The fire crackled in front of Basil, its warm glow flickering across his face as he leaned back against a fallen log. The night air was crisp, cool enough that the fire’s heat was welcome but not biting. Overhead, the sky stretched out in an endless sea of stars, unpolluted by the city lights he had long grown used to.

He took a slow breath, letting the scent of burning wood and damp earth settle in his lungs. This—this was the first time in years he had truly stopped. No meetings, no bug fixes at three in the morning, no half-hearted conversations with friends while his mind was preoccupied with code. Just him, the fire, and the stillness of the wilderness.

Basil had always been good at things. Never the best, never the prodigy, but always good enough to be around those who were. He had gone to the best engineering school in the world, but while some of his classmates made headlines with revolutionary research, he had just… passed. A black belt in judo, but never won a major competition. A daily runner, but never at a pace that would impress anyone. Even in Teamfight Tactics, a game where strategy was everything, he had climbed high enough to see professionals in his lobbies but never high enough to become one.

He was fine with that—mostly. Basil wasn’t delusional enough to think he had been robbed of greatness. Some people were just built differently. The ones who won had an obsession, a fire that burned so hot it left no room for anything else. He had ambition, but not at the cost of everything else.

And so, he had settled into his life. A well-paying job as a programmer, a girlfriend he genuinely cared about, hobbies he enjoyed. It wasn’t a life of glory, but it was comfortable.

Maybe too comfortable.

That was why he had planned this solo camping trip. A week away from the world, away from endless deadlines and digital noise. Claire had wanted to come—she always enjoyed hiking when she had the time—but her work as a doctor had kept her busy. She had apologized, but he knew she hadn’t felt that bad about it.

“This is the first time you’ve taken a break in years,” she had said, smirking over a morning coffee. “I think you need the alone time more than you realize.”

She had been right.

Basil glanced at the hatchet resting beside him. Earlier that afternoon, he had spent over an hour chopping wood, more than necessary, but the repetitive motion had been oddly satisfying. His muscles ached pleasantly, a reminder that despite spending most of his days behind a screen, his body still worked just fine.

He reached for his thermos, taking a slow sip of warm tea. Then—

A shift.

The world itself seemed to inhale.

The night, once alive with the hum of crickets and the rustling of leaves, turned silent. Utterly, impossibly silent.

The fire flickered. For a fraction of a second, its glow distorted, stretching unnaturally before snapping back into place.

Basil frowned. His body tensed, instincts honed from years of martial arts and running telling him something was wrong.

Then, a pressure built in the air. Subtle at first but rapidly intensifying. His ears popped, his vision blurred at the edges, and for the briefest moment, he felt like he was falling—except he was still seated, still grounded.

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Then, in the silence, a voice rang out.

No, not a voice. A presence.

System Initialization: Commencing World Merge.

Basil barely had time to react before reality itself cracked.

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He awoke on his back, head pounding. His first instinct was to check his body—no injuries, nothing broken. But something was different.

The night sky above him was wrong. The stars had shifted, constellations replaced with unfamiliar patterns. The air felt thicker, charged with an energy he couldn’t describe.

Then, a chime echoed in his mind.

World Merge Complete. Earth has been designated as a dying world. To ensure continued survival, it has been merged with other dying worlds to create a new, sustainable environment. Expect altered geography, foreign entities, and system integration.

Basil stared at the glowing text hovering in his vision. A system? Like something out of a game?

Before he could dwell on it, he felt something else. A surge of exhilaration.

It didn’t make sense. He should have been panicking, searching for his phone, trying to contact someone—anyone. Instead, his heart pounded in his chest, not with fear, but with anticipation.

For the first time in his life, the script had been thrown away. No more pre-written path, no more ceilings he could never break through. The world had changed.

And then he heard it.

A low, guttural growl.

Basil’s breath caught as his gaze snapped toward the treeline. There, just beyond the flickering firelight, something crouched. Small, no taller than his waist, but hunched and muscular. Its skin was mottled green, its eyes gleamed yellow in the dim light, and in its gnarled hand, it gripped a crude stone dagger.

A goblin.

Not a man in costume. Not a creature of fiction. A real goblin.

Panic surged in his chest, but he forced it down. Years of training, both in judo and in keeping a cool head under pressure, kicked in. His mind raced.

It was small, but not weak. The way it moved—low to the ground, weight balanced—told him it was ready to pounce.

His gaze flicked to the side. The hatchet.

The goblin lunged.

Basil moved on instinct, rolling to the side just as the creature’s dagger stabbed into the dirt where he had been a second before. He reached, fingers curling around the wooden handle of the hatchet, and wrenched it free.

The goblin snarled and lunged again.

Basil reacted without thinking. He stepped forward, body turning, letting the momentum carry him as he swung.

The hatchet connected with a sickening thunk.

The goblin let out a gurgled shriek, stumbling back, clutching its shoulder where the blade had sunk deep. Basil didn’t give it a chance to recover. He ripped the weapon free, stepped in, and swung again.

This time, the hatchet buried itself in the creature’s skull.

The goblin went limp.

Basil stood there, chest heaving, staring at the corpse.

Then, a chime echoed in his mind.

First Kill Achieved. Experience Gained.

Basil exhaled sharply. The fire crackled behind him, casting long shadows against the trees. His hands tightened around the hatchet’s handle.

The world had changed.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt alive.