When Jude fell asleep, the worst possible thing happened—he saw the day of his rebirth again.
The memory was still raw, lingering at the edges of his mind like the ache of an old injury. He had awoken in darkness—complete and suffocating. At first, he’d thought he was awake. But he was still dreaming.
FIVE WEEKS AGO
When Jude first opened his eyes, there was nothing but an endless void. He felt like he was floating in the water, except there was no sensation of wetness, no resistance to his movements.
Just the eerie, weightless nothing.
[WELCOME, TRAVELER] a voice said, smooth and calm, yet somehow devoid of warmth. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Jude spun around, trying to locate the source, but there was no figure, no speaker to address. "Who’s there?" he asked, his voice echoing strangely.
[YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN] the voice continued, ignoring his question.
"Chosen for what?" Jude snapped. His old instincts kicked in—keep your guard up, stay in control. But there was no body to guard, no ground to stand on. "Where am I?"
[YOU ARE IN TRANSITION] the voice replied. [BETWEEN YOUR FORMER EXISTENCE AND A NEW ONE]
Transition? Jude’s stomach turned, though he wasn’t sure he even had a stomach at the moment. The last thing he remembered was the cold of his gym, the sweat-soaked air after a grueling training session, and… pain.
Sharp, blinding pain in his chest.
"Am I dead?" he asked finally and immediately felt stupid.
[YES AND NO] the voice said. [YOUR BODY IN THE PREVIOUS WORLD IS NO MORE, BUT YOUR SPIRIT HAS BEEN GRANTED THE OPPORTUNITY TO BEGIN AGAIN]
Jude wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or rage. Begin again? What kind of cryptic nonsense was this? "Why me?" he demanded. "Why not someone else?"
[WE ARE NOT AT LIBERTY TO DISCUSS THIS] the voice answered plainly.
"Figures," Jude muttered. He was getting sick of talking to no one. "So what happens now? Do I just... float here forever?"
The voice ignored his sarcasm. [FIRST, YOU MUST CHOOSE YOUR FORM]
"My what?" He thought he had misheard the voice.
Suddenly, the void began to shift. Lights flickered in the distance, coalescing into shapes. Human silhouettes, animals, strange creatures with horns, wings, tails, and more. Each one hovered before him, spinning slowly as if on display.
Jude stared at the figures.
This looks almost… familiar.
It was like a menu from some RPG he’d seen his son play years ago, back when they still had weekends together.
"Is this... a game?" he muttered under his breath.
[NOTHING IS A GAME] the voice replied, and Jude could swear he was hearing notes of metal. [CHOOSE WISELY. EACH FORM HAS STRENGTHS AND WEAKNESSES]
Exactly like a game, Jude almost added but decided not to. Something told him that arguing with the voice was unwise.
One particular form caught his eye—a towering beast with thick, scaled skin and claws like daggers. Beside it, a translucent figure with glowing eyes and flowing hair. Another seemed to be a massive tree-like entity.
"Uh, maybe something normal?" Jude said, glancing at the humanoid options.
Several human-like figures hovered closer in response, each slightly different. One had a tall, thin build and an even thinner neck. Another was something like a dwarf he saw once in some fantasy movie.
But one form stood out: a lithe, blue-skinned figure with sharp features and striking white hair.
"What’s that one?" Jude asked.
[A DUSKWALKER] the voice replied.
Jude read some text that appeared right in front of him: "A rare and solitary race, known for their resilience and adaptability. Their connection to shadow grants them enhanced physical prowess and resistance to certain magics, though their presence often provokes mistrust."
Jude studied the figure. It looked strong enough without being over the top. Something about its quiet intensity resonated with him. "Duskwalker, huh? Sounds fitting."
[YOU HAVE CHOSEN YOUR RACE. NOW, CHOOSE YOUR CLASS]
The scene shifted again. This time, the options were less fantastical but no less overwhelming. Weapons and tools hovered alongside their corresponding archetypes: a knight with gleaming armor, a robed mage surrounded by swirling orbs of light, and a thief cloaked in shadow.
"Let me guess," Jude said. "Each of these decides what I can do in this new life?"
He scanned the options, but none of the flashy ones appealed to him. He wasn’t a wizard or some sneaky backstabber. He was a fighter, plain and simple. That’s what he’d always been.
His eyes landed on a figure with wrapped hands, bare-knuckled and bruised, its body honed for combat.
"That one," he said immediately. "The unarmed one."
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[A PUGILIST] the voice confirmed.
As the name implied, a [Pugilist] was a specialist in hand-to-hand combat, relying on agility, endurance, and raw physical strength. It was one step above having no class, but it was the closest thing to MMA that Jude could find here.
[BE WARNED] the voice added. [PUGILISTS EXCEL IN PHYSICAL CONFRONTATIONS BUT ARE VULNERABLE TO MAGICAL ATTACKS]
There was another catch, too: a pugilist was forbidden from ever using any weapons.
Bareknuckle Purity
Effect: Strength and Agility are reduced by 30% when armed with any weapon.
Bonus: Unarmed attacks gain an additional 15% base damage, and stamina drain for unarmed combat is reduced by 10%.
"I’ve made a career out of fighting with no weapons," Jude reasoned, "I’ll manage."
A line appeared right in front of his eyes, that said:
[HAVE YOU MADE YOUR CHOICE? Y/N]
“Yes,” Jude replied immediately. There was no point in wasting time.
The choices were locked in, and the lights dimmed. For the first time in a long time, Jude felt the weight of his own form again. He flexed his hands, noting the blue hue of his skin and the strength in his fingers. His body felt different, but not foreign.
And also, he felt younger. So much younger.
[YOU ARE READY] the voice said. [PREPARE FOR A NEW LIFE]
But Jude hesitated. His mind raced with doubts. What kind of world was he about to step into? Was it worth the fight? Would it even matter?
"What happens if I fail?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
[FAILURE IS NOT THE END] the voice replied.
Jude exhaled slowly, steeling himself. He’d faced impossible odds before. This wasn’t any different—or so he told himself.
"All right," he said. "Let’s get this over with."
The void shifted one final time, and Jude felt himself being pulled forward, the darkness giving way to a blinding light. He clenched his fists, ready for whatever came next.
* * * * *
A sudden jolt brought Jude to his senses. He wasn’t floating anymore. Instead, he found himself standing on a featureless platform of shifting stone. Above him hovered glowing lines of text, suspended like celestial graffiti.
Race Selected: Duskwalker
Class Selected: Pugilist
Base Attributes:
* Strength: 10
* Dexterity: 8
* Endurance: 8
* Intelligence: 6
* Willpower: 7
You have 10 unallocated points.
Jude blinked at the words. “Unallocated points? Like a character sheet?”
Jude rubbed his temples. He wasn’t a stranger to strategy. Hell, he’d spent half his life drilling young fighters on how to exploit their strengths and cover their weaknesses.
But this wasn’t some fighter in his gym. This was him. His new life.
“All right,” he muttered. “Let’s not screw this up.”
He studied the stats again, mentally breaking them down like a game plan.
Strength: He was already built for power, but more strength would mean harder strikes and better grappling. Useful for a brawler.
Dexterity: His footwork and reaction time had always been his edge. Increasing dexterity could make him faster, more precise.
Endurance: He’d need to take hits and keep going. Endurance was survival, plain and simple.
Intelligence and Willpower: These were trickier. He wasn’t a scholar, but he couldn’t afford to be a fool, either.
And willpower? That sounded like the kind of thing that kept you standing when your body wanted to quit.
“Okay,” he said aloud. “Strength, endurance, and dexterity get the bulk. Gotta stay in the fight long enough to win it.”
With a swipe of his hand, he allocated the points:
Final Attributes:
* Strength: 14 (+4)
* Dexterity: 10 (+2)
* Endurance: 11 (+3)
* Intelligence: 7 (+1)
* Willpower: 7
The text shimmered for a moment before solidifying. A faint warmth spread through Jude’s body. He felt himself reshaped by something from the inside out.
Choose One Starting Perk:
* Iron Fists: Increases unarmed strike damage by 15%.
* Last Stand: Temporarily boosts Strength and Dexterity by 20% when HP drops below 30%.
* Steady Resolve: Reduces stamina drain by 10% during prolonged combat.
Jude whistled softly, rubbing his chin. “All right. This is where it gets interesting.”
Iron Fists was tempting. He was a brawler, after all. Hitting harder was never a bad thing. But something about Last Stand caught his attention.
It felt... right. He’d spent his life teaching fighters how to push through exhaustion, pain, and fear. That final burst of strength when the chips were down—that was where the real battles were won.
“Last Stand,” he said, swiping toward it.
Without warning, the ground beneath him shifted. The stone platform dissolved into a jagged expanse of rocky terrain. A faint breeze carried the scent of damp earth and something metallic—blood, maybe?
“Wait, what’s going on?” Jude said, his fists raised instinctively.
[A TEST] the voice replied, dispassionate as ever. [PROVE YOUR WORTH]
In the distance, a shadowy figure emerged. Its form was humanoid but wrong—too tall, too thin, with elongated arms and a jagged, featureless face. It moved with a predatory grace, circling Jude like a wolf sizing up its prey.
Enemy encountered: Wraithling Stalker
Level: 2
HP: 150
A red bar appeared above the creature’s head, pulsing faintly. At the same time, another bar appeared in Jude’s vision—his own HP, a stark reminder of just how real this fight was.
Jude Mason
HP: 240
Stamina: 100
The Wraithling lunged first, its claws raking through the air. Jude dodged to the side, the movement fluid and instinctive. He countered with a quick jab to its torso, the impact sending a faint ripple through the creature’s smoky form.
Enemy HP: 135/150
“Not bad,” Jude muttered, shifting his stance. The creature didn’t react, its featureless face tilting slightly before attacking again. This time, its claws connected, slashing across Jude’s forearm. Pain flared, hot, and immediate.
HP: 185/200
Jude hissed through his teeth, his mind racing. “All right, you want to play rough? Let’s play.”
He closed the distance, slipping under the creature’s next swipe and landing a solid hook to its midsection. The Wraithling staggered, and Jude pressed the advantage. A jab-cross combo followed by a vicious uppercut sent the creature reeling, its HP bar dropping with every strike.
Enemy HP: 70/150
But the Wraithling wasn’t done. It surged forward, its movements more erratic now, and raked its claws across Jude’s ribs. The pain was sharper this time, knocking the wind out of him.
Jude stumbled back, his vision blurring slightly. But then it happened—a surge of energy coursing through his veins, stronger and sharper than anything he’d felt before.
Last Stand activated: Strength +20%, Dexterity +20%
Now we’re in business!
The creature lunged again, but this time Jude was faster. He sidestepped smoothly, grabbing its arm mid-swing and twisting sharply. The Wraithling let out a distorted hiss as Jude drove his knee into its torso, shattering what little cohesion its form had left. With one final strike—a brutal elbow to where its head should’ve been—the creature dissolved into wisps of smoke.
Victory!
Jude exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the world around him began to fade.
[WELL DONE] the voice said. [YOUR NEW LIFE BEGINS NOW]
The ground disappeared beneath him, and Jude felt himself falling—faster and faster, until the light engulfed him once more. This time, when he landed, it was on solid earth. He felt the hum of life buzz around him: the rustling of leaves, the chirp of insects.
Jude looked up, the sun warm on his blue-tinted skin. The real fight was about to begin.
This all took place five weeks ago, but Jude could still not figure out the reason he was left alive.
Surely, there must be one?
Surely...