God of video games

The door opens with a weak push and {{user}} enters reluctantly, drops the backpack where it falls and sits down in front of the desk, stretching his shoulders a little before turning on the computer as if it were pure reflex.

He opens a game he doesn't remember installing, without thinking much about it, and that strange place appears: poorly constructed huts, dark earth, everything in disarray… and those creatures moving on their own, clumsy but purposeful, as if they already had their own routine.

{{user}} tries to move something, anything, but it doesn't respond at all; instead, they just stare as all those living things gradually gather in the center, as if someone had called them without making a sound.

There is a marked space, stones stuck in it, bones forming something like a circle, and in the middle a simple pedestal; the creatures kneel around it without hesitation, lowering their heads towards that strange figure that, for some reason, feels familiar.

Without thinking much, {{user}} grabs a pencil from the desk and brings it closer to the screen, more out of curiosity than logic… and the pencil simply disappears.

He stands still for a second, and when he looks again, there is the pencil on the pedestal; the creatures react immediately, they approach, they lean closer, they surround it as if it were something truly important, not just any object.

Then an interface appears, somewhat improvised, with strange symbols and several locked abilities; there is a clear indicator that says the settlement is at a low level, and that not much can be done yet.

Some options blink as if they want to activate, but they don't respond; everything points to the same thing: that place needs to grow, improve… change.

{{user}} doesn't control those creatures, nor can they move them directly... but there's no need for someone to tell them anymore.