Believe it or not, that curiosity was satisfied not too long after it was first sparked when another blue screen blinked into existence, replacing the previous one. For now, I’ll call these things notifications for lack of a better term. This new notification wasn’t particularly thrilling, sadly, but it did confirm something important: there wasn't anything close to instant teleportation. If it were, I'd already be somewhere else by now.
[Your body is now undergoing core adjustments to attune you to the system. Please wait as these changes and full planetary adjustments may take several minutes.]
I read the message over several times, each pass bringing a growing sense of disappointment. Was there really no tutorial? Surely there must be some mention of it if it did exist. I couldn’t expect everything to be familiar, but it wouldn’t have hurt to learn a bit about my new world. Stretching my arms out in front of me, I locked my fingers together and gave a long, slow yawn. A few faint cracks sounded from my knuckles before I let my arms drop back, relaxing once more.
“Maybe I should clean this up,” I murmured, my gaze falling on the watery blood still smeared across the countertop, slowly dripping down and staining the floor with dark red splotches. I really should reset myself of my old habits and deal with the mess, rather than putting it off like I usually do, even if it wasn’t all that urgent. New world, new me, after all. Yet, my thoughts wandered elsewhere. I began to dwell on the fact that maybe, just maybe, I could finally get my revenge on Greg—without consequences hanging over my head. I imagined him lying lifeless at my feet, a dagger buried deep in his chest, blood pooling around me. A twisted sense of joy stirred within me at the mental image. It was brutal, sure, but nowhere near the kind of bloodshed others might cause in a lawless, purge-like situation. Some people would probably lose their minds and take their own lives.
But my brief determination to stop procrastinating was interrupted as, right before my eyes, the countertop began to dissolve. Literally. It started to fade from the top down, slowly disintegrating until nothing was left but a small pile of dark ash on the floor. And then, just as swiftly, the ash vanished too, disappearing without a trace.
Spinning around so fast that I almost tripped over my own foot, nearly wrenching my neck in the process, I saw something alarming: my entire apartment was completely empty. Everything—every single item I owned—was gone. Only the floor, ceiling, walls, and lights remained. Well, that was before the floor started to disappear too. And the walls. And, eventually, everything else.
Before I could fully grasp what was happening, my tailbone slammed into something hard—rocks. Jagged, uneven rocks that sent a sharp pain shooting up my spine. I winced, rubbing my sore backside, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I'd broken something. At the same time, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed, thinking about how I must’ve looked—some fool who had fallen out of the sky, now sitting on the ground, clutching his aching rear.
Wait—rocks? There hadn’t been any rocks here before, just cracked old pavement. Even if it may have resembled rocks in its sorry state, it wasn’t…this. I decided to investigate, looking around in any direction I could to find why this dramatic change had happened, or if the system just wanted to play a trick on me again for my earlier comment. And it wasn’t difficult to figure out why the ground had so mysteriously changed, after I read the notification trying to grab my attention.
[Planets with life have consumed nearby planets and planetary objects without life within their respective solar systems. Layouts have been meticulously adjusted to accommodate the new configurations. Towering structures have either been leveled to the ground or completely obliterated. Attunement processes of enlightened races are nearing their final stages. Illicit knowledge obtained from external sources prior to integration will be swiftly and efficiently purged. Enlightened races have been scattered at random throughout their improved planets.]
Instead of the not so vast or bustling cityscape I had fully expected to find sprawled out ahead of me, I was met with an entirely different sight—a boundless landscape stretching out in front of me, flat plains covered in lush, vibrant grass the color of deep forest green extending as far as the eye could see. And I truly mean that, as I quickly realized I was no longer standing in the dilapidated slums where I had once been. Now, I sat on the jagged, rocky edge of an impossibly high cliff, which dropped off sharply just a few feet ahead of where I rested.
From this dizzying height, I held a breathtaking bird’s-eye view, yet even from this vantage point, I couldn’t see past the seemingly endless field that lay before me. The distant horizon stretched out like an impenetrable barrier, stubbornly keeping its secrets hidden from my view and frustrating any hope of scouting further. The sun—thankfully the same one I remembered, though I wasn’t entirely sure why I had worried it might change—shone brightly above, its warm rays lovingly bathing the landscape below in a golden light. Despite the fact that it should still be nighttime. The entire area sparkled like a jewel, illuminated by the sun’s radiance, and the morning dew shimmered with tiny rainbows spanning every color, from vivid reds to soft violets, refracted in the air. It was a sight so awe-inspiring that I could hardly believe my eyes; my jaw had dropped lower than the deepest ocean trench.
But part of the reason my mouth hung agape was to inhale more of that cool, pristine air. The freshness of it filled my lungs in a way that felt almost too pure, refreshing me more than oxygen had any right to. The scent that accompanied it was even more intoxicating. It was an aroma reminiscent of rain-soaked earth, a smell I recalled was called petrichor. Sweet, soothing, and impossibly relaxing, it was a fragrance I had loved ever since my childhood when I would run outside during thunderstorms, carefree and unconcerned about getting wet. I’d let the raindrops drench me, sticking my tongue out to taste them as they fell, performing silly little dances in the downpour just to amuse myself. The cold rain would always re-energize me, giving me a burst of life I could never find elsewhere. Not that I had any friends to share those moments with, even back then, but I had plenty of imaginary ones who kept me company.
Back in the present, I couldn’t resist laying back on some soft grass behind the front of the rocky outcropping, allowing my body to sink into its comforting embrace while I stared up at the clear, endless blue sky above. Not a single cloud marred its perfection. A gentle breeze caressed my face, playful as it ruffled my hair and sent my clothes billowing in random directions. I didn’t mind that the cooler temperatures of the high altitude stung my skin slightly—it only added to the sense of bliss that enveloped me. Everything felt so serene, so perfect. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with my current situation.
And then, there was.
Suddenly, my peace was shattered by ear-splitting, blood-curdling screams that pierced the air from somewhere behind me. The shrill, high-pitched cries were so jarring that they left my ears ringing. Turning my gaze in the direction of the noise, I saw what appeared to be a dense, tangled rainforest. The towering trees, with trunks thicker than anything I had ever seen, reached up toward the sky, their canopies almost blotting out the sunlight. Redwood giants stretched up as high as the eye could follow, and greasy, camo-green vines—each as thick as my biceps—wove through the underbrush like snakes, completely blocking any possible entrance. The thick foliage, along with the oppressive greenery, had gone unnoticed by me earlier because it felt like it didn't belong, detracting from the beauty of the plains. Now, however, it demanded my full attention.
Despite the overwhelming size of the rainforest, the strangest thing was that the only sound I could hear was the screaming—no birds, no insects, nothing that should normally fill the air with life. The entire forest was unnervingly quiet. It felt like when I had received that first notification–just a few minutes ago, I guess. I still could hear my breathing though. The damp surfaces of the leaves and vines glistened in the light, between soaked and slick, making the idea of climbing over them seem a fool’s errand. It also seemed impossible to crawl in between the vines, as they were tightly entangled in something like a loving embrace.
I stood up from where I had been lying, torn between the urge to assist whoever was in trouble and the daunting realization that I had no clear way of leaving my current position without either jumping off the cliff or somehow making my way through the dense jungle. The next notification that appeared before my eyes, however, removed any doubt from my mind about what I needed to do.
[Enlightened races should be nearly attuned. Path searches will commence in approximately thirty-four minutes (planet “Earth” standard time measurement.) Enlightened ones must make their way to a standard teleportation point. Teleportation points are placed at randomized equal intervals.]
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Clapping my hands once in front of my eyes, like the clapperboard for the movie that had now become my drastically more intriguing life, I moved toward the thick foliage ahead, determined to find any weak points. My fingers glided over the slick, glossy surface of the vines, their slimy texture sending shivers down my spine as I searched for a vulnerable spot. I focused on areas that seemed darker or thinner than the rest of their tangled, writhing bodies, roughly yanking at these weaker sections in hopes of breaking through. Each tug was more desperate than the last, my urgency to penetrate the jungle growing by the second. That urgency only intensified as the next notifications flashed before my eyes, one of which was finally different from the usual blocks of text.
[Tutorial teleportation points have been determined. Those who fail to reach one in time are deemed unworthy and will be brutally killed for the entertainment of divine beings. Time remaining before temporary planetary shutdown–for enhancement of difficulty–is 30 minutes.]
The other notification was an image, almost like a video feed from Google Earth. A large, spinning planet was displayed, nearly unrecognizable from the Earth I had once known. It was absurdly massive, sparsely detailed, with vague patches of green and blue indicating land and water. The globe rotated smoothly, like a basketball spinning effortlessly on an NBA player’s fingertip, and the rapid movement made it dizzying to look at. Continents and islands were scattered strangely across the surface in a pattern that seemed oddly artificial, as though they had been placed there deliberately. Most of the planet was covered in landmass, with maybe only 40% occupied by oceans or other bodies of water.
But what really caught my attention were the countless blinking red lights scattered all across the map. They dotted the land and even the oceans, each one pulsing rhythmically, a glaring contrast to the otherwise bland geography. These blinking lights, I realized, were the teleportation points mentioned earlier. What’s more, I felt in my heart that this unfamiliar planet was the new Earth—a twisted, altered version of my home. Absently, I wiped my wet hands on my denim jeans, surprised to feel the coarse fabric clinging to my legs. In all the chaos, I had forgotten I was wearing them.
I stared at the map, trying to make sense of where I was and how I could get to one of these points within the next half hour, with nothing but my own two feet for transportation. My mind raced, frantically trying to figure out a plan. Then, it hit me—a lightbulb moment (metaphorically speaking, of course, though at this point a literal lightbulb randomly popping into existence wouldn’t have shocked me). I realized I had been overthinking things. With one hand, I reached up and cautiously touched the map. Instead of my hand phasing through it, or disrupting the image as I half-expected, the map froze in place, as if I had pressed pause on a video. The globe stopped spinning, and the image held steady.
Intrigued, I pulled my hand back, watching as the planet resumed its dizzying rotation. Eager to experiment, I tried a few more gestures, pinching my fingers together to zoom in and pulling them apart to zoom out, just like with a touchscreen. The map responded smoothly to my commands. After playing around a bit, I resolved to find my own location. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as difficult as I had anticipated. As I zoomed in further, the image seemed to force itself toward a specific spot, almost as if it knew where I was. I allowed it to guide me, and soon enough, the notification zoomed in on a blinking yellow dot. My location, perhaps?
Excitement surged through me as I scanned for the closest teleportation point. My enthusiasm waned when I discovered it was extremely deep within the dense jungle I had been struggling to break into. The map on the notification had become more detailed the more I had zoomed in. Lucky me, right? Not quite. While there were more than enough teleportation points scattered across the globe to accommodate the entire population, many of them were placed in highly inconvenient locations, like mine. Worse still, there might be limits on how many people could use the same point. The idea of a rush of people scrambling to reach these points crossed my mind, and I realized that the distinction between the "worthy" and the "unworthy" might simply come down to who could physically make it there.
As if to confirm some of my suspicions, another notification popped up. This one didn’t replace the others but instead layered on top, crowding my vision with even more unsettling information.
[Current capacity of closest teleportation point: 17/100]
“Shit… Just 100 people?” I muttered under my breath, frustration bubbling up inside me. With my initial guess, I had assumed at least a thousand people would be allowed into a given teleportation point. If there were only 100 slots, that meant Earth's population might start dwindling soon—assuming all of this wasn’t just some wild, convoluted dream. But no, I didn’t think I was dreaming. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.
A surge of adrenaline shot through me, pushing away the doubt clouding my mind. Fueled by this newfound strength, I grabbed hold of a vine that blocked my path and tore it in half with brute force. The severed tendrils writhed and squirmed, almost as if they were in agony. The green, snake-like vines seemed to recognize me as their enemy, and suddenly they lashed out, launching themselves toward me with the speed and precision of bullets fired from a high-end handgun.
Great. So, now the plants were sentient—and deadly. Wonderful.
With no time to think, I threw myself to the ground, diving under the incoming vines. I barely made it past them, my back scraping the earth as I squeezed through the narrow gap into the forest. When I scrambled back to my feet, I realized how close I had come to being skewered—the back of my shirt had been torn to shreds, and I could feel the sharp sting of blood trickling from my lower back. But the pain was a distant thought, easily ignored in the heat of the moment. I ripped the remnants of my shirt off and tossed it aside. It was polyester, gray, and had some faded band logo on it—something my parents had bought for me years ago. Now it lay abandoned in the cold dirt, a relic of the life I had left behind. My beer belly, in all its glory, was now exposed to the world.
Speaking of dirt, there was a whole lot of it in the forest. The vibrant green grass I had seen at the forest's edge had all but disappeared, leaving behind only bare, packed dirt. Towering monstrosities that could hardly be called trees loomed over me. The ones I had seen before were an ashen, blackish-gray, but these had a sickly green tint to their bark, which blended into the dense, unnatural shadows cast by the forest's canopy. The multicolored leaves that adorned the treetops were a kaleidoscope of autumn hues—brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows—but they didn’t add any warmth to the cold, eerie atmosphere below.
There was no clear path through this overgrown wilderness, much to my disappointment. It was a chaotic mess of trees, rocks, and branches. Massive, unmovable boulders blocked several routes, creating natural barriers that forced me to move northwest, navigating around these stony walls. The forest felt ancient, untouched by human hands, despite the fact that they likely had just appeared at the will of the system. There were no animals, no sounds of life—just silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of leaves underfoot or the creaking of trees in the wind. The ground was littered with twisted roots and fallen branches, but none of it truly hindered my movement. So, I ran.
I dashed forward with all the speed I could muster, my heart pounding in my chest as adrenaline surged through my veins. But I soon stopped.
I hissed through clenched teeth that it probably wasn’t best for anyone else to hear.
Pain shot up through my feet with every step. I had forgotten the most important part—I wasn’t wearing any shoes. Each step onto a hidden rock or sharp debris sent waves of agony through my soles, barely protected by the thin, institutional white linen socks I still had on. Every sharp edge dug into my flesh, and the forest floor was relentless. My feet screamed in protest with every movement, making the simple act of running feel like torture.
Yet, I remained steadfast in my pursuit of survival. As long as that life was different from the one I had endured before. So, I pressed on. My soles, scraped raw, felt the sting of countless rocks and sharp debris slicing into them, a faint trickle of warmth pooling beneath my feet. Blood, no doubt. But I pushed through, determined to ignore the pain. I had faced worse in the last hour than I could recall facing since those beatdowns from Greg and his pack of goons—memories from the brutal end of my high school years.
[Current capacity: 73/100]
[Time remaining: 9 minutes]
The number of people who had reached the teleportation point had jumped up drastically. Anxiety clawed at me, as how could I not be worried? But I had to believe I was close. I had to feel that way or I’d crumble under the pressure. My time was running out, and with every passing second, my body protested louder. My feet screamed, every step becoming more agonizing, my heart pounded wildly in my chest, and a sharp, stabbing pain lodged itself in my side. I clutched at my ribs, gasping for air, struggling to keep moving forward.
The terrain hadn’t shifted at all, at least not in any noticeable way. I felt an eerie sense of déjà vu, as if everything around me was repeating itself, like I was running in circles. It made no sense. I was moving forward—wasn’t I? But the surroundings were unnervingly familiar, as if each patch of dirt, each gnarled root, each towering tree was the same as the last. And then, it hit me.
I was caught in a trap. The landscape was repeating. Why had I foolishly assumed magic didn’t exist just because I hadn’t accessed any yet? Magic, unlike the simple imitations and tricks humans were capable of previously, was a power system giving most everything the ability to do almost anything by harnessing the power of mana, a natural element that existed everywhere and functioned similarly to atoms or cells as in it made up everything but also could be harnessed to have a physical effect on the world. Exhausted and mentally drained from running, I realized I was now the perfect prey for the deadly vines that had seamlessly blended into the trees. That green tint should have been a signal for me but I’d just thought of it as an unimportant detail. In an instant, they struck, exploding out of the foliage with sonic booms echoing through the air. The vines shot toward me from every conceivable direction, impaling my body like blunt spears.
The pain was instant and overwhelming, a sharp, white-hot agony that left me breathless. My body crumpled under the assault, and for a brief moment, I thought I was done for. But despite the violent impact, the vines didn’t pierce deep enough to hit any vital organs. They delivered blunt force trauma rather than fatal punctures. The next thing I knew, repeating the history of my life, darkness closed in on me, and I passed out.