"Huh… This is? Awkward."
Nathan found himself sitting, stranded, really, in the middle of an unfamiliar room. Four blank walls surrounded him, with only a single locked door barring any potential escape. No windows, no clock, just sterile emptiness and silence.
But could he truly say it was nowhere?
This place, this strange reality had a name. Not necessarily the exact location he sat in, but the world itself. He was sure of that.
"Origin Expanse".
Yes, that was it. If memory hadn't failed him.
Nathan squinted, scratching his head. He couldn't be completely confident. After all, Earth, Gaia, as it was once romantically called had collapsed centuries ago. The vibrant civilization that once brimmed with skyscrapers, digital marvels, and global governance had crumbled. In its place, a new order had risen, one no longer ruled by presidents or kings, but by an enigmatic group known simply as the Awakened.
Who were they, exactly? The full story always seemed out of reach. Nathan only knew fragments, rumors passed between residents of the City Safe Zones, the last vestiges of structured life on Earth, protected and regulated by these mysterious beings.
The Awakened were more than warriors or leaders. They were revered, feared, and mythologized. And supposedly, it all started with a voice.
"A voice… right. I heard one too," Nathan realized, a shiver racing down his spine.
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That voice, calm yet omnipotent had echoed in his mind, even though he remembered being fast asleep at the time. He'd initially chalked it up to a vivid dream. The next words had sounded almost like a summons.
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The memories began lining up. It was becoming clearer now. After that, he'd seen something else, a prompt of sorts:
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He hadn't hesitated. Drowsy, barely aware of what was happening, he'd said yes out of instinct. No forethought, no hesitation. Just an impulsive answer from a mind half-lost in dreams.
Then next came the warning:
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That was it. That was the sequence of events. He was no longer on Earth. No longer in bed. Somehow, somewhere, Nathaniel Lockwood had become an Awakened. Or at least... a newly initiated one, a pre-awakened as you would term it.
"Right," he muttered, voice dry. "This screen must be proof."
Before him, a transparent interface hovered in the air, ethereal, surreal, yet undeniably real.
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[Name]: Nathaniel Lockwood
[Age]: 15
[Race]: Human
[Rank]: Dormant
[Level]: -
[Stats]: Locked
[Available Stat Points: -]
[Talent]: Locked
---
He studied it in silence.
"Oi-!"
"So this is what every Awakened sees? Or… what an incomplete Awakened sees?"
"Oi-!"
His name? Correct. Race? Obviously human. The dormant rank meant he existed between the bridge of an awakened and a non-awakened, a show of his yet-to-pass over the trial stage. It's also why the level is blank, applicable to those who hadn't yet passed the trial.
"Oi-!"
Then came the stats information. The unlocked version would probably display things like strength, agility, and more of the likes of it. He presumed from his understanding of gaming preference.
"Oi—!!!"
A heavy boot slammed into Nathan's side, knocking him flat onto the cold floor.
Pain bloomed along his ribs. He groaned, lifting his eyes to the source of the voice.
Standing over him was a man, no, a brute reeking of aggression. Extremely tall that the 5'7 Nathan dwarfed before him, broad-shouldered and rough around the edges, he sported a thick chain around his neck and, strangely, another looped through his nose. Nathan blinked. A nose chain? He didn't realize noses were fashion accessories now.
"Are you mocking me, kid?!" the man barked, grabbing Nathan by the collar and lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease.
Nathan's mind scrambled, still trying to process the surreal nature of it all, his new environment, the floating interface, and now, this violent man who seemed eager to rearrange his face.
"Hey, knock it off!"
A calmer voice interjected.
A figure stepped between them, forcibly prying the thug's grip off Nathan. He was tall, considerably enough though not quite reaching the thug's height, dressed in a cheap black suit that screamed underpaid office worker, the newcomer stood firm.
"He's just a kid," the man said plainly, glancing over his shoulder.
Nathan collapsed back to the ground, breath short. He studied the man who'd intervened. He seemed ordinary, unassuming, the kind of person easily overlooked. Probably one of those goody-two-shoes who stepped in out of moral obligation rather than courage.
Then came another voice, soft, aged, yet unwavering.
"I agree. We ought to focus on understanding our predicament, not tearing each other apart."
An elderly woman approached, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. Her silver hair flowed like a river of time, and her eyes held the weight of years.
"Boy, are you alright?" she asked kindly, extending a hand.
Nathan hesitated. Given her frail form, accepting her help would've been selfish. One wrong tug and she could throw out her back or worse.
"I'm fine, ma'am," he replied, pushing himself to his feet instead.
At full height, his eyes scanned the room again. His gaze landed on the final figure.
A girl.
Unlike the others, she was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, face partially obscured by a black hoodie. Youth radiated from her, the same age range as him, maybe even younger. Slender, poised, confident. Her posture didn't scream fear or confusion. She looked ready.
Nathan swallowed. She had the kind of presence that left impressions.
So, let's tally this: a violent thug, a meek office worker, a wise old woman, a mysterious girl and him, a recluse with no combat experience, socially stunted, and addicted to junk food.
This was his group?
The tutorial stage was said to be a cooperative trial, requiring teams of freshly awakened to work together to survive. And this ragtag bunch was his team?
Nathan sighed, dread creeping into his chest like cold water seeping into his shoes.
Bleak. Hopeless.
But what did he really know? He was just a shut-in dragged into a world far beyond anything he'd ever imagined.
And the game had only just begun.