Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

I wake up in the same damp place I was in when I left the Island.

“I can’t feel my body,” I thought, attempting to stand. Yet, I could not move. I was utterly still. Slowly, I realized why: I had no physical form. I was without spatial existence, a formless presence.

“Is this death for System users?” I pondered. Time had lost meaning. I neither existed within the flow of time nor the spatial realm, yet I remained conscious. I wasn’t alive in the way I once understood it, but I also knew I was not dead.

Time, or the lack thereof, stretched on. It could have been mere seconds or entire eternities as I drifted in the void. Alone.

“Or was I?”

Eventually, I began to feel again. A faint awareness crept into me—an understanding of my surroundings, though they were only a repetition of the cold and damp of the void I inhabited. For all its desolation, one sensation became clear: liberation.

Without a body, I was free in ways I had never known. Unbound. Unshackled. Wings—those long-hidden wings I had never fully controlled—hovered just at the edge of my awareness. The system had locked them away, tied them to its constraints, but now, they were mine. Not attached to me, but undeniably part of me.

“Why was a physical trait locked behind the system? Why wasn’t I allowed to control it freely?” I mused. I could feel the wings, not as physical limbs but extensions of my will, vibrating with latent power. Though still unable to move, I instinctively shifted my awareness, using the wings to turn and orient myself.

For the first time, I could move through the void—not walking, not flying, but floating, propelled by the energy of the wings. I drifted toward a faint energy signature I recognized: the Island.

“That energy can help me,” I thought, locking onto the signature. It pulsed like a beacon, guiding me. I glided through the emptiness toward it, the faint pull strengthening with every passing moment. Yet as I approached, the Island seemed to retreat. The closer I tried to get, the farther it seemed to drift, as if repelling me.

Frustrated, I stopped and gazed at the retreating mass. “How did I get these wings?” I questioned aloud. The thought gave rise to another realization: if I could manifest wings, could I manifest a physical form?

I focused, summoning the sensations I remembered when I had first broken free from the system’s constraints—when I had wielded power without its mediation. The feeling surged, and my form began to reassemble. My body wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough: a face, arms, legs, and a torso, all formed by will. The wings remained untethered, floating behind me, anchored to a luminous, circular ring that emanated the same void-like energy as the realm around me.

Reassembled, I surged forward at unimaginable speeds—perhaps even the speed of light—driven by a singular desire to reach the Island. The journey stretched endlessly; seconds turned into hours, hours into days, and days into an indeterminate eternity.

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“I’ve been here for millennia, if not more,” I muttered to myself, lost in the unchanging scenery. Yet, no matter how far or fast I traveled, I remained in the same loop. Each attempt brought me back to the starting point.

“I want out,” I finally declared. The words echoed in the emptiness. Resolute, I planted myself in place, waiting. How long? I could not say. It might have been longer than the lifespan of the universe itself.

Then, suddenly, a flash.

A massive stone door loomed before me, its architecture unmistakably similar to that of the Island.

I reached out and touched its cold, unyielding surface. A glitch shimmered in the air before me: the familiar System notification box. For a fleeting moment, fear gripped me.

“Player has evolved. Player has completed Trial #30. Player is no longer a player. Player is no longer an existence tied to this universe. Player is beyond the system’s reach. Player is allowed to venture into the CORE.”

The announcements thundered through my being, louder than anything I had ever heard. The very fabric of the void quaked—not just the Island, not just this realm, but existence itself.

Steeling myself, I pressed against the door. At my touch, I was teleported instantly.

I found myself in what appeared to be a laboratory, filled with impossibly advanced technology. The lab bore an aesthetic reminiscent of the system’s design—futuristic, symmetrical, and sterile.

I moved forward, drawn toward the center of the dome-shaped space. Yet, the distance seemed inconsistent. One step brought me either no closer or propelled me inexplicably to the far edge of the room. It was disorienting, yet I understood: this space bent to my will. I had control.

At the center stood two objects: a computer and a book.

The book caught my attention immediately. Its cover was inscribed with strange, otherworldly symbols—symbols I recognized from my Void skill. Yet the text within was encrypted, its contents indecipherable.

I opened the book, and the first page contained a single note:

“Translated text is on the computer. The password is ‘HxZ: Lord Emperor of Existence.’”

“What a ridiculous password,” I muttered, setting the book aside and turning my attention to the computer.

Its interface was surprisingly familiar—almost mundane. A Linux distribution, but overlaid with an impossibly sleek, hyper-technological interface. I entered the password, and as the computer unlocked, I was bombarded with a torrent of information.

It didn’t display on the screen. Instead, the data was transmitted directly into my mind. Knowledge poured into me—truths, histories, revelations.

Most of it was noise, inconsequential and irrelevant to my current existence. Details about deicide, ancient wars, and metaphysical structures of reality. One revelation stood out above the rest: without the system, I was nearly immortal in this universe. The constraints of mortality no longer applied to me.

Another chilling truth emerged: God had been summoning people from other worlds endlessly.

The computer contained a database of every system user ever registered. Over a million individuals had been summoned from Earth alone, spanning centuries. A leaderboard displayed names I knew: Lucas dominated the top rank, followed by my classmates and even our teacher.

Before I could digest this information, a final message flashed on the screen:

“Perfect body has been completed. Please proceed to acquire this body.”

The floor beneath me gave way. I was thrown into a void-like pit, its darkness swallowing me whole.

And then, there was nothing.