Arlen sat back, his eye narrowing as the screen in front of him flickered once more. The wolf—Fenri, as he had named it—sat by his side, its dark red-highlighted fur blending into the dimness of the forest. For a moment, Arlen hesitated, staring at the hovering window, still unsure if what he was seeing was real.

The interface had appeared again, the same crisp words floating in front of him:

Welcome, Arlen.

‘What the hell is this thing?’ he thought, and as if responding directly to his question, the screen flickered slightly. He had willed it away before, but now he was ready to examine it. With a thought, the welcome message disappeared.

What replaced it was something disturbingly familiar.

It looked like a video game UI.

His brow furrowed as he stared at the screen before him, floating in midair. The interface had various tabs on the left side, most of them marked with a simple ‘?’. Two tabs, however, were unlocked and visible. The first tab read Status. The second, Inventory.

Name: Arlen Mason

Race: ?

Class: NONE

Arlen blinked at the empty lines where his level and class should be, both marked with ? as though the system itself didn’t know what to make of him. His eye drifted lower, and then he noticed something new—another section beneath his basic stats:

Titles: None

‘Titles?’ He thought about it, but nothing came to mind. It was empty, like something was waiting to be earned. He frowned but moved on, figuring it was another mystery that would reveal itself in time.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

His gaze shifted to the next section, a list of abilities that defined his new form. There were no levels assigned, just a list of skills, each described with brief and vague terms:

Night Vision

‘That explains the perfect vision in the dark,’ he thought, though it didn’t make him feel any better. He scanned further down the list, noticing other items, but none of them mentioned stats like strength, intelligence, or speed. Instead, there were vague terms and categories, all pointing to abilities that seemed to belong to him now.

It wasn’t a typical stat screen. No numerical values for attributes like in the games he used to play in his downtime. There were no strength or dexterity points to assign. Instead, it appeared to be a database of skills—whatever this interface thought he was capable of. Everything was listed in strange terms that felt more like passive traits than actual quantifiable stats.

‘Night Vision, Shadow Manipulation, Enhanced Endurance…’ he read, some of the other abilities catching his eye. It was like looking at a profile for someone else.

Night Vision

Stealth

Enhanced Endurance

Shadow Manipulation

Beast Tamer

Sinister Aura

Arlen stared at the list, realizing that most of these abilities were tied to his new race—his existence as a being made of shadows. ‘Shadow Manipulation?’ he thought, wondering just what that entailed. Could he control shadows somehow? And the Stealth ability explained why his movements had been so quiet. It wasn’t just the forest absorbing the sound; it was him.

“This is me now,” he muttered, his voice low and hollow in the silence.

He let out a breath, willing the Status screen to disappear. As it blinked away, he glanced at the second tab: Inventory. With a thought, it opened, revealing a large, empty grid of slots. Only one item appeared in the corner—his knife, a familiar tactical blade from his life on Earth.

‘At least I’ve still got that,’ he mused, managing a weak smile.

The Inventory, like the rest of the interface, was minimalistic—simple and straightforward, yet haunting in its implications. Arlen closed the screen with a thought, his mind racing. Whatever this interface was, it seemed like the rules of this world didn’t match anything he had ever known.

“Well, this world’s full of surprises,” Arlen muttered, glancing down at Fenri, who sat watching him with curious eyes.

He needed more information—about this place, this interface, and whatever he had become. If he was going to survive, he had to understand the rules. And this interface, as bizarre as it was, might just be the key.