Gatecrash: Awakening

I resisted the urge to flop onto my couch since I was still damp with sweat. Today was leg day, and I felt wobbly just standing in the entryway of my apartment. I leaned against the counter which delineated the kitchen and the rest of the main room. As I took off my sneakers, my gaze was captured by the calendar on the fridge.

This month was my month. I stared at the picture of me, first struck by the sultry expression I was giving the viewer. Some of my midnight hair had fallen over my face, but behind it my sapphire blue eyes were narrowed seductively, complementing the smirk of my painted red lips. This had been my first pin-up photoshoot, and when the photographer had told me to give the camera "bedroom eyes", I'd been surprised by her response of "just like that" to my first attempt. The idea that I was a natural at looking fuckable made me feel a heat that had nothing to do with the workout I was cooling down from.

But however alluring it was, my face was one of the last things the intended audience of the photo would notice. I was bent over at a perfect ninety-degree angle, my elbows resting on a desk laden with an old computer and a mess of papers. Featured in the center of the shot were my hanging breasts. They threatened to spill out of my lacy black basque at any moment, and my stomach churned as I recalled them doing just that during the shoot. I'd worn pasties just in case, but that had left only the barest scraps of tape hiding my nipples from the crew at each slip.

Suspenders came down from the bottom of the basque to hold up matching black stockings, accenting the curves of my legs. Thanks to my crimson stilettos, my ass was turned up. But even considering its shapeliness forged by my efforts in the gym, perhaps the most striking aspect of my rear was what it was missing: panties. Thanks to the angle, nothing more intimate than the bare side was visible. But even though I knew the secret, the effect was bewitching.

The pasties spilling out from my top had been enough to set my heart racing, but the thrill I'd felt wearing a c-string for the first time to create the illusion of bottomlessness had been electrifying. I had never had so much of myself on display. The crew at the studio had been consummate professionals, but that had only made the weight of their scrutiny as they arranged everything to exacting detail all the more intense.

The flush on my face and neck had gone even darker than the pink brought on by exertion. It may not have been the swimsuit calendar of Huntress, but this calendar had plenty of circulation. And apparently this had been one of their best-selling years yet. I wondered how many people had me on their wall this month, captivated by my stunning profile. And how many had ulterior motives for buying a calendar full of half-naked women.

I realized that I had only gotten half-way through untying my first sneaker. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I quickly got the knots undone and placed my sneakers on my shoe rack. My sweaty socks came next, and I threw those towards my bedroom door to place in the hamper later.

The apartment was a one-bedroom with a lot of space. The door opened into a small entryway walled on one side with the door to a decent coat closet and on the other by the counter I'd been leaning against. On the other side of the counter was a full kitchen with two high chairs for sitting on the kitchen-side of the counter.

Past the closet on the other side of the room was a wide space I'd furnished with a sofa and a coffee table. Across from the sofa was a desk sporting two laptops and an extra monitor. I kept them out here, partially because I'd heard it was bad to sleep and work in the same room. Mostly because the bedroom was way too small to comfortably fit a queen bed and a desk.

There were tall windows, almost floor the ceiling, on the wall across from the kitchen. I headed across the room to close the curtains. With my shoes and socks off, the rest of my ensemble was quick to follow. It consisted of an orange sports bra which barely managed to keep my considerable chest in check and form-fitting black bike shorts which were light and flexible. They had the added benefit of showing off my ass.

My top and bottom joined my socks by my bedroom door. I decided to check my computers before showering. I headed over to the desk, standing to keep my leather office chair clean. Feeling a bit naughty, I adopted the same pose as the photo while I checked my emails. My breasts hung completely free now, and there was no c-string to hide my slit glistening with more than just sweat.

The work laptop was first. I had to input my credentials thanks to the security policy. The username was ccalder, 'Calder' being my last name, and the first 'C' standing for my first name, Callisto. The password was a randomly generated string of twenty characters, but the laptop had a built-in fingerprint scanner so I just used that. It also accepted a Face ID, but I'd put some tape over the camera which I only took off during video calls, since I didn't want to give anyone in IT the chance to spy on me lounging around my apartment naked. Although the idea had tempted me more than once.

I'd submitted a new revision of the wiring diagram for the generator my team was redesigning before I'd gone to the gym. There was no feedback yet, and there probably wouldn't be any until next week. The Thursday meeting was in about two hours, but besides that, I was done for the week barring anything unexpected.

My personal laptop was accessed just by wiggling the mouse, though its camera was likewise obscured. This email was more active. I smiled at a payment confirmation from the photoshoot I'd done last week. That one had been more typical for me, modelling underwear for a clothing company. This shoot in particular had been pretty bland; they'd had me in a pair of plain white panties with plenty of coverage and a black tank top. All of the poses were neutral and chaste, emphasizing the underwear rather than my body.

Still, $300 was $300. I was slowly but surely chipping away at my student loans. And even if most of my overpayment each month was courtesy of the lucrative engineering gig I'd taken out all those loans for in the first place, the debt was a nice excuse to flaunt.

While I was at my computer, I checked HunterNet. Since I hadn't awakened, I couldn't post or comment. But it was still exciting to see what all of the Hunters were saying. I checked the section for Boston. A Gate had opened this morning right outside the Museum of Science, which had resulted in what the news was calling a 'traffic apocalypse' as drivers scrambled to reroute their trips over the Charles River.

Since my excursion to the gym (which was thankfully walking distance), the Gate had been measured as High Threat. Stardust Strikers, the most prominent Guild in Boston, had sent in their elite team, promising to clear the Gate as soon as possible.

But my home city's congestion woes did not even make the front page of HunterNet. The top post there was about the results of the Rosebud Guild's attack on the Great Labyrinth. The Great Labyrinth was a Gate in what had once been a small town in Nebraska. It was one of the few original Gates from the first Gatecrash which had not been cleared, thanks to its incredible size and difficulty.

It was by far the largest Gate ever recorded, consisting of dozens of floors. But the Rosebud Guild had gotten one step closer, having defeated the guardian of the ninetieth floor and reaching a new all time depth record. It was an incredible achievement, befitting one of the top Guilds in the world. The comments were full of congratulations from other Hunters, and speculation about just how deep the Great Labyrinth would go.

Another post on the front page caught my eye, a build theorycraft by a prominent Hunter which purported to challenge the idea that Hunters who fought barehanded should prioritize their Might stat. Although I could only dream of becoming a Hunter, I was still fascinated by the complexities of the System that gave them their abilities. I bookmarked the post to read later, then headed to the shower.

The bathroom was my least favorite part of my apartment, though that spoke more to how nice the apartment was rather than any fatal flaw on the bathroom's part. Its primary deficiency was that it was compact. Even including the shower stall at the back, it barely had enough depth for me to lie down. And I was hardly a giant at 5'6". It had even less width, only about four feet. It made good use of the space: a toilet and a sink standing side-by-side, with the shower stall beyond them. The shower was spacious enough, but there was of course no room for a bath.

It had plenty of other minor flaws, but when I was just coming back from the gym and sticky with sweat, there was no place I'd rather be. I set the water just sort of scalding, then turned on the fan once the steam started to billow.

I hopped under the water, loving the feeling despite how hot I already was from my workout. It was like I was sweating all of my stress away, then cleaning it off with the bar of soap I worked over my bare skin. It was perfectly smooth in all of the expected places. I'd waxed my legs, arms, chest, even pubes two weeks ago.

I sometimes felt a bit silly about doing that last one since I hadn't been in a relationship in over a year and had no intention of anyone I wasn't seeing... well, seeing me down there. But the idea of someone sneaking a peek at my bush felt so much more scandalous than someone sneaking a peek at the bare skin under it. It was hard to tell where my nethers began if there was no hair to mark them, after all.

After soap came shampoo, and once I'd rinsed that out, I applied my conditioner. It was the sort that stayed in for about a minute before rinsing, so I cleaned my face with a special wash while I waited. Then I rinsed my face and my hair. As I was reaching to turn off the water, I felt a sudden sense of vertigo.

I reached my hand out to grab the nearby wall of my shower to steady myself but found only air. Cold air. My whole body was suddenly cold, goosebumps creeping onto my immaculate skin. Where had my wonderful steam gone? I flicked my hands to dry them slightly, afraid of what I would--or wouldn't--find if I tried to reach past the curtain for a towel. Then I rubbed my eyes, which had fortunately been cleansed of conditioner and facewash. I managed to dry them enough that I could bear to open them against the lingering wetness.

I was so unsettled that I hadn't really known what to expect when I opened my them. But I was greeted by perhaps the worst sight imaginable. I was in the middle of a crowd, half a dozen people within a few yards of me and dozens more spread out beyond them. Unlike me, they were all fully clothed.

I'd never had those clichéd dreams of showing up to class or work naked, but it was impossible that they were as harrowing as the waking nightmare I was in the middle of. Ice-cold dread had set in me a deeper chill than this cool air on my soaked skin, and my heart had all-but stopped with horror. Surely someone feeling this much panic would start awake from the shock.

A man nearby was looking at me, eyes widened in surprise even as they moved up and down my nude form. Everything was on display thanks to the pose I had frozen in, and he greedily took in the bounty of supple flesh in front of him.

I was no stranger to being leered at, but without fabric protecting me from his gaze, I felt unimaginably exposed. His eyes held more bewilderment than hunger, but on my legs still shaking from my workout, I felt like a fawn caught in the sights of a wolf. I shrieked as I dropped down into a crouch, resting my breasts on my thighs and wrapping my arms around my legs to keep myself as small and concealed as possible.

I had succeeded in covering my intimate bits, but the involuntary shriek had drawn the attention of everyone nearby. They all turned to me, taking in the spectacle of the naked woman hiding herself. Many of the men--and a few of the women--craned their necks to get a better look, their eyes drawn to where the sides of my breasts spilled out, or to the curve of my rear.

It was finally beginning to sink in that this was happening. I was completely naked in a crowd of people, crouching down in a puddle of the water dripping off me. The only semblance of modesty was my dark hair reaching halfway down my back, but plastered to me like this, it felt more like an arrow pointing to my ass.

If the man before had been a hungry wolf, this was the whole pack. I rested my forehead against my knees to hide my face, which had gone fully crimson. The initial shock had worn off, but I felt such a deep embarrassment that it felt like there was a bottomless pit where my stomach should have been.

But deeper down, past even my stomach, was the same thrill as when I'd bent over that desk in a c-string, my tits flopping out of my top covered only in pasties. I was probably the hottest woman any of these guys checking me out would ever see naked. Even as I began to shiver, I felt a heat stirring between my legs, accompanying a wetness that hadn't come from my shower. But before I had a chance to ruminate, a voice echoed over the crowd.

"Good morning everyone, and welcome to the Tutorial." The speaker had a rich baritone, with the slight reverb of electronic amplification. He continued, "Let me be the first to congratulate you for awakening as Hunters."

The mess of my emotions reached new levels of disarray. Had I heard that right? My first, dearest wish had been to awaken. Even after learning that awakening wasn't the sort of thing I could make happen with hard work, I'd still tried to get as close to the world of Hunters as possible. I'd even majored in Electrical Engineering with a focus in Power Generation at the top program in the world so that I could design the generators the Energy Crystals that Hunters recovered were used for.

This should have been the best day of my life. And maybe someday when I looked back, that was how I would think of it. But while I desperately yearned to jump for joy, I was far too conscious of the show I'd be putting on if I did that. I squeezed my legs even tighter to my body, breaking out into a grin in spite of everything.

I looked up past my knees now, beginning to understand where I was. The floor was cold linoleum, and above us was a drop ceiling with fluorescent lights embedded at regular intervals. Beyond the crowd in front of me was probably a stage that the presenter was speaking from. I was mostly relieved--though a little disappointed--that most of my admirers had turned to face the front. I suppose I couldn't blame them for being more interested in the news that they'd awakened as Hunters than they were in staring at me.

The speaker continued, "My name is Garrick, this Tutorial's representative of the American Hunter's Union. AHU has managed to hack the Tutorial somewhat to provide good living conditions and additional prizes to the participants, in order to ensure America's Hunters come out as strong as possible. You will all be given a room and food, along with some other amenities."

Perhaps they'd also had the foresight to provide clothes? I couldn't have been the only Hunter pulled into the Tutorial while showering or otherwise in a state of undress. My heart went out to any of my predecessors who'd gone through the same thing before AHU had set this up.

Once he'd given enough time for the crowd to appreciate AHU's generosity, Garrick said, "The Tutorial will last for eight days, with one Instance every day. Don't worry if you left your oven on or have other plans--time passes much more quickly in the Tutorial than outside. Only a few seconds will have gone by when you return, and you'll end up exactly where you disappeared from."

I hadn't even been thinking about all the water and gas I'd be wasting, so that was good to know. But I'd have to remember that I would have a faceful of hot water waiting for me once the Tutorial ended.

"Let's start off by looking at our Statuses," Garrick said. "Your Status is a numerical representation of your aptitude as a Hunter, as well as a list of abilities. You can also access your Inventory through the Status. To look at your Status, you just have to think about it with intention. If that doesn't work, try saying 'Status'."

It was as easy as he described it. One moment I was excited to look at my Status, the next there was a translucent blue window in front of me like I was wearing augmented reality glasses. I heard a few people muttering 'Status' around me, but most of the crowd could access it just by thinking about it.

Name: Callisto Calder

Class: Trainee

Level: 1

XP: 0/100

Coins: 0

HP: 1124/1124

AP: 2144/2144

Might: 105

Dexterity: 117

Fortitude: 104

Resistance: 113

Potency: 235

There were additional tabs; one for secondary stats like attack (which was currently the same 105 as my Might), another for my Inventory (empty at the moment), and another for Skills/Feats (also empty). But just looking at my primary stats, they were... kind of insane? From what I remembered, 50 in a stat was average for fresh Hunters. All of my stats were at least double that, and my Potency was almost five times the average. Was I on track to become a top Hunter? Maybe I'd make the swimsuit calendar of Huntress after all.

Garrick's voice once again cut into my thoughts: "The specific details of your Status are private information, so do not carelessly share them with anyone, even representatives of AHU like myself. That being said, AHU needs to collect a reading of your Potency for identification purposes, and this will also give us an approximate idea of your Potency stat. For privacy reasons, our automated system will store and handle this information. Participation is optional, but all participants will receive 10 Coins. The ten highest will receive 100 Coins, and the Hunter with the highest Potency stat will receive a coupon for any Skillbook in the Tutorial Shop."

Naturally, no one was going to turn down free money, even if they did not yet know what exactly that free money could be used for. The loose crowd began to turn into a line as people vied for their chance to have their Potency registered.

This presented me with an awkward decision: I could either get into the throng and jostle for position while I was completely naked and give all of my fellow Hunters the perfect opportunity to "accidentally" bump into me, or I could hang out at the back and give them all something to look at while they waited their turn.

Presented like that, it wasn't really much of a choice. I was barely holding it together just having my naked body leered at. I certainly was not about to give anyone the chance to put their hands on me. So I stayed put, shivering in my crouch while I watched the line slowly move, trying not to make eye contact with the growing collection of Hunters near the back who were not shy about gawking at me while they made smalltalk.

I rested my head against my knees again, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the chill, the embarrassment, the arousal, just... everything. I focused back on my excitement. This is what I'd dreamed of, wasn't it? I hadn't just read all of that theorycrafting because I was curious. I'd dreamed of designing my own build.

As Garrick would probably explain before the first Instance, a Hunter's Class was determined by how they completed the Tutorial. There were many classes, all divides by rarity into three categories: Common, Rare, and Unique. Common classes had standardized builds thanks to decades of research and practical experience, but most Rare classes were shrouded in mystery. Many Hunters with Rare classes did not even share the name of their class except with their Guild and trusted confidants.