When I first opened my eyes, the world was a blur of white. Ice stretched out before me, its pale sheen reflecting the dim light of a sun barely cutting through the heavy clouds. I lay there for a moment, feeling the bite of cold seep into my bones. I could see a mountain peak in the distance, a jagged gray tooth jutting into the sky, while behind me, a green valley lay nestled under the shadow of dark pines, as though guarding some secret warmth I could no longer remember.
With uncertainty as my only companion, I rose shakily to my feet. The icy wind stung my face, and my breath billowed out in clouds. I took a hesitant step forward, then another, as if testing the very ground beneath me.
“Where… am I?” I whispered, though the words seemed swallowed by the expanse. There was no echo, just the empty silence of a frozen wasteland.
I am Wolf, and let me tell you, waking up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by ice and mountains, was not exactly how I imagined starting the day. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. The chill was setting into my muscles, making it hard to move, and I needed to find shelter.
Just then, the snow shifted beneath me. I heard it before I saw it—an ominous rumble, like the growl of some slumbering beast. The air around me seemed to vibrate with an impending sense of doom. I squinted at the peak, my breath catching as a massive shape unfolded from behind the mountain—a dragon, its scales glinting faintly in the twilight.
As the dragon rose, an army appeared along the ridge. They were clad in armor that gleamed even in the dim light, armed with spears, bows, and swords. Their helmets caught the light, casting glints across the frosty expanse, and suddenly, the world felt smaller, colder. My heart pounded as panic coursed through me.
Time seemed to slow, and in that suspended moment, I felt a change. It began in my chest, a strange warmth that pulsed outward, battling the cold that gripped my limbs. It wasn’t just warmth—it was power. It hummed through me, coursing like a second heartbeat, an echo of something ancient and untamed.
The first arrow sliced through the air. I could feel it, a line of tension rushing toward me. I was the arrow—sharp, swift—then I wasn’t.
The countless explosions around me, bursts of light and sound tearing through the icy stillness. Magic had happened—I was sure of it—but what kind, I had no idea.
But the surge of power didn’t fade; if anything, it only grew stronger, crackling like static just beneath my skin. And now I understood—I could control it. Heat was just the movement of particles, and somehow, I had gained the ability to make them move. But knowing how to use the power was only half the battle. The real problem was the distance—those soldiers were still too far away, and then there was the dragon, its eyes gleaming like hot coals as it watched from above. I had no doubt that as soon as I made a move, they’d light me up like a candle on a birthday cake.
I didn’t have time to second-guess myself. I could only act.
First, I had to get out of this death trap. Ice is water, and water is steam. The idea came to me in a flash, and I focused all that energy into the ground beneath my feet. With a deafening hiss, a geyser of scalding steam erupted, catapulting the icy slab upward. I felt the rush of air whipping past me, the sting of frost in my lungs giving way to the searing heat rising from below. I was flying, rocketing upward like a stone shot from a sling.
The altitude made my head spin, but I had to act fast. I was still accelerating, and this ascent couldn’t last forever. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, but I shoved it aside and focused on a chunk of ice hurtling upward in front of me. I poured everything I had into that small shard, concentrating until it vibrated with heat, glowing brighter and brighter.
The shard flew toward the mountain, streaking like a comet. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but a quiet, suspended moment. Then the world exploded, I had created a second sun. The light was blinding, the shockwave rippling through the air with a force that slammed into my chest like a battering ram. I was thrown backward, limbs flailing as the shock wave sent me tumbling through the sky. Where the mountain had stood, there was now only a swirling cloud of dust and shattered rock.
I was flying again—no, falling. The ground rushed up to meet me.
LEVEL UP
Suddenly my view got spammed with messages. What the hell… I could not finish my thought, with a vomit inducing sound I crashed into something, everything around me became white turning gray and getting darker at an alarming rate. Coldness embraced me, I felt a tiredness I’d never felt before.
DISCOVERED CLASS: Fire Mage
FIRE MAGIC UPGRADED: 3/10
FIRE RESISTANCE UPGRADED 3/10
TITLE “Dragonslayer” ACQUIRED
TITLE “Beowulf’s Heir” ACQUIRED
FIRE RESISTANCE UPGRADED 6/10
FIRE MAGIC UPGRADED: 6/10
TITLE “SNOWBURNER“ ACQUIRED
FROST RESISTANCE UPGRADED 3/10
FIRE MAGIC UPGRADED: 7/10
TITLE: “TABOO BREAKER” ACQUIRED
STORAGE ACQUIRED
…
I felt the tiredness lose its grip on my senses, replaced by a growing resilience against the frost’s numbing effect. If I could just click on the menu, if I could just increase…
FROST RESISTANCE UPGRADED 7/10
FROST RESISTANCE UPGRADED 8/10
FROST RESISTANCE UPGRADED 9/10
FROST RESISTANCE UPGRADED 10/10
STARTED QUEST: Road to immortality
STARTED SUBQUEST: Impervious Elemental Warding
When I woke again, my limbs felt like lead, and a dull ache throbbed in my skull. The ground beneath me was cold and wet, seeping through my clothes. As I blinked away the haze, I noticed the sky—gray, smeared with dust, and the light was strange, too weak and diffuse, like the sun was struggling to reach the earth. I pushed myself up, my body protesting with every movement, and began to stumble forward, heading downward into the valley.
The world had changed.
It wasn’t just the cold or the exhaustion; there was something fundamentally different about the landscape. The air felt heavy, tinged with a faint metallic taste that lingered on my tongue. The ground was a patchwork of cracked earth and ash, with odd patches of pale, phosphorescent lichen glowing faintly in the twilight, casting an eerie greenish hue over the terrain. It was as though the ground itself had absorbed the remnants of the catastrophe that had just scarred the land.
The mountains ahead seemed to sag in the distance, one of the peaks missing, as if a giant had taken a careless bite. Between the ridges, deep fissures had opened, and strange patterns of iridescent mineral deposits glinted in the fading light, as though something unnatural had seeped up from deep within the earth.
If you ever find yourself in a survival situation, remember two things:
- You can go three weeks without food, three days without water, but three seconds of panic can kill you. I was too tired to panic, so no problem.
- Shelter, water, food. In that order.
For now, water was the least of my worries. The heat from… whatever had happened must have vaporized parts of the ancient glaciers, and the runoff still flowed in muddy, ash-laden streams. As the light faded, the temperature dropped sharply, and a chill crept back into the air. The rain started first—cold, needle-like drops stinging my skin—before turning to a soft, relentless snowfall. A steady wind blew down from the valley, funneling toward the gap where the mountain’s peak had once stood, like air being sucked into some unseen void.
At the bottom, I found a small cave carved into the rocky hillside, just large enough to offer some protection from the biting wind. The walls were damp and streaked with odd, dark stains, as though touched by something corrosive long ago. Inside, the air carried a faintly chemical smell, sharp and unpleasant, but it was shelter, and I wasn’t in a position to be picky.
I needed firewood. As I peered outside, I spotted a few twisted, blackened branches scattered near a thicket of hardy, pale shrubs. The branches looked ancient, almost petrified, and when I reached for them, the bark crumbled like ash beneath my fingers. I didn’t know what kind of fire they would make, but it was better than nothing.
I built the fire just inside the cave’s entrance, watching as the flames sputtered to life, their glow casting flickering shadows along the uneven stone walls. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.
Suddenly, a glowing text appeared before my eyes:
WELCOME TO STORAGE. Do you want to read the tutorial…
Instinctively, I dismissed it before I could even think. Damn. Looks like some habits are hard to unlearn, even in the middle of a frozen wasteland.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of what just happened. Was I hallucinating? The exhaustion must be getting to me. I needed to focus. I sat down next to the fire at the cave entrance and hung my wet clothes near the flames, hoping to dry them out. The warmth felt like a gift from the gods—or from my own stubborn will.
As I sat there, rubbing warmth back into my hands, a strange thought crossed my mind. “Inventory,” I muttered under my breath, and in an instant, something flickered into view. It wasn’t in front of my eyes exactly, but more like a window opened in my mind—a cluttered mess of… things. There was no search bar, no organization, just an overwhelming jumble of objects: random trinkets, tools, bits of cloth, and items I didn’t recognize.
What is all this? How do I even have it?
I sifted through the mental chaos, struggling to make sense of the piles of junk. Then, something caught my eye—a flash of red fabric. I focused on it, and the words “Red Mantle” appeared faintly, hovering in my mind’s eye. I thought of it as a blanket, and almost as if responding to my thoughts, the words shifted to “Blanket.”
I blinked, and when I opened my eyes, the blanket was there, draped across my lap as though it had always been. The fabric felt warm and thick, the perfect antidote to the biting cold that clung to the cave walls. I wrapped it around myself and sank back against the rocky surface.
The next morning, I woke to a deep, rolling rumble that echoed through the valley like distant thunder. Landslides, multiple, coming from all directions. I didn’t need to see them to know they were close—too close. I scrambled out of the cave and darted toward the center of the valley, feet pounding against the ground.
The earth seemed to shift beneath me, and I could hear the roar of collapsing rock, punctuated by the occasional snap of ancient ice breaking apart. I ran harder, ignoring the gnawing hunger twisting my stomach. I paused only once, crouching by one of the many icy creeks to gulp down a few mouthfuls of frigid water.
Then, a glowing text flashed in my vision:
RUNNING UPGRADED: 1/10
The words hovered there, surreal and impossible, and before I could even process what it meant, I felt a tingling sensation spread through my legs. Without thinking, I focused on the skill prompt that appeared and upgraded it to ten. Instantly, my strides grew longer, and I felt a surge of energy—my speed increased dramatically. It was like my muscles were suddenly more efficient, my feet lighter on the rough ground.
Wait, what just happened?
CURRENT LEVEL: 682. SKILL POINTS AVAILABLE: 669.
I nearly stumbled. Those numbers… what did they mean? How could I possibly be “Level 682?” And what were all these points for?
I kept running, the valley trembling beneath my feet, dust and debris choking the air. I didn’t have time to stop and figure it out, but as I glanced at the available skills, some things became clearer. Frost Resistance: 10/10. That explained a lot—it must have been maxed out already, probably the only reason I wasn’t a frozen corpse.
The valley rumbled again, and the ground buckled beneath my feet. Dust rose in thick, choking clouds, blotting out what little sunlight filtered through the gray sky. I ran harder, lungs burning, legs pounding with a rhythm that felt both desperate and determined. I tried to push away the questions swirling in my head. All I knew was that I had to survive—and if these strange skills could help me do that, I’d use them. But a nagging fear lingered, a quiet voice in the back of my mind, wondering what any of it really meant.
After what felt like hours, the mountains around me began to recede, their jagged peaks shrinking into gentle hills. The air, once thick with the acrid scent of smoke and ash, grew fresher with every breath, now carrying the crisp aroma of newly-sprouted greenery and damp soil. It was like the earth itself was exhaling after a long-held breath.
By midday, a few rays of sunlight finally pierced through the oppressive gray clouds. I glanced back and saw the mountain range shrouded in darkness, the valley behind me lost in shadow. Before me, a lush expanse of meadows stretched out, their grasses swaying softly under a sky that was slowly clearing, patches of blue peeking through the dissipating mist. The light was different here—softer, warmer, as though it carried the promise of something I couldn’t quite name.
But despite the vibrant scenery, an eerie silence draped the land like a heavy blanket. There were no birds wheeling overhead, no insects buzzing among the blossoms, no rustle of unseen creatures moving through the brush. It was as if the world had paused, waiting for something—or someone—to break the stillness. It unnerved me more than the ash-choked valley had. Silence like this felt unnatural, almost expectant, as though the land itself was holding its breath.
I slowed to a walk, then stopped altogether. My legs trembled, not from fatigue but from the sudden realization that I hadn’t been running toward anything, only away. Away from the cold, from the collapsing valley, from the fear that clawed at my thoughts. I had been fleeing—fleeing danger, fleeing the unknown. But a man can’t run forever. At some point, he has to stop, sit down, and think.
I dropped to the ground, the grass cool against my palms. I drew in a deep breath, then another, trying to calm the hammering of my heart. I needed to remember my own advice: panic kills in three seconds. Right now, I had to clear my head and figure out what to do next. Because if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that this peaceful landscape hid more secrets than it revealed.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet seep in. I had questions—about the skills, about the points, about this world that felt both familiar and alien.
I needed a map. Something to make sense of the chaos. Anything that could give me a hint of where I was or why I was here.
MAP OPEN
The glowing display unfolded in front of me, filled with winding roads, jagged mountains, and scattered forests. I could zoom out, pan around, and even mark points of interest. But no matter how much I moved the view across the tangled web of paths and symbols, the map didn’t help me. There was no sign of the places I knew—no cities, no landmarks, not even the names of continents that were remotely familiar. It was as if the world I had come from had been erased, replaced with this maze of strange locations and alien landscapes.
It felt like a cruel joke. The system was giving me tools, but none of them could answer the only question that mattered: Why was I here? Why had I been ripped from everything I knew? Everyone I loved was gone, and there wasn’t a single trace of the life I’d once had. The map showed nothing but endless roads and empty wilderness, offering no answers, no path home.
I let out a bitter laugh and closed the map, its glowing lines fading back into darkness. It was just another hollow gesture in this twisted game.
So, I went south, letting my feet decide the way. I won’t bore you with the details—it was just more endless walking through silence and shadow. Eventually, I found a small village, left deserted in a hurry. Doors hung open, and a few scattered belongings lay abandoned in the streets, as if the inhabitants had fled for their lives.
The emptiness of the place mirrored the emptiness inside me.
Thankfully, the place wasn’t completely picked clean. There were a few scraps of cloth left behind, a couple of potatoes that hadn’t rotted, and—most importantly—the well still worked. I cranked the old handle, and the bucket rattled as it dropped down into the dark. When it came back up, it was filled with water clear as glass.
I decided to experiment with my storage ability while I had a moment. Here’s what I found out:
First: I can store almost anything, but only if I can see it or know exactly where it is. I need a clear visual in my mind.
Second: The distance for input is theoretically unlimited, as long as I can see or know the location, but output is limited to about thirteen meters.
Third: I almost made a dangerous mistake when I used the storage on the well. Turns out, the water came out looking distilled—perfectly clear but stripped of minerals. Thankfully, I remembered in time that electrolytes are kind of important for staying alive.
(For the nerds out there, a fourth detail: the storage works like a stack, or LIFO—Last In, First Out. Basically, the last item I stored shows up at the top of the inventory list. That explains the chaos I’ve been dealing with.)
I scanned my inventory, and it was just as much of a cluttered mess as before. There were no labels, no categories, just a random jumble of objects. I spotted a helmet somewhere in the pile and mentally “grabbed” it. A moment later, the worn, dented helmet appeared in my hands. Not ideal for cooking, but it would do.
I filled it with water from the well and used a touch of magic to spark a small fire—magic really is convenient. I dropped in the potatoes and let the water boil, watching the steam rise and curl into the air. The scent of cooking was almost comforting.
But as I took the first sip of the steaming water, a text flickered in front of my eyes:
POISON RESISTANCE UPGRADED 1/10.
What…? My pulse quickened. I could already feel a light dizziness settling in. It wasn’t the water itself—must be the potatoes. Something about cooking them had leached toxins into the water.
Better safe than sorry—I quickly bumped the Poison Resistance skill up to ten. The light-headedness faded, replaced by a slight tingling in my fingertips, like my body was expelling whatever harmful substance I’d just ingested.
Another text flashed before me:
STARTED SUBQUEST: Impervious Bio Warding.
Great. I set the helmet down and gave the potatoes a suspicious look. They seemed perfectly normal, but I guessed that whatever toxins had been inside them had seeped out into the water during boiling.
As I chewed, I kept scrolling through my cluttered inventory. I was sure I’d seen an egg in there somewhere. An egg would be a great source of protein, and it would certainly beat another mouthful of tasteless potato. I focused on the thought of the egg, and a moment later, the air shimmered as it began to materialize.
But it wasn’t just an egg—it was a massive egg. The thing was the size of a boulder, and before I could even react, it dropped to the ground with a deafening thud, sending a shockwave of dirt and debris flying. I stumbled backward, my heart pounding as I narrowly avoided being flattened.
What the hell?! I stared at the enormous egg, my breath coming in quick gasps. It loomed over me like some ancient relic, its pale shell streaked with faint veins of blue and gray. The thing was easily taller than I was, a monstrosity that had no business fitting into any kind of “normal” inventory.
I took a step back, half-expecting it to crack open and unleash some kind of prehistoric beast. Is this even edible? I had no idea what kind of creature would lay an egg this size, but it wasn’t exactly chicken-sized, that was for sure.
Maybe I needed to be a little more careful when pulling things out of storage. Who knew what else was buried in that chaotic mess of items?
I circled the egg cautiously, reaching out to touch its smooth surface. It was cold to the touch, the shell impossibly hard. I thought about trying to cook it, but with an egg this size, I’d need a bonfire just to warm it up.
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