chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting

[chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting]

Chapter 5

The cave pressed in closer the farther Ash went. Each step seemed heavier, as though the ground itself resisted him, trying to hold his boots in place. The torchlight flickered with every breath of air, but there was no wind. It was as if the flame struggled to live against something unseen. Like the darkness was trying to consume the light.

Ash kept glancing back over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the cave mouth still faintly glowing behind him. But the light had long since disappeared and only black stone and jagged shadows stretched behind him now seeming to never end. 

"Should've brought more torches," he muttered, his voice sounding muffled. The words didn't echo properly anymore. They just died in the stale air.

He tightened his grip on the torch. "This game is doing way too good of a job."

The whispers came again.

Still not in recognizable words, just sounds, like breathing stretched into syllables. A thousand voices murmuring from somewhere too far and too close all at once.

Ash froze. His heart thundered in his chest, and sweat prickled his skin despite the chill.

"Not real," he whispered. "Just sound design. Just a scripted event."

But when he pulled up his stats, the truth hit harder than he wanted to admit.

Name: Ashfall 

Race: ??? 

Class: Classless 

Level: 1 

HP: 50/50 

XP: 0% 

Strength: 5 

Vitality: 6 

Agility: 5 

Intelligence: 7 

Charisma: 4 

Corruption: 4% 

The number had climbed again.

Ash closed the panel quickly, as if that could stop it. But his chest tightened, and not just from fear. The whispers sank into his bones. He could feel them, like cold fingers brushing his ribs, tickling the back of his skull.

"What the hell does corruption even do?" His voice cracked slightly. "Is this permanent? Temporary? Some stupid debuff mechanic? Why hasn't the game explained any of this?!"

There was no answer, only the faint scrape of stone shifting somewhere deep in the tunnels.

He pressed forward, choosing the left-hand path — the one glowing faintly silver. At least the strange light promised some visibility.

The tunnel sloped downward. Every few feet, the walls changed. The stone wasn't natural anymore; it looked carved. Long gouges marred the surfaces, as though clawed by something too big to fit through the passage.

Ash trailed his fingers over one of the gouges. The grooves were deep, sharp enough to slice his skin if he wasn't careful. These weren't the pretty decorative carvings and they were definitely not made by anything remotely close to human. 

His stomach twisted.

"Definitely not tutorial content," he whispered.

The whispers grew louder.

The silver glow ahead revealed itself to be a patch of moss clinging to the walls. It shimmered faintly, pulsing in rhythm with some unseen heartbeat. The torchlight made it recoil, dimming as though it didn't like being watched.

Ash leaned closer, curiosity prickling past his fear. The moss wasn't moss at all. It was more like thin strands that looked like veins glowing faintly beneath the surface of the rock. It made it seem as if the cave itself was alive.

The whispers throbbed in time with the glow.

His corruption ticked upward again.

Corruption: 5% 

Ash recoiled, nearly dropping the torch. "Okay. Nope. Not touching that."

Still, the path led straight through the glowing patch. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to walk past, torch held high. The light hissed faintly as it neared the strands, and the whispers grew louder, sharper, filling his skull until he thought his head would split.

When he finally left the glowing moss behind, the whispers dulled— but they didn't vanish.

The tunnel widened into another cavern. This one was smaller, circular, its walls slick with moisture. Bones littered the ground here too, but unlike the broken piles in the entrance chamber, these were arranged.

Carefully.

Ash stopped dead. Skulls lined the far wall, stacked neatly in rows. Femurs jutted from the dirt like stakes. A ribcage hung from the ceiling on a length of sinew, swaying faintly though there was no wind.

He gagged, bile rising in his throat.

"This is way too detailed," he whispered, his voice shaking. "What kind of sick dev team designed this?"

The corruption bar pulsed again, and when he dared glance at it, the number had crept upward.

Corruption: 6% 

His breath came too fast, chest heaving.

Stop looking. Stop thinking about it. Just move.

But his boots felt glued to the stone.

The skulls seemed to grin at him in the shifting light, empty sockets following him no matter where he moved.

He shook his head hard, forcing himself to turn toward the next tunnel.

The whispers didn't fade. They crawled deeper into his head, shaping themselves into half-formed words. He thought he heard his name once, whispered in a dozen voices at once.

"Ash…"

He spun, torchlight flaring across the cavern. Nothing. Just bones.

His skin crawled. His chest ached. Every breath tasted of rust and decay.

He opened his stats again, desperate for something grounding.

Corruption: 7% 

The number mocked him. Slowly, steadily, climbing higher every minute.

I need to get out. Just turn back, reset, log out if I have to. This isn't fun anymore.

But when he looked behind him, the tunnel seemed darker than before. Like the shadows themselves had thickened, ready to swallow him if he tried to turn around.

It seems there is no going back. 

His hands shook. His heart hammered. His vision blurred around the edges.

It's just a game. Remember it is just a game. A very gruesome, very detailed game, but none the less just a game. 

The sides of the tunnel pressed in until they were against his shoulders. He ducked low, squeezing through a jagged crack.

And froze.

The cavern beyond was vast — the largest yet. The ceiling was lost in shadows and the floor was uneven, strewn with boulders and collapsed rubble. Pools of stagnant water glimmered faintly, reflecting his torchlight in broken shards. Sending even more shadows to dance around. 

But it wasn't the size of the chamber that made him stop.

It was the sound.

The whispers were gone.

Silence pressed in, heavier than before. His ears rang with the absence of it.

And then, from the far side of the cavern, came the sound of stone grinding.

Slow. Heavy. Like something massive shifting after a long sleep.

Ash's torch trembled in his grip. His throat went dry.

"Boss fight," he whispered. His voice cracked. "It's a boss fight, isn't it?"

A shadow moved.

Huge. Crawling. Wrong.

The sound came again — stone grinding against stone.

And then two pinpricks of pale light opened in the dark. Eyes.

Ash staggered back a step, torchlight flaring. His stats flashed in the corner of his vision.

Corruption: 8% 

The creature shifted fully into view.

Its body was twisted, humanoid only in the sense that it stood on two feet. Skin like stretched leather clung to bones that jutted too sharply. Its limbs were too long, fingers ending in black claws that scraped grooves into the stone. Its chest heaved with every breath, each exhale rattling like broken glass.

And its face — its face was nothing but a skull, jaw unhinged too wide, the whispers pouring from its hollow throat.

Ash's blood ran cold.

The torch shook in his hand.

The thing turned towards him and those glowing eyes locked with his.

[chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting]

Chapter 4

Ash stood at the mouth of the cave, the damp wind whispering out of its depths like a warning. The forest had grown quieter as he approached, birds silenced, even the usual hum of insects gone. Only the rustle of leaves behind him broke the stillness, as though the world itself didn't want to follow him any farther.

"Creepy," he muttered, adjusting the strap of his gear bag over his shoulder. "Ten out of ten on atmosphere, I'll give you that."

It was supposed to be a side quest. Something simple. "Investigate the strange cave" had sounded more like tutorial content than an actual challenge. But now, staring into the yawning black throat of the earth, Ash wasn't so sure.

He lit one of the torches he'd bought at the village inn. The flame flared bright, then steadied, casting long shadows along the jagged stone. They moved strangely, lagging just behind his movements like they weren't quite tethered to the firelight.

Ash swallowed. It's just a good design. Games love messing with your head in caves. Don't get jumpy now.

He stepped inside.

The temperature dropped immediately, as if he'd crossed some invisible barrier. The air grew thick, carrying a metallic tang that coated his tongue. Every breath felt heavier, harder to pull into his lungs.

The torchlight revealed bones scattered across the floor. At first he thought they were animal remains, but the longer he looked, the more certain he became — these were human. Or at least humanoid. Long femurs snapped in half. Ribs splayed like cages. A skull rested against the wall, a rusted sword still clutched in its skeletal fingers.

Ash knelt, squinting at the armor that clung in scraps to the skeleton. It was old, dented, and torn through by something strong enough to shear steel like paper. He touched the broken edge of a breastplate, running his fingers along the jagged gash.

"Not NPC trash loot…" he muttered. "Someone actually fought here."

Deeper inside, the walls narrowed, forcing him to duck and twist sideways through a jagged passage. The torch guttered in the stale air, and the shadows reached long, clawlike fingers across the stone.

The deeper he went, the heavier the pressure on his chest became. A weight that wasn't quite physical but pressed all the same, like the cave itself was alive and disliked his presence.

"Games always make caves creepy," he said, half to reassure himself. "But this one… this one feels like it's pressing in on me. Like it doesn't want me here."

His skin prickled. The hairs on his neck rose, and he could swear he felt unseen eyes scraping across his back. He spun once, torchlight flaring across empty stone. Nothing moved.

Still, he opened his Stats out of reflex.

Name: Ashfall 

Race: ??? 

Class: Classless 

Level: 1 

HP: 50/50 

XP: 0% 

Strength: 5 

Vitality: 6 

Agility: 5 

Intelligence: 7 

Charisma: 4 

He frowned. Same as before. Nothing had changed since he left the village. He almost closed it, but something new caught his eye. Just below his HP bar, a thin line flickered faintly.

Corruption: 2% 

Ash blinked. "What the hell…?"

He hadn't earned that. There'd been no notification, no tutorial popup, no indication that the stat even existed until now. It hadn't been there when he checked back at the inn.

"Great," he muttered. "Hidden mechanics. Love those. Always balanced and fair."

Still, the sight of it unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. HP he understood. XP made sense. But corruption? What did it mean? Why two percent already?

He shut the panel quickly, as though hiding it would make it go away.

The tunnel opened into a wide cavern. The ceiling disappeared into shadows, with dripping stalactites gleaming faintly. The floor was littered with broken weapons, snapped arrows, shattered shields. Armor rusted into dust at his touch.

Bones were everywhere. Not scattered like animal remains this time, but heaped in piles. He crouched by one and picked up a helm, its surface bent inward, as though smashed by something unimaginably heavy. The hole in the forehead was too precise to be random damage.

The air was heavier here. His torchlight seemed to dim, swallowed by the oppressive darkness pressing in from every side. A metallic scent filled the air and coated his tongue. 

Ash's hand trembled as he set the helmet back down. "Not creepy at all," he whispered. His voice sounded smaller, almost muffled, as though the cave absorbed it hungrily.

And then he heard it.

A whisper.

Faint, curling just at the edge of his hearing. Not words he could understand, but sounds. Wet, sibilant, echoing like voices carried from deep underwater. He froze, heart hammering.

The whispers didn't stop. They slid along the walls, behind him, beside him, inside his ears.

Ash pulled the torch close to his chest. Sound design. It's just sound design. Scripted whispers. Don't freak out.

But his stats flickered again.

Corruption: 3% 

His breath caught.

He hadn't fought anything. He hadn't done anything. Just walking here was changing him.

Ash stared at the screen, unsettled for the first time since entering the game. It wasn't the usual thrill of challenge or the rush of something new. This was different. This was… invasive.

He pushed forward anyway, forcing his legs to move. The path narrowed again, forcing him to stoop, the torch scraping against the ceiling. His boots crunched on brittle bones, the sound sharp and harsh on his ears.

When the tunnel widened, it split into two paths.

The left glowed faintly with pale light, almost silver, like moonlight leaking through cracks. The right oozed with an oily haze, shadows darker than the dark around them, as though the cave itself bled smoke.

Ash swallowed hard.

The corruption bar pulsed faintly at the edge of his vision.

He shifted his grip on the torch, staring at the two paths. One seemed safe, or at least safer. The other practically radiated danger.

He checked his stats one last time, staring at the new line.

Corruption: 3% 

"Okay," he whispered, his voice trembling just enough to betray him. "This isn't just a cave. Something down here is changing me."

And with that, he stepped forward.

[chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting]

Chapter 3

With darkness falling Ash started looking for a place to rest. Finding a building that said Inn from the swinging sign he pushed through the door to warmth and the smell of woodsmoke and stew. A half-dozen patrons clustered around tables, mugs in hand, talking loudly. None of them looked up when he walked in but the noise level drasticlly fell and he could feel the the heaviness that settled over the inn. 

The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered woman with streaks of silver in her dark hair, raised an eyebrow as he approached.

"Room?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ash said. "Just for tonight."

She slid a heavy iron key across the counter. No menus, no interface prompts, no neat confirmation window. Just the key, cool and solid in his hand. He turned it over, half-expecting glowing runes or a tooltip to appear. Nothing.

"Up the stairs, last door on the left," she added. "Don't track mud on the floorboards."

Ash muttered thanks and climbed the creaking staircase. The room was plain: a narrow bed, a small desk, a single shuttered window. About what you would expect from a simple inn. But when he sat down, the mattress pushed back against him — firm but real, carrying the faint smell of straw and soap. He lay back, staring at the ceiling beams, and for the first time since spawning into this strange world, he felt the ache in his muscles ease.

So the game tracks fatigue too? Or maybe it's just me.

The note from the notice board tugged at Ash's attention all evening. The words had been simple, almost generic — Cave near the forest edge. Unusually aggressive beasts. Exercise caution. But in a game that had stripped away his class, his map, even his ability to earn experience the usual way, this felt like the first breadcrumb worth following.

By dawn, he was back on the streets. Lanterns guttered out one by one as the sun rose, painting the cobblestones gold. The ache in his shoulders had faded, though faint stiffness remained

."So the pain lingers," he muttered.

No reset. No fresh slate after logging off. Just a body that remembered every bruise.

Still, something about that permanence sent a thrill up his spine. This wasn't a grind. This was survival.

He cut through the northern gate. The dwarf guard from the night before gave him a sidelong look.

"Headin' into the woods?"

Ash shrugged. "Figure I'll take a look around."

The guard's gaze lingered on his faint glow, but he didn't press further. "Don't stray too far. Things out there aren't as simple as they look."

Ash smirked. Perfect.

The forest opened ahead, branches swaying gently, their shadows sharp in the morning sun. Birds scattered at his approach. Every sound carried weight — the crunch of his boots on fallen leaves, the whisper of grass against his legs, even the flutter of wings in the canopy above.

He kept to the cobbled trail at first, noting the patrol routes of low-level monsters he'd fought before. Goblin-things lingered near the treeline, weak, predictable. He ignored them. No XP, no progress. Pointless.

Instead, he focused on landmarks: the twisted oak by the fork in the road, a shallow creek cutting diagonally through the underbrush, and the faint trail of smoke curling deeper into the woods. A mental map built itself step by step — not a glowing overlay, but something rawer, more primal.

Hours passed. Sweat dripped from his forehead, muscles burning with the effort of hiking rough terrain. At one point he slipped on moss-slick stone, landing hard on his shoulder. Pain flared white-hot, and he hissed through his teeth.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, rubbing at the bruise. "I'm actually sore from falling in a game."

But even as he cursed, a grin tugged at his mouth. 

The deeper he pressed into the forest, the more the atmosphere shifted. Trees leaned close together, muting the light. The air cooled, damp and heavy. The usual chatter of wildlife faded, replaced by silence broken only by distant, guttural growls.

Ash slowed his steps. Instinct prickled the back of his neck.

"Guess I'm close."

Finally, the trees parted, revealing a jagged hill of stone at the forest's edge. A wide fissure split its base, shadows bleeding outward like ink. The mouth of the cave loomed before him, ringed by claw marks etched deep into the rock. Bones lay scattered near the entrance, picked clean.

Ash crouched low, studying the scene. The remains weren't just of animals. A rusted helmet, a torn scrap of cloth, and the broken shaft of a spear lay half-buried among the bones. Whatever was inside, it had been feeding on more than beasts.

His fingers twitched toward his interface. Stats unchanged. Classless. Still no XP. Nothing to lean on but instinct, reflexes, and a handful of potions.

For a long moment, he hesitated. This wasn't like other games where death was a slap on the wrist, a respawn with a minor penalty. Here, pain lingered. Fear had weight. And yet — his chest buzzed with anticipation.

"This is it," he whispered. "Finally, something worth the risk."

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his starter blade, squared his shoulders, and stepped into the darkness of the cave.

[chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting]

Chapter 2

Ash stepped out from the clearing where he had respawned and into the heart of the village. Cobblestone streets wound between low, timber-framed cottages, smoke curling lazily from chimneys. Market stalls, most abandoned, lined the central plaza, and a faint smell of bread and herbs drifted through the air.

The village wasn't large — perhaps a few dozen buildings — but it was well-maintained. Wooden bridges arched over a shallow stream that cut through the plaza. Fountains trickled water, catching the afternoon light and scattering it in tiny prisms. Though the village looked serene, Ash couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. He flexed his glowing fingers, letting the faint pulses of energy run across his translucent skin.

He pulled up his map. Nothing. The usual mini-map overlay failed to appear. He tapped commands, tried the full-screen view, and even scrolled through menus — still blank. Just empty fields.

Great. So I don't even know where I am, he muttered.

He opened his Stats for reassurance:

Name: Ash

Race: ???

Class: Classless

Level: 1

HP: 50/50

Experience: 0%

Stats:

Strength: 5

Vitality: 6

Agility: 5

Intelligence : 7

Charisma: 4

Abilities:

Strike – Basic melee attack

Dodge – Simple evasive movement

Block – Reduces incoming damage

Focus – Concentrates energy to enhance next action

Minor Heal – Recovers a small amount of vitality

Moving down the street, he passed a lizardfolk blacksmith hammering at a forge. Scales glinted under the sun, eyes focused. Sparks flew with each strike, sizzling on the stone floor. A birdfolk merchant perched atop a crate nearby, feathers ruffling as he counted coins. A few guards passed by, swords at their sides, eyes alert.

Ash lingered. The villagers treated him with casual indifference, though a few glanced curiously at his translucent glow. Guess they don't see people like me often.

A merchant squawked a greeting as Ash approached.

"Fresh supplies! Herbs, potions, traps — best prices in the village!"

Ash raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I'll take a look."

A trade interface popped up automatically. Coins, potions, and basic equipment filled the screen. He bought a few minor healing potions and an empty satchel. Nothing flashy, but practical. He tested a potion with a quick tap — instant restoration of vitality. Everything functioned smoothly.

As he walked further, he passed a group of children — a mix of beastkin and elves — playing near the fountain. One dropped a ball, and a guard bent down to return it. Ash paused, watching the simple interaction. For a moment, he almost forgot the danger that lurked beyond the village edges. Almost.

He moved toward a notice board. Faded parchments fluttered in the breeze: requests for hunting wolf packs, clearing caves, and minor village tasks. One note caught his eye: "Cave near the forest edge — unusually aggressive beasts. Exercise caution." He smiled faintly. Well that sounds interesting.

The sun was dipping low as Ash explored alleyways, examining carts, loose tiles, and small details. Habit from years of gaming — always checking for hidden items or traps. Occasionally, he paused to open his Stats, confirming everything was intact: HP full, XP zero, Corruption zero, Abilities unchanged.

In a small alley, a stray cat padded by, tail high. Ash crouched, peering at a shadowed corner. Nothing. He straightened and continued, noting the village's layout mentally. Streets wound predictably between buildings. Bridges crossed the stream. The plaza lay central. Inns and shops clustered together. Without a map, he'd have to rely on memory and observation — not impossible, but inconvenient.

He passed a dwarf guard stationed near the northern gate. Arms crossed, expression stern.

"You're new here," the guard said, voice low. "A little adivce, stick to the main parts of town, don't start any funny business and you won't get hurt. If you leave the village stick to the main road and you might survive."

Ash nodded. "Thanks for the advice."

The guard grunted but did not say anything further, walking back to his post. Ash noticed the slight hesitation in the guard's gaze when it lingered on his glow, but he didn't dwell on it. More pressing was figuring out what lay beyond the village and how to handle the monsters that roamed the hills.

Ash wandered into the market district. Some stalls had scraps of food, herbs, and simple tools. He examined each briefly, noting which could be useful for crafting or minor buffs. Though the interface provided stats and prices automatically, he preferred to assess them manually — old habits die hard.

Near the fountain, a human-like NPC, older and with a lined face, mended nets for fishing. "The stream's calm today, but the forest is never quiet," he muttered aloud, though not to Ash.

Ash crouched at the bridge over the stream, peering at the water. It shimmered faintly, catching the last light of the sun. He touched it with a finger. No reaction, no interface prompt — just the slight ripple spreading across the surface. The world was detailed, vivid, alive in ways he hadn't experienced in VR before.

As evening fell, lanterns flickered to life along the streets, casting warm glows against the timbered walls. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestones. Ash paused at the plaza center, looking toward the hills where he had seen the high-level monsters before. Question marks hovered in his memory, unbroken by stats or map.

He thought about his Classless state, basic abilities, and even-handed stats. This isn't a typical newbie zone. But the challenge was exactly what he had been searching for.

Ash leaned against a wall, watching a guard complete his rounds and a merchant lock up his stall. The village felt structured, safe enough for the night, yet fragile — a buffer between him and the dangerous lands beyond. For the first time in years, he had the sense that he was truly in a world he couldn't predict.

He ran through the abilities again in his mind: Strike, Dodge, Block, Focus, Minor Heal. Each functioned as expected. No surprises. Yet, he had the distinct impression that mastering them here would require more than just button-mashing — observation, strategy, and patience.

Ash glanced up at the sky. Stars were starting to pierce the deepening blue, distant planets faintly visible. The night would bring cooler temperatures, fewer NPCs, and the occasional nocturnal predator. His heart quickened with anticipation.

For now, the village was safe. Mapless, uncharted, filled with NPCs going about their routines, but alive in detail and unpredictability. Ash stretched, letting the thrill of exploration wash over him.

[chaoticallyconfusedtrieswriting]

Chapter 1

Ash leaned back in his chair, headset snug over his ears, thumbs hovering over the familiar buttons. Another MMO launch, another "revolutionary" world promising challenge, drama, and epic loot. He'd played them all. He'd breezed through them all. Meh.Same old, same old. Probably won't even last an hour before I'm bored again.

He typed in his lifelong gamertag, Ashfall, a nostalgic nod to his first character — a fire mage that had burned bright for a week and then fizzled into forgettable history. He grinned at himself. Some things never changed.

The usual cutscene began: kingdoms broken by war, giants and orcs tearing through cities, the hell-realm tearing the last threads of the world apart. Demons spilled through the cracks, consuming everything. Ash's eyes glazed. He'd seen this story a dozen times.

Then the world flickered. The narration stuttered. The air shimmered. The cutscene warped into a splintered kaleidoscope, and suddenly Ash was somewhere else.

He found himself standing at the edge of a village, alone. Everything looked normal at first glance, but the air felt heavier, the light sharper, the textures more tactile than any VR system had rendered before.

He blinked at the world around him. The sun hung low, streaking red across the sky. Smoke drifted from the chimneys of small cottages, merchants and guardsmen could be seen on the streets. Everything looked normal till he noticed his reflection in a puddle. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. His character — his carefully designed warrior — was gone.

In its place was a lithe figure, translucent skin with pale, glowing lines tracing across his arms and torso. His hands flickered with faint energy. What the hell… he muttered.

He opened his Stats. Level 1. The class slot… blank. A single word blinked at him in place of the Mage he had painstakingly chosen: Classless.

Stats: 

Strength: 5

 Vitality: 6

Agility: 5

Intelligence: 7

Charisma: 4

Below the stats, his Experience Bar glowed faintly but was completely empty. 

Ash scrolled further. His abilities list was minimal — the basic starter abilities every new character had:

Strike – Basic melee attack Dodge – Simple evasive movement Block – Reduces incoming damage Focus – Concentrates energy to enhance next action Minor Heal – Recovers a small amount of vitality

Nothing flashy. No magic spells, no class skills, no AoE fireballs — nothing he had expected from his Mage. Just bare essentials.

Well, this is different, he thought, a flicker of interest sparking in his chest. He had played enough games to know the thrill of mastering a world — but this? He didn't know what to expect. And maybe that was the point.

Ash stepped forward cautiously. The village outskirts stretched wide, cobbled paths winding past abandoned carts and low walls. Small monsters patrolled the hills beyond: humanoid, weak-looking. Normally, he'd farm these for easy experience.

Rustling underbrush caught his attention. A small goblin-like creature lunged, claws raking across his forearm. Sharp pain shot up his arm, his muscles tensing. He countered with Strike, dodged, blocked a retaliatory swipe, each movement leaving residual ache. Focus sharpened his next attack, and a Minor Heal mended a scratch on his arm. Within moments, the creature lay motionless on the dirt, teeth bared and frozen in mid-snarl.

Victory felt satisfying — until he checked his Stats again.

Level: 1 Experience: 0%

Wait. Nothing? Ash frowned, scanning the body. Loot appeared — a small coin pouch, a scrap of meat — but no XP. 

He tried another patrol monster, then another. Each fell quickly under his attacks, each corpse yielded items, yet the XP bar remained stubbornly empty.

Ash crouched, staring at the Stats interface. He tested abilities, experimented with combos. Strike, Dodge, Block, Focus, Minor Heal — all functioned normally, but nothing filled the Experience bar.

So this isn't normal. There's something I'm missing.

He moved through the forest deliberately, analyzing spawn patterns and patrol routes. Small creatures roamed in predictable loops. Terrain offered some advantage if approached carefully. He even noted a few hollow logs and shallow ditches that could be used defensively. Still, XP remained locked.

He tested more creatures, noting spawn patterns and terrain advantages. Logs, shallow ditches, and ridges became part of his strategy. Every strike, every movement, every miss left him acutely aware of his body. Even after victory, he rubbed a tender shoulder, muscles sore, breathing shallow. The XP bar remained stubbornly empty. Victory without reward felt hollow, yet the pain was real, grounding him in this strange world.

Hours passed. Ash leaned against a tree, rubbing his ribs, shoulder, and forearms. Sweat cooled on his skin. The forest whispered in the wind, distant cries of predators echoing faintly. His body ached, but his mind buzzed with excitement.

Then he spotted a hulking creature at the edge of the forest. Its fur bristled like smoldering embers, claws clicking against the rocks, eyes glinting a deep, unidentifiable color. He squinted at his Stats. No level. Just question marks.

Finally a challenge. Ash grinned as he eyed the creature. 

Then he lunged at the hulking predator.

It moved faster than expected. Its jaws clamped down, catching his shoulder mid-swing. Pain shot through his arm — sharper than any VR simulation he'd felt before. He rolled, barely avoiding another strike. Heart hammering, he attacked again. Then another swipe, faster than he could anticipate.

And then… darkness.

Ash's senses faded. The forest, the cliffs, the distant smoke of the village — gone. His body felt weightless, untethered.

Moments later, the world snapped back. He was standing on the outskirts of the village again. Sun low in the sky, smoke curling lazily from chimneys. The same thicket. The same clearing. But he was alive.

A thrill ran through him. Confusion, curiosity, and just a hint of fear. Death would be easy here — that much was obvious — but learning to fight in a form he didn't recognize? That would be a real challenge.