Elijah Merrows had never been the kind of man who savored Monday mornings. But at least, he told himself, the coffee machine in the seventeenth-floor break room was decent. He sipped a steaming latte while leaning against the windowsill, gazing out at the steel-and-glass skyline.

“You’re in early, Eli.”

He glanced over at Nora Reyes, a programmer from one cubicle row over, who wore a quizzical smirk. She carried a paper bag of breakfast pastries. “Didn’t think I’d see you before nine.”

Elijah shrugged. “Traffic was surprisingly light. Or maybe I just woke up earlier than usual. Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t mention the strange dream that still tugged at the corners of his mind—something about glimmering numbers hanging in empty space, and an eerie voice speaking in monotone. It was probably just the result of too many late-night reading binges of fantasy novels.

Nora offered him the bag. “Bagel?”

“Sure, thanks.” He took one, grateful for the unexpected snack, and they headed to their respective workstations. The open-plan office was gradually filling with the usual hum of keyboards and chatter. Over by the large screens at the project management station, Vince Anders—junior dev and self-styled comedic relief—was already animatedly describing his weekend’s escapades to anyone who would listen.

“Dude, I’m telling you,” Vince said. “We wiped in a raid at 3 a.m. because our healer’s cat walked on his keyboard—”

A small crowd chuckled or rolled their eyes. Vince had a knack for comedic timing, but also, Elijah noticed, a diligent streak behind that humor. He wondered sometimes if Vince was performing the clown routine just so people wouldn’t realize how brilliant he actually was at coding.

Elijah settled at his desk, idly scanning the early emails. Another day of sifting through cost analyses, design specs, and the occasional marketing misfire that needed input. Nothing unusual. Certainly nothing ominous. The only mild distraction was the flicker of that bizarre dream flitting through his thoughts.

“Hey, Elijah.”

He turned to see his department manager, Sandra Lewis, approach with a calm but firm expression. “Morning, Sandra. Everything okay?”

She held up a tablet. “Need your help reviewing the new backend architecture. The devs are about to pivot to microservices, and I want a second opinion. Meeting at ten.”

He nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll finish this email thread first.”

Sandra gave him an appreciative smile. She was a kind boss—demanding in all the right ways, rarely losing her cool. One reason he’d stuck with this job despite more lucrative offers had been Sandra’s straightforward leadership style. No illusions, no empty promises.

The clock on his screen read 9:47 when another voice joined in. “Yo, guys!” It was Gideon Pierce, head of IT security. Tall, broad-shouldered, a former Marine, rumored to have been in some highly classified operations. He had the air of someone who’d seen more than a few corners of the world. “Anyone else’s monitors flickering?”

Nora leaned in from her desk. “Yeah, mine did that for a second. Didn’t think much of it.”

Elijah frowned at his screen. Everything seemed normal, but the faint lines in the corner blinked for just a moment, and he caught sight of something:

System Initialization: 0.0003%…

He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and the words vanished. Maybe he was just seeing spots. Dreams mixing with reality.

“All right,” Sandra called out, tapping her watch. “Whoever’s in the meeting with me—let’s go. The rest, keep an eye on your monitors. I’ll call the building maintenance if it gets worse.”

Elijah took a moment to log out and close up. He never liked leaving programs half-finished. Good practice, good habit. As he stood to follow Sandra, he felt the floor vibrate underfoot. It was gentle enough that most people might miss it—but not Gideon. The former Marine went rigid, scanning the office.

“What was that?” Gideon asked, voice flat.

Nora set down her mug. “Felt like a tremor?”

“Couldn’t be an earthquake,” Vince interjected. “We don’t get those around here.”

But the floor pulsed again, more insistent this time. The overhead lights flickered. Elijah’s blood turned cold as the entire office went dark, leaving only the glow from tall windows. People froze, uncertain murmurs rippling. Then the lights flashed back on, bright enough to sting their eyes.

In that stinging brilliance, something impossible happened. The entire seventeenth floor changed—cubicles, desks, and screens dissolved like illusions. The glass windows melted into swirling motes of dust. Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. He tried to speak, but no words came.

When the brightness receded, he found himself not in an office tower, but in a wide, circular courtyard of polished gray stone. Walls rose on all sides, forming what looked like a grand coliseum. High above, the sky was cracked in swirling patterns of purple and gold, like the aurora on a cosmic scale.

A hush fell over a hundred people standing in that courtyard—colleagues from different floors, security guards, even a handful of visitors who’d likely been in the lobby moments earlier. People looked at one another with shock, confusion, and rising fear.

Sandra was by Elijah’s side, eyes narrowed. Gideon stood a few steps off, fists balled. Vince had stumbled to his knees, mouth half open, gawking at the sky. Nora wobbled unsteadily, pressed a hand to Elijah’s shoulder for balance.

Then a voice, serene and ringing like a bell, echoed through the coliseum:

“Greetings, Initiates. Your world is in the process of integration. Please remain calm while The System finalizes activation.”

All gazes shot up. At the top of the coliseum’s walls was a shimmering silhouette, humanoid but impossible to focus on—each glance slid off its glowing outline.

“What… on Earth is that?” Vince muttered.

Gideon didn’t let the shock paralyze him. “Stay together, people!” he barked, stepping into a more open area. “Form up—no one wander off alone.”

Elijah found himself edging closer to Gideon and Sandra. Their presence, steady and clear-eyed, helped quell the initial panic rising in his chest. Others drifted near as well, including Nora, who wore a determined scowl.

“Tutorial Phase: Initial Combat Assessment.”

With no warning, the air near the far side of the courtyard shimmered. A swirling portal tore open, crackling with arcs of red energy. Through it emerged a half-dozen creatures shaped vaguely like canines, except each stood a head taller than an adult man. Their skin was scaly, cracked with lava-like lines that glowed orange, and their jaws bristled with jagged black teeth.

In a surge of panic, the crowd scattered—some pressed back against the walls, others darted to the center. Elijah’s heart pounded so fiercely he thought it would burst. The monstrous beasts snarled, drool sizzling on the stone floor as it fell.

One of them howled and bounded toward a security guard—Thomas, from the night shift, who was usually posted in the building’s lobby. He raised his baton out of reflex. The beast swiped with a clawed paw, and Thomas was sent skidding across the courtyard.

A chorus of screams followed. Gideon sprinted forward with surprising speed, drawing the standard-issue pistol from his waistband. He must have been armed on the job today, Elijah realized. Gideon fired three times—shots that rang out in the unnatural hush. Bullets struck the lead monster, but only one seemed to leave a mark, lodging in its thick hide.

“Fall back!” Gideon yelled to the rest. “Find something to use as a weapon—stones, anything!”

But the courtyard was nearly barren, and the illusions of their old office provided no helpful metal tools. Fear spiked. Elijah felt a flash of frustration, that hopeless sense of being unarmed in a fight he didn’t understand.

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A second beast lunged. It soared over Gideon’s line of fire and slammed into a group of employees near the wall. Misha, an accountant, managed to roll aside, but the jaws closed on a hapless bystander with horrifying speed. The crowd recoiled as blood splattered across the stone. A wave of nausea hit Elijah.

We can’t beat these things.

Then, as if in direct response to his despair, lines of text glimmered in Elijah’s vision. He blinked, tears welling involuntarily from shock.

System Initialization 25%

Assign Class? [Y/N]

A new wave of roars snapped him out of it. “What the—?!” he stuttered. But there was no time to question. The system prompt was overshadowed by real, mortal danger.

“Move, Merrows!” Gideon shouted, targeting another beast with measured shots. The massive hound snarled as two bullets tore into its side. It stumbled, but that only seemed to enrage it.

I can’t just stand here. Elijah’s mind spun. If there really was some sort of bizarre ‘System’ happening, maybe that prompt meant… power, or at least a chance to defend himself.

He willed the answer: “Yes. Yes, do it!”

The lines of text flowed again:

Class Chosen: [Strider (Basic)]

Skill Gained: [Identify (Inferior)]

Skill Gained: [Enhanced Mobility (Inferior)]

Stat Allocation Unlocked

He nearly stumbled as a jolt of warmth coursed through his limbs. The next instant, a slender spectral bow appeared in his right hand—its form flickering in and out of existence. The sight of it wavered like a hologram, but when he gripped the handle, it was solid. The faint shape of an arrow notched itself.

“What… is this?” he whispered hoarsely.

No time to second-guess. One of the beasts barreled straight at him. Adrenaline roared in his veins, and he tugged the bowstring in a reflex he never realized he had. Light coalesced into an arrow. Letting the string go, the arrow streaked forward, striking the monster’s shoulder. It yelped, staggering, but continued its charge.

Elijah dove aside—smooth, fast. Too fast for what his body should have been capable of. He tumbled across the stone and got back to his feet with only a slight bruise. The creature skidded, tail whipping violently.

“Vince!” he yelled, spotting the programmer cowering behind Gideon. “Try to see if you got a class prompt, do something!”

“Huh?” Vince whimpered, fumbling at the emptiness in front of him.

Elijah snapped his gaze toward Sandra, who was helping Misha pull an injured coworker away from another bloodied region. “Sandra, watch out!”

A third beast sprinted across the courtyard, heading for her. In the background, Gideon’s gunshots thundered again, hitting a target, but there were too many monstrous canines.

Elijah’s free hand curled into a fist. Another glowing arrow formed on the bowstring. He released it. This time, the arrow lodged right in the beast’s flank, flaring bright. The creature let out a guttural snarl, losing momentum.

That gave Sandra a precious second to drag the wounded colleague behind Gideon’s line of fire. Gideon quickly switched aim, drilling two rounds into the beast’s neck. It collapsed at last.

A rattling hiss echoed behind Elijah—a different monster, bleeding from bullet wounds, advanced slowly on him. Its eyes flickered with a primal anger. Elijah’s throat felt dry as a desert.

Identify, he thought, unsure how it worked.

[Lesser Hellhound – Level 3]

Status: Injured

His heart hammered. Level 3. A label that meant as much as Greek to him right now, but it still sounded formidable. The hound lunged. Elijah pivoted, calling upon that fleeting sense of speed in his legs. He hopped back, nocking another spectral arrow.

“Eat this,” he muttered, more out of terror than bravado. The arrow soared, piercing the hound’s eye. In a disgusting lurch, it twitched and fell forward with a final, rasping moan.

A numbness spread in Elijah’s arms. He’d… killed something. A living, breathing creature. The horror of it made him shake, but the thought of letting it kill him or his friends settled heavily in his mind. No time to weigh morality.

By now, the entire courtyard was in chaos. Some employees had discovered similar abilities—Nora stood near Vince, a swirling sphere of wind dancing around her arms as she tried to fend off a smaller hound. Gideon had run out of bullets, but he was wrestling a wounded beast with raw strength, his face flushed with fury.

Elijah turned, scanning for Sandra. He spotted her kneeling behind a chunk of broken stone with two trembling staff members, applying pressure to the wounds of the colleague who’d been mauled.

In total, there had been six beasts. Elijah counted at least four lying still. The last two were prowling, scanning for openings. Their thick tails lashed the air.

One set its glowing eyes on a cluster of terrified newcomers. Elijah recognized them: a couple from accounting, an intern, and one of the part-time receptionists. They held no weapons. None had discovered a new power yet.

Elijah could practically taste the fear saturating the air. He hissed under his breath, notched an arrow of light, and sprinted across the courtyard’s perimeter. The hound locked onto the group and leapt.

“Hey!” Elijah shouted, stepping into its path. The arrow left his bow a split-second before the collision. It sliced across the monster’s flank, but not deep enough to stop its momentum. The beast smashed into him.

He flew backward, skidding on the ground, his ribs screaming in pain. The bow flickered, nearly vanishing from his grip. Gasping for air, he rolled onto his knees, raising the ephemeral weapon again.

The monster spun to face him. Blood dripped from black fangs. There was a savage triumph in its posture—like it wanted him to know there’d be no second miracle.

But the next second, Gideon charged from behind the beast, brandishing what looked like a conjured spear of swirling energy. He plunged it into the hound’s hindleg. It roared, twisting in anguish, and that gave Elijah the precious moment to line up a final arrow.

This time, he aimed at the exposed throat. The arrow of light flew true. The monster gargled, stumbling a few feet before collapsing in a steaming heap. The stench of sulfur burned Elijah’s nostrils.

Panting, Elijah staggered to his feet. He exchanged a silent nod with Gideon, who let his shimmering spear dissipate. The older man looked battered, blood on his shirt that might have been his or someone else’s. But the immediate threat was over.

A hush followed. The survivors stood among the bodies of nightmarish hounds. People sobbed or stared in shock. A few were badly wounded. Others were dead—at least four, from a quick glance. Elijah’s mind threatened to shut down as he registered the sight of motionless coworkers, bright red pooling under them.

Without warning, the shimmering silhouette reappeared at the highest point of the coliseum:

“Congratulations, Initiates. First Combat Assessment Completed.”

“Number of Survivors: 93. Commencing Detailed Integration.”

Elijah felt a deep hum vibrate through the stone. The courtyard rippled, shifting into something else. It was as if the floor dissolved to reveal an enormous swirl of stars beneath them. People scrambled in alarm, but no one fell. The swirl just churned, mesmerizing and terrifying in equal measure.

“Please Prepare to Receive Your System Interfaces.”

Each word hammered a new reality into Elijah’s head. A heavy silence stretched, broken only by whimpers. Then, as though a wave of invisible electricity swept across them, faint geometric symbols etched themselves in the air around every person’s body.

Elijah’s vision swam with new lines of text:

Name: Elijah Merrows

Race: [Human – Level 0]

Class: Strider (Basic)

Health: 50/70

Stamina: 40/50

Mana: 20/20

Strength: 6

Agility: 10

Endurance: 7

Vitality: 7

Intelligence: 6

Perception: 9

Willpower: 8

Free Points: 5

Skills:

* Identify (Inferior)

* Enhanced Mobility (Inferior)

* Strider’s Arrow (Inferior)

It was like his dream had come to life, but far more visceral. He saw a few others staring at the air in front of them, presumably seeing something similar.

Nora clutched at Vince’s arm, panting. “This… is real, right? I’m not hallucinating?”

Vince, drained of color, nodded slowly. “Feels real enough.”

Gideon hobbled over, cradling a nasty gash on his thigh. The flicker of that conjured spear was gone, but the memory of it was fresh in Elijah’s mind.

Sandra approached, face lined with exhaustion and worry. “We need to tend to the wounded,” she said softly. “Those with any healing skills, step forward.”

To their left, a young woman from payroll raised a trembling hand. “I… I got some sort of ‘Recovery Sigil.’ I think I can help.”

Elijah exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in his muscles a dull ache. Deadly monsters, floating stats, a cosmic coliseum… and who knew what else was waiting for them? He recalled the final words from that spectral figure: Detailed Integration.

This is only the beginning.

Although he was battered and shaken, one truth coursed through Elijah’s veins: they had to stand together or risk instant annihilation. Glancing at his co-workers—friends, neighbors, strangers—he realized each had found a spark of something deeper to survive these last few minutes. If they could hold onto that glimmer of unity, maybe… maybe there was a path forward.

But for now, the day that had begun so ordinarily had become something altogether unimaginable. Elijah braced himself, for beyond the violence and the shock, something told him that the System—whatever it truly was—would demand far more from them than a single desperate skirmish.

And with that unspoken fear came the stirring of resolve.