Thomas landed on grass, or rather appeared on it. Taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time that he had a sword clenched in his hand, Thomas surveyed the area around him. In his immediate area was a grassy field, and outside of that was a forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. The ground was covered with people, some of whom had immediately fallen down, and others who looked like they were about to be sick.

Suddenly a blue screen filled his vision, and judging by the reactions of the people around him, he wasn't the only one.

The text read:

Greetings inhabitants of Tutorial 9986. Your planet has been inducted into the System, and all inhabitants have been transferred to separate tutorials. Your tutorial, #9986, is composed of 1,000 humans of Earth who were geographically close to each other at initiation.

You will have 10 days to strengthen yourself against this forest's creatures, after which an undisclosed invasion force will enter this tutorial. The tutorial will end in 31 days. May the strongest prevail.

Well shit, Thomas thought, then glanced around him, realizing that nearly everyone there was around his age. That means the System took most of these people from high school.

Okay. First order of business is to find my friends and stay clear of the teachers. Who knows what they'll do, he thought, then started walking.

"Hey, you," someone shouted, causing Thomas to glance over. What he saw made him groan. It was Mr. Perkins.

Mr. Perkins was tall, balding, and fat, with yellowing teeth and a grin that could make a wolf shudder. The man was known around school as a creep, and he was one of the teachers who you definitely didn't want to have.

As Thomas reluctantly walked towards him, his nose started picking up a scent. It only got stronger as he kept going towards Mr. Perkins, and he realized that it was alcohol.

Oh god, he thought. It looks like he's drunk.

"Give me that sword," Mr. Perkins slurred, then held out his hand.

But Thomas was definitely not going to hand over his only weapon, much less to someone like this, so he summoned his resolve and firmly said, "No."

"I said hand it over," Mr. Perkins shouted, angry at the refusal.

"And I said no," replied Thomas. He knew that he shouldn't be stirring the hornet's nest like this, but he'd be damned if he handed over his sword.

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With a bellow, Mr. Perkins clumsily lifted the battle axe that he had chosen and charged. The charge was clumsy, slow, and weak, and Thomas simply stepped to the side as Perkins rushed past, instinctively sticking out his sword to draw blood at the man's side.

Perkins faceplanted on the grass, then slowly lifted himself up as most of the school watched in fascination and horror. Thomas started to walk away. He had drawn blood, he had clearly won, and he was fully prepared to leave it at that.

They had enough problems as it was. But the enraged Mr. Perkins was too drunk and too stupid to realize that he was outmatched, so with another roar he stumble charged forward, aiming the axe straight at Thomas's back in a mighty swing.

If it had connected, it would have been a fatal blow. But in actuality, the swing was so long and looping that Thomas had time to look over his shoulder, see the swing coming, and once again step to the side.

The ease with which Thomas had avoided both strikes was almost comical, and Mr. Perkins had made a complete fool of himself.

Now, even through the drunken haze, it began to dawn on him that he was seriously outmatched. But it was too late.

Thomas was fed up. He had let him go one time, and as the saying went, "fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me." He had let Mr. Perkins attack him, and let him live when he could have killed him, and yet not a minute later he had attacked him again.

So as Mr. Perkins lay in the grass, Thomas gripped his sword, winced, and stabbed down directly into the neck once. Blood poured out like a river, and within seconds he was still.

The clapping started to Thomas's right, a lone person who had seen some kind of monster felled in a fight between good and evil. The clapping spread like a wave or a virus, growing person by person until the applause was deafening.

Thomas readied his sword, adopting a two hand grip as he looked around, expecting to see teachers racing at him, weapons of all types drawn, but all he could see were kids. It seemed that for some strange reason only one of the teachers was actually in the Tutorial.

Bit by bit the clapping died down, and soon everyone was shocked as the reality set in. They had seen two people fight, and they had seen one die, and yet that hadn't initially shocked any of them.

Thomas himself suddenly felt tired and weary, and walked to the edge of a clearing to sit under a tall oak tree, where he tried to think back to the office. One of the questions he had asked was if their were stats, and the being had told him there were, and that they could be accessed by saying "status."

Quietly, Thomas muttered, "Status," and a screen sprang to life in front of him. Quickly he read through the page, noting everything he saw.

Thomas Whitecliff

Level 1 (F)

Species: (F) Human

Class: N/A (Not unlocked)

Mana 100/100

Stats:

Strength: 7

Endurance: 8

Agility: 9

Dexterity: 10

Intelligence: 8

Wisdom: 6

Perception: 9

Skills: None

If Thomas had to guess, a 5 was probably the baseline, with 10 being the max for a level 1 human. That meant his starting stats were pretty darn good. But if the books were any indication, that wouldn't last forever. He had to find his friends, figure this place out, and survive.