The griffin's monstrous shadow engulfed Mark, its razor-sharp talons glinting menacingly in the sunlight. Panic surged through him, but then, a strange tingling sensation washed over him. Instinctively, he reached out with his hand, a desperate hope flickering in his chest.
To his utter astonishment, another Mark materialized beside him – a perfect copy, blinking in confusion. The griffin screeched in surprise, its dive momentarily halted by this unexpected duplication. The two Marks stared at each other, mouths agape, a silent scream trapped in their throats.
Information flooded Mark's mind – a torrent of memories, skills, and raw surprise. His clone, it seemed, possessed everything he did. A giddy mix of fear and exhilaration bubbled within him. Could this be the key to surviving this nightmare?
The griffin recovered quickly, its enraged screech shattering the stunned silence. With renewed determination, it lunged again. Mark, emboldened by the presence of his clone, didn't cower this time. Instead, he grabbed a small pebble from the ground and hurled it at the creature, a desperate attempt at distraction.
The pebble, propelled by a surprising burst of strength (had his clone boosted his throwing arm too?), struck the griffin true. The beast screeched in pain, momentarily staggering back. A translucent screen flickered into existence before Mark's eyes, glowing blue letters emblazoned across it:
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
**Critical Hit! +10 XP**
Mark blinked, momentarily forgetting the enraged griffin. Experience points? Was this some elaborate VR experience gone rogue? He reached out tentatively towards the screen, and a new menu unfolded before him. Health bar, mana bar (though it was currently empty), and a list of basic skills, including the one labeled "Improvised Projectile."
A wave of curiosity washed over him, battling the primal fear gnawing at his insides. This was…unexpected. But maybe, just maybe, it was his ticket out of this mess.
Ignoring the griffin's enraged screeches for now, Mark delved deeper into the menu. He discovered a quest log, currently blank, and a notification system that informed him of his agility increasing by 1 point – a testament to his near miss with the griffin's attack.
He tore his gaze away from the menu, the fantastical world around him finally registering. Rolling hills bathed in warm sunlight stretched out before him, dotted with strange, vibrantly colored flora that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Creatures unlike anything he'd ever seen chirped and chattered in the distance, their calls echoing off the towering, moss-covered trees unlike any on Earth.
This wasn't a game. This was real. And Mark, with his newfound abilities and a whole lot of questions, was stuck right in the middle of it. The griffin circled overhead, its patience wearing thin. Mark knew he couldn't stay here forever, lost in the wonders of the System. He had a choice to make – fight, flee, or somehow exploit this bizarre situation to his advantage.
With a deep breath, Mark glanced at his clone, a determined glint in his eyes. This was a new world, a new adventure, and he, CloneTrooper64, was ready to face it, one pebble at a time.