Boran was floating above a dying world. Far below, creatures covered the land like ants. They moved in black waves, swallowing roads, forests, cities. The edges of the world were breaking apart, and darkness crawled in from every side.
People were still fighting. Spells crashed in the sky. The colors were beautiful for a second, then ugly again when they lit up the bodies below.
Boran looked down at his right hand and saw his fingers glowing. His thumb burned crimson. His index finger shone violet. His middle finger glowed sapphire blue. His ring finger was emerald green. His pinky was golden yellow. The colors grew brighter when he focused on them.
He did not know what they were, but he knew they belonged to him. Power. Real power. He raised his hand toward the battlefield. The lights gathered around his fingers, and something in the air pulled tight, like a bowstring.
If he moved now, something huge would happen.
Boran smiled.
Then his head hit the bus window, and pain snapped him awake.
He opened his eyes to heat, sweat, and too many bodies pressed too close together. Someone’s backpack dug into his shoulder. The bus engine rattled under his feet. His forehead throbbed where it had struck the glass.
For a few seconds, the dying world stayed in his mind.
Then Adana returned.
The city passed outside the window, orange under the sunset. Boran blinked and tried to breathe normally.
Only two more stops until "Geçit" (The Gate).
The bus pulled up to Kesişim Meydanı (Intersection Square), the final stop inside Adana city limits. Most passengers got off. Boran stayed in his seat.
Only people with Gate clearance remained on the bus. Each of them carried the same blue card with a red stripe, earned after two years of mandatory military service and final approval for Gate entry. Boran had checked his own card so many times that the corner had started to bend.
He checked it again anyway. It was still there. Still real.
As the bus continued toward the foothills, the city slowly disappeared behind them. Buildings became fewer. Roads became emptier. The recruits grew quieter too.
Hours later, near the final stop before The Gate, something appeared above the mountains. The sky had split open.
The tear shone with crimson, violet, sapphire blue, emerald green, and golden yellow. For one uncomfortable second, Boran remembered the colors on his hand in the dream. Then the light spread over the mountain road and entered the bus, moving across the passengers’ faces in slow waves. Nobody spoke for a while.
Then two recruits across the aisle started whispering.
"Did you check the class list?" one asked.
"Yeah. Pyromancer looks good," the other said. "Fireballs. Easy choice."
"Easy until something immune to fire shows up."
"Shut up. What about you?"
"Swordmaster."
"Your funeral. Internet says Swordmasters die fast."
"Doesn't matter anyway, right? The Gate checks your stats and gives recommendations."
"They're just recommendations. Even if Swordmaster comes up low, you can still choose it, you'll just have a worse aptitude for it."
"So I can still choose it."
Boran turned back to the window.
Damage. That was what he wanted. Something strong. Something obvious. Magic sounded good, but a blade had its own appeal too.
The bus continued for another half hour through rougher roads. The colored rift above the mountains grew brighter. Finally, the vehicle stopped at a military checkpoint.
The bus passed through the gate and stopped near a concrete facility built into the mountainside. The doors opened with a hiss.
A tall man in uniform waited outside.
"Stand at attention," he said. "The others are waiting. Form a single line and follow me."
The recruits got off and followed him inside.
The facility was cleaner than Boran expected. Polished concrete floors. Reinforced walls. Bright lights that made everyone look pale. It felt less like the entrance to another world and more like a hospital.
Eventually, their group entered an amphitheater. Hundreds of seats faced a raised platform. Other recruits were already there. In the center stood a small version of The Gate, sealed inside a transparent chamber.
A woman in a white lab coat stood beside it.
"Welcome to The Gate," she said. "I'm Dr. Leyla, lead researcher."
Boran sat down with the others.
Dr. Leyla explained the basics. Gates had appeared four years ago in Türkiye and other countries. Creatures came through. People died. Most Gates closed after the creatures were killed.
This one had not.
It was the only controlled tear left in the country.
"On the other side, you will gain abilities through classes," Dr. Leyla continued. "Warriors, Mages, Rogues, Supports, and rare Special classes. The tablet in your hands contains basic information."
An assistant began handing out devices.
"After medical screening, an experienced adventurer will speak with you before transition. This is not combat training. You have already completed the required two years of military service to earn your clearance. His role is to prepare you mentally for the crossing and for what waits beyond it. Then you pass through. The Gate will measure your potential and recommend classes. The final choice is yours."
A thin recruit raised his hand.
"Is the transition dangerous?"
"Survival rate is 94.7%," Dr. Leyla said.
The room went quiet.
"Most complications come from health conditions. That is why we screen again."
Another recruit frowned. "We already had tests before getting clearance."
"Those were baseline tests," Dr. Leyla said. "This chamber is inside The Gate's influence. Your bodies are being exposed right now. We need to confirm that exposure is not causing problems."
Boran looked down at his hands. He had come this far. If some hidden issue stopped him now, everything would be over before it began. The thought scared him more than he wanted to admit, and that annoyed him almost as much as the fear itself.
He looked at the tablet. The screen showed classes.
He tapped Warriors first. "Masters of physical combat who excel in close-quarters battle. High strength and endurance. Subclasses include Swordmaster, Berserker, and Weapon Specialist."
“Alright, everyone knows these.”
Then Mages. "Wielders of elemental and arcane forces. High intelligence and mana capacity. Subclasses include Pyromancer, Necromancer, and Arcanist."
“I know these from games, too…”
Rogues sounded fast. Supports sounded useful, which was another way of saying someone else got the glory.
A stocky recruit near the front raised his hand.
"Dr. Leyla, about Berserker. Does the rage scale with..."
"Save specific class questions," Dr. Leyla said. "Mariusz Kowalski will address what he can before transition, but remember, he is not here to train you from zero. You have already received your military preparation. My role is administrative and scientific."
The recruit lowered his hand.
Boran kept scrolling through the tablet.
Spellblade. Shadow Dancer. Paladin.
Everything sounded possible.
That was the worst part.
Two hours of medical examinations and paperwork passed in a blur.
Blood tests. Heart tests. Brain scans. More forms. More waiting.
When the results came through, the medical officer announced that all recruits had passed.
Relief hit Boran harder than he expected. His shoulders loosened, and his hands relaxed around the tablet. He had been gripping it too tightly without noticing.
He smiled a little. Of course he had passed. That was what he told himself, anyway.
They filed back into the amphitheater. The small Gate still swirled at the center, throwing colored light across the walls.
Then a man entered from a side door. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a scar running from his left temple down to his jaw. Whispers started at once.
"Wait. Is that him?"
"No way."
"Mariusz Kowalski."
"The Polish legend?"
Boran’s eyes widened.
Everyone knew Mariusz Kowalski. One of Europe’s top adventurers. There were videos about him, articles, interviews, quotes, arguments online about whether he was overrated.
And now he was standing in front of them.
"Good afternoon," Mariusz said. His Turkish was accented but clear. "Yes, I am who you think I am. And yes, my Turkish is not perfect. But we understand each other, so this is enough."
A few recruits laughed nervously.
"I am not here to train you," Mariusz continued. "I am here for the last part before crossing. To make sure your heads are in the right place. I have seen many Gates. I have also seen many fools die."
The room became quiet.
"You want to know what it is like inside? I will tell you the truth."
He began pacing.
"My first Gate was in Warsaw. I was excited like you. I thought I understood what waited for me." He gave a short laugh. "I understood nothing."
"The air is different. Your body feels wrong. And the creatures are not animals from our world. Do not assume you understand them."
He touched the scar on his face.
"In my second week, I saw a Mage cast fire at something that looked like a wolf. The wolf ate the fire. Then it breathed it back at us, stronger. We lost two people because someone thought they knew the enemy."
"In Germany, my party entered an abandoned fortress. We found nests of spider-like creatures, each one the size of a horse. They dropped from the ceiling and came through the walls—it was an ambush. Our Guardian took hit after hit protecting our healer. He survived, but barely. He had to retire afterward; the poison cost him both hands."
A recruit raised a trembling hand.
"How do you keep going after that?"
Mariusz looked at the recruit for a moment.
"Because there is power on the other side of fear. Real power. And money, of course."
This time the laughter was weaker.
"My first dungeon clear changed my body. I became stronger, faster, harder to kill. Stats stopped being numbers. They became real. But you pay for every level. Sweat, blood, fear. Sometimes friends."
He crossed his arms.
"So when you choose your class, remember this: it’s not only how you fight—it’s what kind of person you will become, or perhaps already are. The Gate will make a recommendation. You will make the choice. Listen to both the Gate and yourself."
Mariusz straightened.
"In thirty minutes, we go through. Use this time to prepare your mind. Meditate, pray, whatever helps. When we go, I need you calm and ready. Understand?"
"Yes, sir!"
Boran said it with the others. His voice came out stronger than he felt.
Thirty minutes. In thirty minutes, everything would change.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus, but it did not work. His mind kept jumping to possibilities. Lightning in his hands. A sword that cut through steel. Speed no enemy could follow. Some rare class that made people turn and stare.
Whatever The Gate offered, it had to be strong. It had to be something that mattered.
Mariusz cleared his throat. "One more thing."
The room quieted again as he held up his phone.
"You have five minutes. Call family. Friends. Loved ones. Once we go through, you may not return for weeks or months. Phones do not work there. Most electronics do not work. If you need to say something, say it now."
That hit the room harder than the survival rate.
Phones came out.
Some recruits dialed immediately. Some stared at their screens. A girl two rows ahead started crying before anyone even answered.
Boran took out his phone. Two names stared back from his recent calls: Annem and Elif.
His mother. His little sister.
He had not spoken to either of them in a long time. A year, maybe longer. The silence had grown slowly, then became normal.
His finger moved toward Annem, then stopped. It moved toward Elif, then stopped again.
What would he say? I'm leaving for another world. I might not come back for months. I miss you. I'm scared. Sorry.
None of it fit inside five minutes.
Around him, people were already talking. Someone promised to come back stronger. Someone else kept saying "I love you" again and again.
Boran locked his jaw.
Maybe it was better not to call. That would be awkward.
He would go through The Gate. He would survive. When he came back stronger, maybe then he would know what to say.
The thought sounded weak, even inside his own head.
He wanted to prove himself. To them, to everyone. He wanted to come back with something real in his hands.
Maybe that would be enough.
Maybe it would not.
His thumb moved to the lock screen, and the wallpaper appeared.
A photograph.
His mother. His father. Elif. Him.
All of them together, back when being together still felt possible. His mother’s cautious smile. His father’s calm face. Elif laughing at something Boran had said. Boran himself, younger and softer and stupid enough to think things would stay that way.
He stared at it for a while. This was enough. It had to be. When he returned, he would find his way back to them.
He pressed the power button, and the screen went dark, taking the memories with it.
Mariusz stood. "Come. It is time."
They left the amphitheater in a tight, nervous group. The walk felt too long and too short. Boran barely saw the corridors. His mind was already ahead of him.
Then they stepped outside.
The Gate stood in a wide plaza. It was not a normal doorway. It was a vertical pool of rippling light inside an old stone arch. The surface moved like water.
Small shops lined the plaza. Their signs were simple: "PROVISIONS," "BASIC GEAR," "LAST MINUTE ESSENTIALS." People bought things quickly, then walked through The Gate like it was normal.
Mariusz led the recruits close enough for Boran to feel pressure against his skin.
As they formed a loose line, Mariusz placed a hand on Boran’s shoulder as he passed.
The contact lasted maybe two seconds.
Still, this was Mariusz. A legend. And for one short moment, that legend had looked at him like he belonged here.
Boran knew it was probably nothing. Mariusz was only checking on them.
But he still stood a little straighter after that.
"Listen carefully," Mariusz said. "When you pass through, you will feel wrong. Some of you will vomit. Do not fight it. Stay loose. Keep moving. Five seconds. You can handle five seconds."
He looked at them one by one.
"Follow me. Stay close. Do not wander when we arrive."
"Yes, sir!"
Mariusz turned and walked into The Gate.
The light swallowed him.
For one heartbeat, nobody moved.
Then the recruits surged forward.
Boran moved with them.
Three steps. Two. One.
The surface filled his vision, and he stepped through.
Wrong.
Everything was wrong. His stomach twisted. His body stretched and folded at the same time.
“Keep moving. Keep moving.”
Then he was through.
Boran stumbled forward, barely keeping his balance. His stomach tried to climb out of his throat, but he swallowed hard and forced himself to breathe.
Around him, other recruits emerged. Some gasped. Some bent over. A few vomited.
The space before him was huge. He could not see where it ended. Buildings rose in every direction. Some were stone, some crystal, some looked like they had grown out of the ground. Roads led to more Gates, each one a different color.
Markets filled the spaces between them. Weapons, armor, potions, scrolls, and strange objects sat on display. In the distance, adventurers trained while magic flashed and steel rang.
And there were so many people. Not recruits. Adventurers.
A woman passed in armor that moved like liquid metal. A man carried a staff full of lightning. A party of five walked by laughing, their gear covered in scratches and old bloodstains.
They had survived. They had become strong. Boran wanted that so badly it almost hurt.
Then he looked up. The sky was not blue. It was a moving sea of purple, pink, blue, orange, green and red. Stars appeared inside it, then disappeared again.
Boran stood there with his mouth slightly open.
This was real. This was actually real.
"Impressive, yes?" Mariusz said. "Every time, same reaction."
He gestured around them.
"Welcome to the Hub. The place between worlds. This is where your real life begins."
[System Loading Started…]
The words appeared in Boran’s vision.
[System Loading… 12%]
He blinked, but the words stayed.
Around him, other recruits reacted to things Boran could not see. Their eyes went distant. Some smiled. Some looked confused.
"Sir! My system loaded!"
Mariusz turned. "How long?"
"Twelve seconds, sir!"
"Very good. Strong affinity."
[System Loading… 19%]
Boran stared at the number. Still loading.
"Eighteen seconds!"
Mariusz raised his voice. "Loading time shows System Affinity. High affinity means the System helps you more. Low affinity does not mean failure. It means you work harder."
[System Loading… 27%]
Twenty-seven percent.
"Loaded, sir! Thirty-one seconds!"
"Mine too! Forty-two!"
[System Loading… 34%]
More voices joined in. "Done!" "Loaded!" "One minute, twelve seconds!"
Boran swallowed. The number was moving, but too slowly.
[System Loading… 42%]
A girl to his left whispered, "It's beautiful."
A boy on his right said, "Look at all these classes..."
Boran kept watching the percentage.
[System Loading… 51%]
Mariusz called out, "Everyone loaded, raise your hand."
Hands went up across the group.
Boran’s hand stayed down.
[System Loading… 58%]
Only a few were still waiting now. Then fewer. Then fewer.
[System Loading… 64%]
“Come on.”
[System Loading… 71%]
"Those still loading, don't panic," Mariusz said. "You can catch up. I will help if needed."
It was supposed to be reassuring, but it made Boran feel worse.
"Everyone else, open Class Selection. Read carefully. There is no perfect class. There is only what fits you."
[System Loading… 82%]
The recruits around him were already reading their options.
"I have seventeen classes."
"I only have eight, but look at this. Flame Dancer.”
Boran stared forward. He was still outside the door while everyone else had already entered.
[System Loading… 93%]
“Almost…”
[System Loading… 96%]
“Almost…”
Then he realized he was the only one left. People glanced at him now. Quick looks at first. Then longer ones.
[System Loading… 99%]
”One more. Just one more.”
The number did not move.
Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Thirty.
Around him, recruits talked about classes, stats, skills. Their voices blurred together.
[System Loading… 99%]
Still.
Someone whispered, "Is his broken?"
"I don't know."
"Poor guy."
Boran’s face grew hot. Mariusz noticed too. His eyes landed on Boran for a moment, then moved away. He kept speaking to the others, and that somehow made it worse.
[System Loading… 99%]
Boran tried to breathe. It was just a delay. Just one percent.
The number did not move.
Then the text changed.
[System Error: Compatibility Issue Detected]
[Your neural pattern indicates compatibility with Legacy System Architecture]
[Current System Version: 7.2.4 (Standard)]
[Recommended System Version: 8.0.0-beta (Closed Beta)]
Before he could call for Mariusz, the interface changed again.
[Initiating System Version Update...]
[Updating to Version 8.0.0-beta]
Then it finished instantly.
[System Update Complete]
[Welcome to the System, Boran]
Information flooded his vision. Health. Mana. Stats. Notifications. A map in the corner. Too much at once.
Boran staggered, then steadied himself.
At the center of everything was one panel.
[CLASS SELECTION]
Finally.
The list stretched down farther than he could see.
Warrior — A versatile combatant skilled in melee weapons and tactics.
Mage — A wielder of arcane forces, capable of devastating magical attacks.
Rogue — A master of stealth, precision, and cunning.
Cleric — A divine spellcaster focused on healing and support.
More names followed.
Beastmaster.
Artificer.
Necromancer.
Boran’s heart sped up. So many choices.
He focused on Elementalist first.
Nothing happened.
He tried again. Nothing.
He focused harder. Still nothing.
A cold feeling formed in his stomach.
No. Not again.
He tried Warrior. Nothing.
Mage. Nothing.
Rogue. Nothing.
One by one, he tried the others, and the interface ignored him.
Except for one option at the very top.
[TANK]
Plain blue text.
Boran focused on it.
The panel opened immediately.
[CLASS: TANK]
[Description: A frontline defender who absorbs damage and protects allies. Tanks possess the highest defense among all classes, but also the lowest damage output. They excel at holding enemy attention and anchoring defensive positions in battle.]
He read the words once. Then again.
A defender. A protector. The highest defense in the entire System, paired with the lowest damage output. Someone who stood in front and took hits for others.
He hated it immediately.
In games, Tanks were useful. Necessary, even. But this was not a game. Pain was real here. Wounds were real. If a monster broke your ribs, you felt every second of it.
And the Tank's job was to let that happen. On purpose. For strangers.
Boran had not come here to be a shield. He had come here to become powerful. To be remembered. To return as someone no one could look down on.
He wanted a class that looked cool—flashy skills that could drop a monster in a single move.
How was a Tank supposed to do that?
What did a legendary Tank even sound like?
Pathetic.
The description continued.
[Primary Role: Damage Absorption & Threat Management]
[Core Statistics:]
Vitality: Very High
Endurance: Very High
Strength: Moderate
Agility: Very Low
Intelligence: Very Low
Endure. Survive.
[Starting Abilities:]
[1. Fortify]
Type: Self-Buff
Effect: Increases your physical defense by 5 points for 15 seconds. While active, you gain increased resistance to knockback effects.
Cooldown: 30 seconds
Mana Cost: 5
A defense buff. Boring, but useful.
[2. Taunt]
Type: Threat Management
Effect: Forces enemies within a 10-meter radius to focus their attacks on you for 8 seconds. Only enemies up to 5 levels above your current level can be affected. Bosses, mini-bosses, and enemies more than 5 levels above you are immune. If Taunt fails, it has no effect.
Cooldown: 45 seconds
Mana Cost: 5
Forces enemies to attack you...
[3. Shield Slam]
Type: Offensive/Control
Effect: Deliver a powerful shield strike that deals moderate physical damage (2) and stuns the target for 2 seconds. Damage scales with your current defense rating.
Cooldown: 12 seconds
Mana Cost: 2
Finally, an attack.
[4. Defensive Stance]
Type: Concentration
Effect: Enter a defensive posture that reduces all incoming damage by 10. While in this stance, you can’t move.
Duration: Toggle
Mana Cost: 0.5 per second while active
Reduced damage sounded good. Not being able to move was not.
The final line appeared.
[Recommended Playstyle: Position yourself between enemies and your allies. Your survival ensures your team's survival.]
Fine.
If this was the only path the System allowed, he would take it. But he would not pretend to be grateful.
Boran mentally confirmed the selection.
[Class Selected: TANK]
[Welcome to your journey, Defender.]
Boran stared at the word.
Then he looked past the glowing text, toward the adventurers moving through the Hub.
He clenched his hands.
Fine, he thought again. If the System wanted a Tank, it would get one.
But someday, somehow, people would remember his name anyway.