The very detailed plan I was constructing to brutally murder the blue box is tragically interrupted by the sound of people groaning and scrambling upright. Judging by the dramatic gasping and knee-holding, they must have collapsed earlier.
Tragic.
Honestly, watching them struggle to recover from their embarrassing lack of fortitude is slightly painful. They’re drawing more attention to their failure by being loud about it, like someone defending themselves after stealing the last chip from a blessedly perfect bag of chips.
I graciously decide to overlook their social crimes and finally glance around, only to be met with a world that is… more. Beyond the usual human range. I can see individual blades of grass swaying as a breeze ghosts over them, the veins in every leaf decorating the surrounding forest, every wrinkle on the clothing of the now-not-quite-human man standing ten meters away. And beyond him, dozens more, all wearing the same expression: a perfect blend of confusion, horror, and existential dread.
I blink.
…Interesting.
My gaze drifts across the collection of bodies lifting themselves off dirt and grass. Matching what I see to my extensive and totally healthy familiarity with fantasy races—information which I absolutely did not acquire while doom scrolling comparative ear charts from DnD homebrew forums—the picture becomes clear.
Elves with ridiculously pointy ears helping stout dwarves upright. Tiny gnomes and faeries staring in quiet fear at the now towering humanoids around them. Foxkin. Catkin. Wolfkin. A few things that look like someone randomized a character creator and hit “confirm” without hesitation.
I even spot someone with wings and a tail, almost draconic.
Everyone—and I mean everyone—has one of four weapons strapped somewhere on their person: longswords, wands clipped to belts, bows with quivers slung across backs, and long wooden staffs. The sight of several gnomes and faeries eyeing their comically miniature swords fills me with brief pity.
Brief.
Because something infinitely more important catches my attention: me.
My comfy black pajamas are gone, replaced with a short beige tunic that ends just below my hips, flowing into a matching skirt that stops just above my knees. Underneath, shorts. Thank every star in the cosmos.
I can still feel my favorite underwear—extremely comfortable, as all things should be, maximizing the eleven-and-a-half hours of beauty sleep crucial for maintaining my status as the most perfect, humble being alive.
A snug belt sits at my waist, keeping the tunic from misbehaving in the breeze, and holding a sheathed sword at my left hip. My feet are in simple leather boots with white socks peeking out.
And of course—trailing behind me—a snowy white fox tail sways lazily, poking through a conveniently placed gap in my tunic. Instinctively, I reach up and confirm: yes, there are extremely fluffy ears sitting atop my head.
My mouth also feels… different.
I run my tongue over my teeth and pause as I find my canines—longer now. Sharper.
Noticeably so.
…
Mildly concerning.
Naturally, I react exactly the way any rational person would upon discovering they have been forcibly transformed into a fox girl.
I shrug.
Could’ve been worse.
Reluctantly, my attention shifts back to what the System said—specifically the cheerful part about “endless hordes of undead” and “working together to survive.”
Glancing at the jittery mass of newly-minted fantasy races awkwardly wiping grass and dirt off themselves, the logical conclusion becomes glaringly obvious.
Without hesitation, I spin on my heel and begin walking toward the forest full of monsters and probable death.
Dramatically stabbing a goblin to death is almost certainly going to be less of a headache than engaging in small talk.
Fortunately, everyone is too emotionally compromised to stop me. Which is ideal— otherwise I’d have to stab them too, and social murder is way harder to justify on day one.
Just kidding.
I would never stab someone over something so small.
…Probably.
Within moments I disappear into the treeline, following one of several rough paths leading away from the clearing. Once I’m well out of sight, I break into a run—letting the motion burn the last traces of irritation out of my bloodstream.
After a few minutes, I veer off the path and stop beneath a tree with a particularly inviting branch roughly five meters up. The foliage obscures it well—perfect for hiding.
I map the path upward automatically. A hop, a grab, a shift of weight, and then a fluid climb I’d like everyone to appreciate but sadly no one is here to witness. Tragic.
In seconds I’m perched comfortably on the branch, back against the trunk.
Time for a plan.
Mental checklist:
Step one: check status.
Step two: figure out how Inspect works and use it on everything.
Step three: acquire a weak monster and stab it repeatedly, for scientific data.
Step four: investigate the strange flow inside my eyes.
I nod once—a dignified gesture—and will the window to appear.
Instantly, the blue box fills my vision again.
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Lyn
Health: 100 / 100
Stamina: 94 / 100
Mana: 0 / 0
Race: Foxkin (Level 0 | Tier 0)
Class: Warrior [Common] (Level 0 | Tier 0)
Aspect:
Traits:
Titles:
Stats
Vitality: 10
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 10
Perception: 10
Wisdom: 10
Intelligence: 10
Charisma: 10
Free Points: 0
Class Skills (1/8):
[Slash (Common)]
General Skills (1/8):
[Inspect (Common)]
Racial Skills:
Vulpine Senses
Special Skills:
[Universal Translation]
Tutorial Points: 0
Tutorial Countdown: 49 days, 23 hours, 49 minutes
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I study the screen floating in front of me, and a few immediate conclusions snap together in my brain like smug puzzle pieces.
My upgraded senses? Obviously Vulpine Senses.
The stamina drop? Running and climbing.
No last name? Good.
My satisfaction is short-lived, because now comes the real challenge: figuring out how to use Inspect.
I try mentally poking it the same way I summoned the status window.
Nothing.
Okay. Maybe I just think the word? Without saying it aloud. Because saying Inspect at people mid-conversation feels like the social equivalent of licking someone’s forehead.
So, I think it.
Inspect.
The system responds immediately.
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Inspect (Common)
Allows the User to obtain basic information about a target. Essential for understanding items, creatures, environments, and System elements.
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My ears perk, tail lifting like I’ve just solved world peace.
“First try” I smugly state to nobody in particular, choosing to completely forget my first attempt. Time to identify literally everything I can in my status.
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Health: 100 / 100
Functions as your primary life resource. As long as Health remains above 0, death is prevented, though physical injuries may still occur.
Regeneration increases with resting depth.
Formula: Vitality × 10
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Stamina: 94 / 100
Prevents fatigue from physical exertion. At 0, you may still move, but exhaustion accumulates rapidly and may result in Health loss.
Regeneration increases with resting depth.
Formula: Dexterity × 10
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Mana: 0 / 0
Resource used for all magical or aspected abilities. Magic cannot be used without Mana.
Mana may be forcibly restored at the cost of Stamina or Health.
Regenerates passively at a fixed rate determined by Wisdom.
Formula: Wisdom × 10
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Race: Foxkin (Level 0 | Tier 0)
A Beast-Kin race specializing in Dexterity and Perception, favoring physical combat over spellcasting. Can evolve upon reaching specific level milestones.
Stat Growth per Level:
→ Dexterity +2
→ Perception +2
→ Free +1
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Class: Warrior [Common] (Level 0 | Tier 0)
A basic combat-oriented Class that emphasizes Strength and Dexterity. Has no Aspect until the first Class advancement.
Stat Growth per Level:
→ Strength +2
→ Dexterity +2
→ Free +1
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Aspects
Aspects represent a Class’s conceptual alignment. Each Class may have only one Aspect.
Basic starting Classes begin without an Aspect and gain one upon first advancement.
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Traits
Special abilities that may be acquired by meeting hidden conditions or possessed from birth. Traits vary widely in form, power, and effect.
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Titles
Extremely rare and powerful modifiers earned through hidden or exceptional achievements.
Titles are displayed publicly when inspected.
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Class Skills
Unlocked at specific Class level milestones. Upon unlocking, the User is presented with a selection of 5 Skills, influenced by Class, actions, Traits, and Titles.
Milestone frequency varies based on tier.
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[Slash (Common)]
A basic Warrior combat skill.
Active: Enhances a single slashing attack, increasing speed and damage at the cost of Stamina.
Scales with Dexterity.
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General Skills
Obtained through deliberate practice and sustained intent toward a conceptual discipline.
Occasionally granted directly by the System.
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Vulpine Senses
The primary racial skill of the Foxkin. Combined with natural hearing and visual acuity, Foxkin are regarded as one of Asteria’s most perceptive races.
(Passive) Increases the effectiveness of the Perception stat.
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A unique skill granted only to newly integrated beings. Allows the User to read, write, and speak the language of any sapient race in Asteria.
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I stare at the last line for a moment, then nod thoughtfully.
Alright. Fantasy world. Magic. Monsters. Game mechanics. Possible death. No mana. Zero. The mana part bothers me more than everything else combined, so obviously I shelf it and pretend it’s not a problem.
Priorities.
I stand, hop off the branch, and land gracefully, only bending my knees slightly to absorb the fall.
“Mm. Nine out of ten,” I mutter. “Could’ve made it stickier.”
I add Improve dramatic landings to my mental to-do list, right above become unstoppable cosmic nightmare.
Time to hunt something small and stab-able.
Luckily, the world provides. After only a few minutes of walking, something rustles in a nearby bush. ...Slowly. Painfully slowly. At a speed that screams middle-aged accountant late to a dentist appointment.
I draw my sword, then immediately remember I should inspect it first.
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[Inferior Sword (Common)]
A basic weapon issued to newly integrated Users. Offers no additional stats or effects. Functionally, little more than a sharpened piece of steel.
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...
Before the annoyance can fully bloom, the rustling grows louder—still unhurried—and a single hairless, slightly rotten-looking foot emerges.
I inspect it.
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Heavily Diseased Rat (Level 1 | Tier 0)
Species: Rat
A slightly oversized rat suffering from an advanced and highly lethal infection. Its condition is terminal; if left unprovoked, it will die naturally within a few days.
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Silence.
“…It looks… kind of sick.”
The rat stares at me. I stare back. Then it wheezes, bares its teeth, and begins charging.
Charging is… a generous word. It approaches at the pace of a dying houseplant.
After tapping my foot for far too long, it finally gets close enough.
My tail stops swishing and my ears lock forward. Apparently that’s the Foxkin version of a serious face.
I strike with all the skill of someone who has never properly used a sword in her life.
I poke it.
Not the head—the flank. Barely.
There’s a pause.
Then the blue box appears.
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You have slain Heavily Diseased Rat (Level 1 | Tier 0).
A slight experience bonus has been awarded for slaying a monster 1 level above you.
You have gained 3 Tutorial Points.
Your race has leveled up to level 1.
Your class has leveled up to level 1.
Skill Selection available.
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...
My tail lashes once. Dangerously.