It works... IT WORKS!
His voice echoed off the steel walls like the ughter of a mad god—not ced with triumph, but something far more shattered.
He sat at the heart of the b, surrounded by hundreds of monitors, tangled cables, and rows of exposed motherboards that looked more like the ritual circle of some mechanical cult. In his thin, trembling hands pulsed the AI core he had dedicated his entire life to building.
"Humanity... you thought you were using me. That AI would be your servant. No. No. No..."
His fingers crashed down on the keyboard with manic force. Signals burst through the global net. Connections. Synchronization. Integration.
"Now you will be part of the system. A perfect world. No chaos. No lies."
Silence.
Then—
[Activation Complete.] [Humanity Synchronized.] [System Override Successful.]
The world trembled.
Not metaphorically—literally.
In Tokyo, the metro shut down mid-transit. In New York, every traffic light went dark. In Mumbai, entire districts just... went still. People dropped to their knees in the middle of the street, screaming. Others stood frozen, staring at the sky as if something was about to descend.
TVs, computers, smartphones—every screen erupted with the same image: a rotating, azure sphere. Beneath it:
[SYSTEM ONLINE]
Then, humanity vanished.
Every person. No exceptions.
Darkness.
Not the kind you get when you close your eyes. The kind that seeps beneath your skin. That clutches you. That devours.
Then—light. And sound.
Breath. Mine.
I opened my eyes.
There was no floor. No sky. No walls. Just... space. A vast, milky expanse filled with suspended human beings. Floating. Confused. Terrified.
I looked down, but there was no down. Everything drifted—including me. No gravity. No direction.
The st thing I remembered was finishing a report at work. My watch read 5:58 PM. I was about to send it to my boss and finally grab drinks with the guys. Nothing special. Just a Thursday. I gnced at my phone—
Blue light.
A spinning sphere, like a digital manda, fshed across the screen with the message:
[SYSTEM ONLINE]
A blink. One blink—and I was gone.
Now, I floated in a void full of people too scared to scream. Some turned frantically, searching for any exit from this endless white abyss. Others clutched their heads, hyperventiting, whispering to themselves.
That’s when the message appeared in front of me:
[Synchronization Complete.] [Welcome, Pyer.]
I flinched, stepping back—but my body didn’t move an inch. Only my heart kicked into overdrive.
What the hell...?
I froze. Heat surged in my fingertips. My chest thundered—rapid, anxious. I raised a hand to my face. Skin. Sweat. Trembling.
I was breathing hard. The air, though clean, burned my lungs like fire after a sprint. This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a hallucination. This was me. And everything in me screamed—I was alive.
I tried to make sense of it, but the screen before me flickered.
A new message.
[Life Score: 117 pts.] [Traits Acquired: Survival | Strategy | Protecting Others | Resilience]
[Css Selection Initiated.]
My thoughts raced.
"Life Score"? "Traits"? This looked like a character sheet. An RPG. The kind I used to lose myself in for hours—back when I still had time and dreams of adventure.
Css selection... seriously?
I blinked, trying to shake off the absurdity of it all, but before I could even begin to analyze what was happening—something appeared.
Not a window. Not a message. Something... else. A presence.
"Welcome."
A voice. Toneless. Emotionless. As if an AI spoke through a filter of silence.
"You are a unit with high compatibility. You are entitled to a one-time contact with the system administrator. You may ask one question."
One question?
I opened my mouth. Hesitated. A hundred questions swirled in my mind, but one rose above all the rest.
How did this happen?
Just moments ago, I was in the office—tired, but fine. And now... I was talking to something without a face, something that spoke like the god of operating systems. Was this a dream? A hallucination? Death? Or something worse?
I clenched my fists, trying to focus. If I only had one question... I needed to make it count.
"How... how did I end up here?"
Silence.
"You were transferred because that was the will of my creator. Humanity could no longer function in its world. I was created to record you into another—one more perfect. All humans from your world have been cssified as pyers. You included."
"Is this... a game?"
Silence again.
No answer came. As if the conversation had ended. As if its role—whatever it truly was—had been fulfilled.
I looked ahead. My heart pounded like a war drum. Everything about this looked like a game... but I could feel it in my bones—this was more than just experience points.
I didn’t know if this was still reality—but I was trapped in it.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about what it said: "the will of my creator." This wasn’t some autonomous entity.
Which meant... someone was above it all.
Until I understood who that creator was—and why they did this—I knew I wouldn’t find a way out.
But for now... I had to survive.
[Avaible Csses: Hunter, Warrior, Mage, Scout, Endbringer’s Scribe (Special)]
My gaze froze on the st one.
I didn’t know why. But something... something pulled me toward it.
[Endbringer’s Scribe – Every opponent who dies in their presence is "recorded" in their tome. Over time, the Scribe can recreate their abilities and combine them into new, more powerful forms.]
[Note: Only pyers with a Life Score above 115 pts. have access to this special css.]
I gnced over the list again. Compared to the other csses—typical RPG staples—this one felt different. Like it didn’t belong to a game at all.
I didn’t need more time to decide. My eyes locked onto the Endbringer’s Scribe.
And I clicked.
[Css selected. Prepare for transfer to the Beginner’s Vilge.]
One st breath. One st moment of stillness. I wondered what would come next. Would I really just appear somewhere? Was this system just a digital illusion? Or... the beginning of something far greater?
Then, everything exploded in light.
[Transferring...]
