image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/3d68ea16-a432-482f-b714-1de716fbf365/0_2.png]

----------------------------------------

When Peter woke up, the darkness of the night reigned supreme. Somewhere in the distance, a flashlight shone intermittently between the trees of the forest. He wondered who strolled in a monster-infested area, but his curiosity was replaced by a voice. It was very close.

"Who's there?" Peter asked, patting the ground to pick up the javelin, to have a weapon if another monster came.

the voice said.

Peter frowned. The voice sounded… weird. Like the chipmunks in the cartoons. "Who are you? And where?" he asked again, turning around twice. A voice this close should've had a body, yet there was none.

"Ah, OK. That's explains it. Young master Jack, you can come out!" Peter yelled, confident it was another prank.

A blue message appeared in Peter's sight simultaneously with the voice.

"Gah…." Peter gasped. "I b-became a C-cultivator?" he continued, pausing to swallow a lump in the middle. "Is this what they see?"

< Of course not! Cultivators don't see notifications.> The voice had descended in pitch and sounded more normal now.

"Define mess," Peter said, trying anew to identify any hidden prankster.

A sliver of doubt began to sneak into Peter's mind. Maybe he was becoming crazy. That happened sometimes with people closely exposed to Wild Mana, and monsters had large amounts.

"Err… What the hell is going on?"

"You who?"

"Oh," was the only syllable Peter could say.

The voice became tensed.

"About a year. The same day the Cultivators appeared."

Peter grimaced. "They landed near DC with an interdimensional ship looking like a mountain and told us they'll rule us from now on. The US army to shoot three nukes at them… Nothing happened. Shields or something."

"Sorry?"

"I'll take you at your word… All governments on Earth surrendered. Within a month, about one percent of the population got powers—"

"I assure you, they did. About a hundred million people. A third of them developed instinctive magical powers, they're called Wild Magic users, and the rest became Cultivators. The most talented are now educated in Colleges like this one. "

"Yeah."

"You can access the Internet?"

"No much to say. They kept most structures in place but for their own goals. The economy's bad… depression, stuff…"

"I left my phone in my room. This is Dartmouth College."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Not anymore. This town is now an Autonomous Zone. The College and the city were taken over... The Cultivators moved things around with their powers or confiscated real estate… There are big wilderness areas all around us now."

The funny voice sounded confident, yet the effect was comical. A chipmunk bent on world-conquering. "Look, err…System, I'm grateful for the opportunity, but I must decline. Can you please leave my head now?"

"How do I know you will not utilize me for some nefarious purposes? I've read books, you know. This world went to shit, but a System Apocalypse would be even worse.>

The voice became serious.

All of a sudden, a torrent of images assaulted Peter's mind. He knew it was an illusion, but it felt… real. Mines, with majestic and well-lighted tunnels, tens of miles deep, reaching the mantle. Where Mithril was. Somehow, he knew that. Trees, hundreds of feet tall, with art-nouveau-style houses woven between them, and people drinking mead on terraces. Floating airships, some technological, some more on the blimp and sails side. It was beautiful.

"This is how the Multiverse looks?" Peter asked in awe.

"So, no: 'kill ninety-nine percent of the population stuff' by spawning monsters?"

"Oh, goodness…" Peter sighed, surrendering. "So… what now?"

The reply was silence, and it held for a while. the System finally said.

"I don't like how that sounds…" Peter confessed.

"You're sure you can't move elsewhere?"

"Fuck…"

"You can give me a class? Like in the games?" Peter asked in eagerness.

"I want to be a Rogue or a Ranger!" Peter blurted on the spot. If he was stuck with an AI in his head, why not profit, after all?

"Weak to strong, huh?"

"Mean?"

"I guess the first…" Peter sighed. The wise choice was the second, but he didn't like to lie and cheat. It was just a necessary evil in a Cultivator's world.

The System started to hum and mumble. Peter realized he was still stretched on the ground, resting on his elbows. He rose and sat, resting his head on his knees. Ten minutes later, another shiny notification appeared before his eyes, and this time it was a longer one.

Name: Peter Hillden. Age: 21 Lvl. 1 Main Class: Impulse (Legendary, Bespoke)

Body: 14 Mind: 10 Spirit: 12

One Free Attribute Point is available.

Skills: Impulse (Legendary), Influence (Rare).

"What the heck does it mean?" Peter asked. The notification was underwhelming. Impulse? And the stats looked weak.

"Fine!" Peter hissed.

"Great… we have company, let's talk later."

The flashlight from the forest had approached and was now aimed directly at Peter's face, making him protect his eyes behind his arm.

"You OK, kid?"

The voice sounded familiar, and when the light diverted to a side, Peter found himself with the chubby Campus guard staring at him. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

` "A girl came to the party and told them she was attacked by a monster and you chased it away. Then the jerk in chief ordered me to come here and put back some… tantrum?"

"A totem."

"I… didn't find it…," the plump man confessed. "It's dark out there… and mosnters are growling…"

Quest chain: Fix the Totem displaced by Jack the Jerk. Kill the nearby Crazed monsters (1/4). Rewards: Various.

the System interjected.

I don't care! Going after monsters is dangerous!

Fine! "Do you want me to take care of it?" Peter continued aloud, addressing the guard.

"You'd do that for me?" the man asked, a bit of incredulity in his eyes.

"If I borrow your gun," Peter pointed at the holster.

The guard covered the gun in a protective gesture. "I can't… kid… Real bullets here. What if you go berserk and mass-shoot those Cultivators kids?"

"Then you tell the teachers I knocked you out and stole the gun," Peter said, making appear the fifty dollar bill taken from Jack between the fingers. "Seriously, I don't intend to shoot anyone except monsters."

The guard took the bill with one hand and offered his gun with the other. A revolver, a simple point-and-shoot weapon. "If you do shoot them, aim for the testicles. Make them hurt."

"Won't happen," Peter shook his head, fixing the gun behind his belt and taking the two javelins from the ground, the bent one and the one which missed.

"Want the light?" the guard offered.

"I'm OK," Peter said.

"I'll go back to the party," the guard said, turning on his heels and leaving. "The music is good. Don’t shoot them while I'm there, OK?"

After rolling his eyes, Peter entered the forest.