I woke up.

“Where am I?” I mumbled, my voice raspy. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze from my vision. Everything looked blurry, the edges of reality still out of focus. Slowly, my eyes adjusted, and I could make out the details of the room around me.

The air was cold, sterile, and it smelled faintly of metal. I tried to sit up, but the surface beneath me felt too smooth, too hard. I rubbed my eyes, hoping I’d wake up from whatever this was. But when I opened them again, nothing had changed.

I was inside some kind of cube. The walls were made of steel, gray and cold to the touch, and the ceiling was just as metallic, giving off a dull, industrial gleam. Everything felt… wrong. Nothing was familiar.

“Where is… this?” I whispered, my voice shaky.

I forced myself to stand, my legs feeling unsteady. My mind raced back through the events. I had been at the store, working like usual. Then, Mr. Smith. The man in the black suit. He had spoken about recruitment, about a government agency. I had dismissed it, thinking it was some kind of joke or a mistake.

But now, this—this place—wasn't a joke. This was real. Too real.

A giant LED screen flickered to life on one of the walls, its light harsh in the dim space. It was blank for a moment, and then words appeared, scrawled across the screen in bold, clinical font:

"Welcome, Mr. More."

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell was going on?

The sound system buzzed to life, a sharp, electronic hum that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I flinched, but my eyes stayed locked on the LED screen as the text flickered, warping into a strange pattern of ones and zeroes. The digital code danced for a moment before it slowly solidified into something… more.

A face appeared.

It wasn’t just a static image, though. The face seemed to shift, its features flickering in and out as if struggling to stay in focus. The expression was neutral, cold—like the face of someone who didn’t care about me, or my situation. The lips moved, and a smooth but unsettling voice filled the space around me.

“This is a pre-recorded message,” it said, its tone flat and methodical. “To surmise what happened: you’ve encountered a cryptid, awoken your connection to the [System], and now that you have become an [Esper], you have a responsibility to the world.”

I froze. Esper? Cryptid? What the hell was this thing talking about? My mind raced to catch up, but it felt like I was hearing words from a different language. Cryptid? I barely understood what was going on with me, let alone some cryptid, and now I was an “Esper”? Was that even a real thing?

The face on the screen didn’t wait for me to digest the information. It continued speaking, its voice detached, almost robotic.

“You are no longer the person you once were,” it continued, the words hanging in the air like a heavy weight. “You are now linked to the System. Your abilities are your own, but they are part of something much larger. You must use them for the greater good, whether you are ready or not.”

I swallowed hard, my mind struggling to process the flood of information. I had no idea what any of this meant, but the implications were terrifying. I wanted to ask questions, demand answers, but the face on the screen just stared back, waiting for me to come to terms with whatever was happening.

And here I thought I knew about the world.

To think the ‘conspiracies’ had been right all along. I’d spent so much time listening to my uncle’s ramblings and reading bizarre articles on the internet that I thought I’d seen it all. But none of that could have prepared me for this. A cryptid? An Esper? This whole "System" thing? My brain struggled to catch up with the implications.

The voice continued, “Let’s start with a tutorial.”

I blinked, and suddenly, a screen materialized in front of me. It was like it appeared from nowhere, as if it was always there, waiting. The interface felt so real, so… personal, like it belonged to me. Yet it was suddenly summoned like that out of nowhere… I only realized this now how intimate the system was.

Name: Greg A. More

Class: Conjurer

Gift: Moe Touch

Level: 1

Stats—

Willpower: 7

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Mentality: 4

Freedom: 5

Skills: N/A

I stared at the words, trying to make sense of what I was seeing for the second time. I could feel my pulse quicken. This was real. It wasn’t some strange dream or hallucination. The "System" interface was here, and it was just as bizarre as it sounded.

The voice spoke again, explaining in its usual, monotonous tone: “Your name is self-explanatory. It is your given name, the one you are born with. Even if you legally change your name, the name reflected on the system would never change.”

I blinked.

The voice didn’t pause. “Your class, ‘Conjurer,’ reflects your ability to manipulate and summon. Your Gift, ‘Moe Touch,’ enables you to transform objects into female humanoid entities. Your abilities will evolve as you level up and gain more experience.”

The words blurred for a second, and I had to sit down on the cold steel floor. This wasn’t just some random glitch. I wasn’t just imagining things. I had powers. Weird ones, sure, but powers.

I glanced back at the screen.

The voice continued, its tone calm and clinical, like it had recited this a thousand times before. “You are currently level 1. By killing cryptids, fellow Espers, or understanding your gift, you’d be able to level up. Every level-up will net you ten stat points and allow you to awaken a new skill. Skills are derived powers from your gift. Be forewarned, the System might not have sentience, but your Gift does... and if it decides it didn’t want you anymore, you might die.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Die? The weight of that word settled heavily in my chest. I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down my spine as I processed the gravity of what was being said. This wasn’t just some power I could turn off. I was in this, for better or worse.

“As for your stats,” the voice continued, "Willpower represents how much power you can exert physically or mentally. Mentality represents how robust and sharp your mind is. Freedom represents how much your movement, speed, or sense of freedom is. Be forewarned. Once a stat has been invested, there is no taking it back. Be forewarned. Depending on which stats you increased, your Gift would evolve in a unique direction. Not to mention it will also influence the skills you can learn.”

I leaned back against the cold steel wall, thinking through the implications of the voice’s words. There was so much I didn’t understand, but I also knew I didn’t have the luxury of figuring it all out. I had no idea what kind of cryptids or other Espers I might encounter, but the fact that I could die... it felt like I was standing at the edge of something much bigger than myself.

I wasn’t sure what kind of person I was going to become in this new world. I didn’t even know what the hell I was now. But for the moment, I had no choice but to listen.

The voice spoke again, breaking me out of my thoughts. “There are a total of six Esper archetypes: Believer, Deceiver, Conjurer, Traveler, Sorcerer, and Researcher. In order to use your gift, you first need practice. Be prepared. In ten seconds, this box will disappear… and you will be exposed to the training area.”

The countdown was short—too short—but the words hit me hard, and I found myself holding my breath. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but something told me I wasn’t going to like it. The air felt thick with tension as the seconds ticked by, the cold steel walls of the cube pressing in on me.

Nine. Eight. Seven.

I tried to calm myself. I could do this. Maybe I didn’t have a clue what was coming, but I had no other choice but to follow the rules.

Three. Two. One.

The screen flickered. The box in front of me blinked out of existence, and in an instant, the space around me shifted. The steel walls, the sterile cold, everything melted away like it had never been there in the first place. I was standing in a vast, empty room, the air thick with anticipation.

Here goes nothing.

I blinked, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Everywhere I looked, there was nothing but blinding white, stretching on and on without end. People stood around me. Their expressions were a mixture of confusion and fear. Some looked younger, others older. They were all dressed in simple, white clothes, similar to the ones I was wearing—like prison uniforms, or something you'd wear if you were forced to blend in with everyone else. Great. Just great. Another weird, controlled environment.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out before a booming voice filled the air, commanding and loud.

"TRAINEES, PREPARE YOUR HEARTS!"

The white space around me twisted and shifted violently, as if the entire reality itself was being folded in on itself. The ground beneath my feet rumbled, and then, in a flash, the white void evaporated. It was replaced by a vast, sprawling forest, so large I couldn’t see the end of it. Trees towered over me, their dense foliage creating deep shadows in the bright, surreal light.

"WELCOME TO SURVIVAL ISLAND!" The same voice from before echoed through the trees, vibrating in my chest.

“LAST 20% STANDING PASSES!”

My breath caught in my throat. The words hit me like a punch, and I could feel the weight of their meaning settling over me. Survival Island? Last 20% standing? My heart pounded in my chest. This wasn’t just a training exercise; this was something much worse.

And then it happened.

Out of nowhere, there was a deafening roar that shook the ground beneath me. The air grew thick with a stench—sweat, dirt, and something much worse, like death itself. Before I could even react, the trees near us shook violently. I spun around, heart racing, and in the blink of an eye, a massive, hulking form appeared from the dense foliage.

A T-rex.

The creature’s mouth was a cavern of death, and its eyes locked onto a man standing just a few feet away from me. He was an old man, his face pale and wrinkled with age, his eyes wide with terror. He didn’t stand a chance. Before any of us could even process what was happening, the T-rex’s jaws snapped shut with a sickening crunch, and the man was gone—devoured in an instant. The air was filled with the sound of crunching bones, the sheer power of the dinosaur’s jaws splintering his body with a horrifying finality.

I froze, my body locking up in terror. The scene was too surreal, too fast. The old man hadn’t even had a chance to scream.

I could barely breathe, my entire body shaking as the T-rex’s massive form loomed over the spot where the man had been, blood dripping from its jaws.

Holy hell. This was real.