Moments later, an arrow hissed out of nowhere, slamming into the robber’s shoulder and sending him spinning to the dirt.
“Wait! I have a quest! I swear I didn’t know…”
Bob didn’t respond.
Two figures crested the rise.
The first carried a bow, an arrow already knocked and aimed. She had a hunter’s focus: lean frame, sharp angles to her face, braid loose but functional, eyes keen. Elemental orbs of fire and ice lazily orbited her bow.
The second echoed the gear of the fallen robber. Same leather armour, same hardened stance. He was a bit taller, though, broader, with hair the colour of sunlit copper. His presence carried battlefield weight, calm and inevitable, as though the outcome was already written.
A sword was held easily in his hand, steel etched with another sealed card embedded, runes spiderwebbing through it.
“Hey, Commander,” the swordsman called, tone casual and friendly.
“Found you at last.”
