Chapter 1: The Awakening
Darkness.
It was all he could see. All he could feel.
There was no sense of time here, no feeling of pain or peace—just an endless void that stretched on and on. Yet, amid this space, something stirred. A faint glimmer, a flicker of light in the distance. He reached for it, though he had no hands, no physical body. Just a will, an instinct that told him he needed to move toward the light.
Slowly, painfully, he drifted closer. And as the light grew brighter, something clicked into place.
A voice—not quite a voice but more a presence—filled the void.
*System initialization complete... Status reset...*
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, though he couldn’t quite grasp their significance. The void began to shift, taking shape around him. Fragmented memories flashed before him—glimpses of battles fought, blood spilled, faces he should have known but couldn’t place. Each image slipped away as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind only confusion.
*Status screen updated... Class: None... Name: Unknown...*
*Physical and mental attributes reset to default levels.*
Then, as if on cue, a bright screen appeared before his mind's eye, filled with strange symbols and numbers. It was as though a curtain had been lifted, revealing a part of him he hadn't known was there. His thoughts grasped for understanding, and slowly, the words and numbers began to make sense.
[STATUS SCREEN]
Name: Unknown
Class: None
Level: None
Attributes:
Strength: 10
Dexterity: 10
Agility: 10
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Willpower: 10
Luck: 10
Skills:
None
His entire being felt stripped bare, reduced to these simple metrics. The sight of his stats—each one reset to 10—left him with a gnawing sense of loss. He *knew* he had been stronger once. More skilled. His body had been capable of incredible feats, and now...
Now, he was nothing.
Skills are earned through training and mastery in various disciplines. Unlock your potential through practice. Your progress will be rewarded...
The message resonated in the emptiness, and with it came a new understanding. He had lost everything, but he could regain it—perhaps even surpass his former self—through sheer determination and effort.
As the final words of the system faded away, the light grew brighter, blinding him. The void trembled, and with a jolt, he felt himself pulled back into the world of the living.
---
The first thing he noticed was the pain.
It surged through his body, sharp and unrelenting. His chest felt as if it had been split open, his limbs heavy and weak. Every breath was a struggle, each one reminding him that he was, against all odds, alive.
What happened to me? Who did this?
Anger, fear, and pain cycled through his mind as he lay there. The missing information in his mind gnawing at him like some hungry beast on a bone. His eyes fluttered open, though the blinding light of the sun forced them shut again. He could hear voices nearby—muffled, distant. Slowly, painfully, he managed to open his eyes once more, squinting against the harsh light filtering through the window.
The room was simple. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, and the faint scent of herbs and earth filled the air. He was lying on a small bed, his body covered in bandages, some stained with dried blood. The covers that were draped across his body were worn but well-maintained. It kept him warm as a chill filled the air.
His chest was bound tightly, the bandages layered over a wound that felt like it had been cut deep. Each time he breathed, the pressure around his ribs reminded him of the gash that had nearly torn him apart and rib bones that grind against each other as they somehow were slowly mending. His arms and legs were marked with bruises, some of which had started to scab over. The skin was an angry red where the wounds had been stitched or dressed. His body was suffering from a litany of injuries and he continued to wonder how he managed to survive.
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His hands were scraped and raw, evidence of the struggle he must have endured before collapsing. The right side of his face had a large bruise that extended from his temple to his jaw and a deep cut above right his eye that had been crudely bandaged. The bandage covering his right eye impeded his vision so he couldn't tell how bad the eye was since it was just one of the many places that was screaming at him in agony. It was clear from the way the bandages were wrapped that he had suffered more than a simple injury—his entire body was a canvas of pain.
He tried to move, but the effort sent a fresh wave of suffering crashing through him. His hands instinctively gripped the sheets beneath him, his mind racing as he fought to make sense of his surroundings.
Where was he? How had he ended up here?
His memories were still foggy, hazy at best. He remembered... something. A battle, perhaps? No—there had been a creature. A terrifying creature, but it was a blur now. The faces of those he had fought with, the weapons he had wielded, all of it had faded into the void of his mind. Nothing made sense. Frustration over being unable to remember added to the other emotions he was feeling.
The door creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. She was middle-aged, with lines etched into her face that spoke of a hard life. Her salt and pepper hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she wore a simple dress covered by a worn apron. Her skin was tanned showing that she spent much of her time in the sum. Her honey-colored eyes were tired but kind as they settled on him.
"You're awake," she said softly, her voice carrying both relief and caution. "I wasn't sure you were going to make it."
He blinked at her, his mouth dry, his throat raw. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse rasp.
"Easy now," she said, moving closer. She sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a gentle hand on his forehead. "You've been through a lot. You're lucky I found you when I did. You were in pretty bad shape. "
"Found me?" he managed to croak, his voice barely audible.
She nodded. "You were out by the forest's edge, half-dead. Wounds everywhere, and a fever to match." She paused, her brow furrowing. "Those wounds were bad. The wound across your chest was so deep I could see your ribs. I don't know what happened to you, but whatever it was, you're lucky to be alive."
The young man winced as she told him about his chest injury. He tried to remember, to piece together how he had ended up there, but his mind refused to cooperate. All he could recall was the system's voice, the status screen that had displayed his broken state.
"I... I don't remember," he admitted, his voice strained as a tear fell from his eye.
"That's not surprising," she said with a soft sigh. "You've been unconscious for days. The body can only take so much. Rest now and know that here you are safe."
A heavy silence settled between them as the weight of his situation pressed down on him. He had no idea who he was, where he came from, or how he had ended up in this woman’s care. His mind was a blank slate, and all he had to go on were the strange visions from the void and the system that had reset his very being.
"I should introduce myself," she said, breaking the silence. "My name's Lyra. This is my farm. You’re safe here, at least for now."
"Thank you..." he muttered, though his gratitude felt hollow. He was grateful to be alive, yes, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. Who was he? Why had he been reduced to this?
---
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the room’s soft glow was interrupted by a sudden ping. The sound was sharp and unexpected, making him jump. A new screen materialized in his mind’s eye, and he struggled to focus on the text that appeared.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Passive Skill Progress: Regeneration
Current Progress to basic: 30%
He blinked, his heart racing. *Regeneration?* He hadn’t felt any improvement in his wounds, at least not visibly. But the system's message implied that his body was healing faster than normal.
He marveled at the screen, a mix of surprise and excitement bubbling up within him. He recalled the intense injuries he had suffered—deep cuts, bruises, and an almost debilitating pain. It made sense that the system would recognize his body’s need for recovery and start to enhance it.
The thought of learning a new skill, something that would actively assist in his healing, was both exhilarating and comforting. It meant that not only could he regain his former strength, but he could also improve beyond it.
His mind raced with possibilities. If regeneration was a passive skill, it would mean that as he continued to recover, his body would gradually heal from even the most grievous injuries. This was a chance to not only get back to where he was but to push past his previous limits.
For the first time since waking, he felt a spark of hope. The system’s presence, the new status screen—it all hinted at a future filled with potential and growth. His path was uncertain, but now, at least, he had a direction.
He couldn’t wait to see what other skills and abilities the system might offer. But for now, he had to focus on the here and now—on healing, on learning, on beginning his journey anew.
---
As the night deepened, and the farmhouse grew quiet, the wounded young man lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling. His body ached, but it was the system's presence that occupied his thoughts.
*Skills earned through practice...*
The words echoed in his mind. He could earn back his strength, his abilities, by training. He had nothing to lose now—no class, no title, no identity. But he could gain something from this.
After he could move, he would begin again. He didn’t know who he had been. He had been given a second chance at life and whatever did this to him was still out there. He needed to get stronger. Even though his past was a blur he knew one thing for certain...
He wouldn’t stay this weak forever.