Chapter 2 – Awakening
Three types of paths are commonly seen. First, a Dungeon is often caused by an accumulation of mana, which results in monsters spawning. Second are Planes, formed when a dungeon develops and a certain threshold of monsters is reached. Variations from plane to plane depend on the relative strength of the monsters. Lastly, a Domain develops when a monster in a plane forms a domain core, causing the plane to expand and become a world. There is speculation about a final phase, referred to as a Dimension, but this has yet to be seen and exists only in theory.
The World of Monsters by Dr. Jenney King.
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Mort listened, extending his senses to their limit, trying to perceive any movement or sign of life around him. But all was still. Only the noise of traffic outside the window brought back memories of a distant life long forgotten.
Carefully, Mort rose to his feet and took in his old room. It was small, with a single bed along one wall and a desk with his laptop on the other side. The laptop was still open from his work the night before. Cups of half-drunk coffee and empty cans of Pepsi Max were scattered haphazardly around the computer, and books lined the shelves. It was just a typical student’s room—his room.
The world seemed to hold its breath as Mort absorbed everything that once defined his life. For a fleeting moment, he felt like that young student who had dreamed of becoming a famous hunter. But he wasn’t that kid anymore. The reality of it finally hit him. He had returned to before he was a hunter, before the fall, before everyone was... His last thought was cut off by a sudden, overwhelming thump in his chest.
Mort fell to his knees as the weight of two decades pressed down on him. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps as memories surged—each one sharper than the last. The quiet comfort of his room now felt foreign, a cruel reminder of everything he’d lost. The fear that gripped him during endless battles, the pain of friends fallen in his stead, the helplessness of watching the world burn—all of it crashed over him like a tidal wave. He clutched at the carpet, his nails digging into the fibers as if anchoring himself to the present.
He wept under its pressure, screaming silently into the morning. Flashes of monsters, his friends hanging from a tree, and a cruel smile looking down on him filled his mind. Voices mocked him, pulling at the edges of his sanity as he lived again through the pain of surviving when others could not.
Minutes or hours passed—it didn’t matter. Who could judge a moment of weakness? Mort lay there until the tears dried and his heart stopped aching, leaving him empty and drained. Void of feeling, he gathered his scattered mind, rose from the dirty floor, grabbed his towel, and went to the shower.
“This will probably be the first shower in a long time,” Mort thought, trying to live in the moment and escape the world he used to know. But it would return, and he had to be ready.
After what Mort would consider the best shower of his life, he felt more relaxed and prepared to take his first steps back into the world he once knew. He spent time reintroducing himself to this era, scrolling through the news and searching for signs of a domain forming. But there was nothing. It hadn’t happened yet. It was July 2100—twenty years before his death. Or was it his rebirth? Maybe his return? He wasn’t sure what to call it, but he knew he had no choice but to face it head-on. He had to change the future, starting with the Awakening Ceremony.
As Mort opened the oddly heavy bedroom door, he saw Tom sitting at the kitchen table, eating toast with honey.
“Hey, mate... you look like shit. You okay?” Tom asked, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward, a slice of toast forgotten in his hand.
“You’ll be fine. I told you, you’ll get something cool-sounding, like primal-something,” he added with a forced laugh.
“I’m fine, just nervous, you know,” Mort said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. A shadow crossed his face, a fleeting reminder of what would come. He knew what he would awaken to—and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Last time, he had a limit of 20, meaning no class, no skills, no power. He was the permanent newbie. But not this time, he thought, steeling his resolve.
“You’ll be fine, but we need to bounce soon if we don’t want to run laps again,” Tom said, rubbing his legs as if shaking off memories of punishment.
“I’m ready when you are. It’s good to see you again—it feels like forever,” Mort said, longing to share his story. Flashes of his friend’s slack face blurred his vision, and he had to look away.
“You sure you didn’t drink too much last night? You sound weird,” Tom said, narrowing his eyes.
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“Honestly, I’m fine,” Mort replied, forcing a grin. “We should grab a drink tonight, though. Celebrate before things... change.” His voice faltered, but he quickly masked it with a shrug.
“Yeah, man, can do. Anyway, let’s bounce,” Tom said, tossing the last bit of toast into his mouth. He shouted, “Pep, we’re off! If you want a lift, get your ass in gear!” No response came. Turning to Mort, he said, “She’s probably already left. Let’s go.”
They walked out of their flat and into the world beyond, heading for campus. The walk was short—only 20 minutes—one of the reasons they’d moved there after last year’s 30-minute commute.
“So, what do you think the Awakening Ceremony is? Everyone acts like it’s a big secret. Nobody tells me anything,” Tom said, twisting to look at Mort.
“People say it depends on the person, which is why they don’t talk about it,” Mort replied. “Some fight, some take a written test, and one guy had to write a poem for an old dragon.” He paused. “Nobody really understands why it’s different for everyone. They just accept it as part of the system’s... process.”
“Well, I reckon a harder trial means more power,” Tom said, puzzled. “Like, how could writing get you a combat class?”
“Maybe. We’ll find out soon enough. But if you get a writing test, don’t write ‘I am a fish’ repeatedly,” Mort said with a laugh.
They laughed as the campus came into view. The cluster of buildings loomed ahead, and they joined the stream of students heading toward the large dome—the site of the Awakening.
“What number are you?” Tom asked.
“156. How about you?” Mort replied.
“Shit, I’m 70. Looks like I’ll be going first. I’ll speak to you later,” Tom said as he left to find his seat near the front. Mort followed suit, taking his place at the end of the row. The auditorium filled quickly; no one wanted to miss this. After graduation, everyone had the chance to awaken their system and claim power for themselves.
Nerves set in as memories of his first awakening filled Mort’s head. Last time, he’d been labelled a failure, stuck at the top of the glass, forced to go last. Lost in thoughts of what had been, Mort barely noticed when a man in a well-tailored suit and a neatly trimmed beard stepped onto the stage. The murmurs of conversation faded to silence.
The man, who appeared to be in his late 40s, surveyed the students before speaking.
“As you all know, I am Professor Deen. I’m proud to see you all here today as you step into a new world and transcend the limits that have constrained mankind for too long. Today, you will awaken the power we were born to wield.” His eyes swept across the crowd with a mix of authority and encouragement.
“Some of you may be wondering what this process involves. Simply put, you will step into the path through this gate and perform the challenge the system presents. This could be something simple, like a writing test, or difficult, like live combat.” Deen paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the room. “This is not compulsory. You are free to leave now. But for those who stay, a new life awaits.”
He continued to explain the process. Each student would receive a backpack containing supplies: pens, paper, a first aid kit, a shield, a sword, and a healing potion. Once equipped, they would step through the gate and return through the same door after completing their trial. Students would enter in 5-minute intervals to allow the creation of a new path for each.
“Upon exiting the path, you will touch the identification stone to verify your status and determine your limit. Don’t be disheartened by your result; returning from the path is an achievement in itself, and you should be proud,” Deen said, his voice kind but firm.
Mort knew those words were meant to reassure, but he also knew the harsh truth. A low limit made a hunter useless for anything beyond mob cleanup. He remembered Deen’s expression after his last identification—the look of loss and horror as the words appeared:
Level 1 (Limit 20)
Some people would ask why Mort was doing this again. The answer was simple: he needed power and access to the system to figure out what was happening. So here he was, facing the worst day of his life once more. At least this time, he knew what his challenge would be. Last time, he’d taken a bizarre written exam explaining the difference between flour and flower. Even twenty years later, nobody understood why the awakening took such strange forms. It was just accepted as part of the process.
“Now is the time. Seats 1 to 10, make your way to the stage to prepare,” Deen announced with authority.
Movement and chatter rippled through the room like a wave. Row by row, students rose to prepare for their trials. When the last row was called, Mort walked to the stage, picked up his pack, and selected a sword with a slight curve—resembling a katana. He left the shield behind. There wouldn’t be much fighting, and it would only get in his way.
Mort waited in line, his eyes fixed on the door—the same door he hadn’t seen in twenty years. The anxiety was just as sharp. No one spoke; everyone focused on their upcoming challenge. Mort clenched his fists. He was ready to face this again. He was ready to make a difference.
The student ahead of him stepped through the door. The 5-minute timer reset. Professor Deen glanced at Mort, offering a smile and a thumbs-up before walking to the back of the room.
Mort’s eyes stayed on the countdown clock, unaware that Deen had left. The red digits ticked away.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3...
Mort let out a long exhale.
2, 1.
When the timer hit zero, the gate monitor nodded to Mort and gave him the thumbs-up.
He took a step forward. Just as he was about to pass through the gate, a blue screen flared to life in front of his face.
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Error
Unknown entity identified... Attempting extermination
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“Oh shit,” Mort whispered.
He stepped through the door, feeling a sudden force pull him onto the path as his trial began.