Jimmy exhaled, watching his breath fog up against the gas station’s glass doors. Frost crept over the windows, casting an eerie, crystalline haze on the empty parking lot. He tugged his hoodie closer, trying to keep the biting cold from worming into his bones, then shuffled back to his spot behind the counter. Another slow night, another round of flipping through Carl Jung’s “shadow self” musings.

Not that he disagreed. Even Jung seemed to get it—humanity was a mess of repressed issues, a dumpster fire of flaws. He snorted, glancing at the door and picturing the regulars. People around here wouldn’t know their “shadow” if it ran them over. Self-awareness wasn’t exactly a popular pastime in Limburg; most folks were too busy pretending everything was fine, or fine enough.

For him, Venlo—the small Dutch town he’d moved to during the COVID mess—wasn’t paradise, but it was better than home. Quieter. Simpler. Just the way he liked it. Mostly. The thought of his sister, Lena, popped up unbidden, and he dismissed it with an annoyed sigh. Even memories of her relentless “Little Jimmy” jokes couldn’t distract him tonight.

He tried to focus back on Jung, but then the lights went out—followed by a loud, alien ping that seemed to explode in his mind. A blinding flash turned his view of the gas station to pure black.

SYSTEM NOTIFICATION.

The words blazed across his vision, harsh and bright against the darkness.

Welcome, Earth, to the Integration Trial.

Jimmy blinked, his head buzzing as more text scrolled through his field of vision.

Congratulations! Your world has been selected to join the Primordial Nexus, a network of ancient planets… Earth is now eligible for Integration.

Objective: Clear dungeons, level up, and survive the trials to secure a place in the Nexus. Failure to complete the trial will result in Earth’s deletion.

Jimmy squinted, barely believing what he was reading. This was either the weirdest dream he’d ever had, or the most elaborate prank in human history. Either way, it made clocking in at the gas station look like paradise.

System Rules:

Your planet has one year to complete the Integration Trial.

Survivors must clear dungeons to progress.

Zone Structure: Earth is now divided into two Zones: The Frostmarch and The Scorchrise.

Starting positions and assignments will be distributed shortly. Initiating transfer.

Transfer? Jimmy barely had time to think before his body lurched, as if someone had reached in and yanked his soul clean out of his skin. Weightless, he was suspended in darkness with a dim, surreal glow around him. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed others—dozens, maybe hundreds of blank-eyed people drifting beside him, each of them as stunned and disconnected as he felt.

The System’s voice cut through the void again.

Your planet will be reshaped into Zones and Lands. Each individual will be assigned a path suited to their assessed strength and survival potential. Prepare for re-entry in 5… 4… 3…

A heavy, icy dread bloomed in his chest. A path based on assessed strength? His idea of cardio was pacing during League of Legends load screens.

Then he was slammed back into reality. Only, it didn’t look anything like the gas station.

Jimmy opened his eyes to find himself in the middle of a forest. A freezing, snowy forest. Wind sliced through his thin hoodie, and he shivered, glancing around at the snow-covered trees stretching out in every direction. Gray clouds hung above, threatening even more snow.

A notification popped up in his vision.

Placement Assigned: Winter Land 3 – Frostwood Grove, The Frostmarch Zone. Due to System assessment of player’s unique potential, initial placement has been set to “advanced.” Difficulty level: HIGH.

Jimmy stared, his breath puffing out in short, stunned clouds. Advanced difficulty? Based on what—his skill with a slushie machine? He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm as he scanned the ground for anything that could pass as a weapon. A thick, splintered branch lay nearby. He hefted it, testing its weight. Awkward and clunky, but better than nothing.

Just as he was adjusting his grip, a low, guttural growl echoed through the trees. Jimmy froze, heart pounding as his brain jumped straight into survival mode.

The shadows shifted. A wolf—if it could even be called that—slunk out of the darkness, its fur matted with frost, teeth bared, and eyes glowing an unnatural, icy blue. A faint Level 5 hovered above its head in pale letters.

He tightened his grip on the branch, nerves fraying. “So, System, this is your idea of a housewarming gift? Freezing, bloodthirsty wolves?”

The wolf’s snarl sliced through the silence, and in the split second before it lunged, Jimmy had one very profound realization: he was absolutely, totally screwed.

The wolf pounced, and Jimmy did the only thing he could think of—sidestepped, swinging the branch with all the force of a terrified guy with zero upper body strength. The branch connected with a dull thunk, sending a shock wave up his arm that left his bones humming. The wolf barely staggered, almost like it was offended he’d tried.

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“Perfect,” he muttered, scrambling to keep his balance. “Glad I’m putting my best foot forward here.”

The wolf lunged again, and Jimmy dodged, swinging the branch around with all the finesse of a panicked dad swatting a wasp. In the chaos, he caught himself muttering a steady stream of creative curses. The wolf snapped at him, teeth inches from his leg, and he swung so hard he nearly spun himself off-balance. This was less a fight and more of a tragic display of aerobic exercise.

Finally—after what felt like hours but was probably 45 seconds—the wolf collapsed in the snow at his feet, twitching in what he could only imagine was the wolf equivalent of Okay, fine, I give up.

Jimmy stood there, panting, his breath fogging in the cold air. A notification flashed in his vision.

Congratulations on your first encounter. Compensatory Reward Issued: Treasure Chest.

A treasure chest shimmered into existence in front of him, dusted with fresh snow. Jimmy stared at it, eyebrows raised. Compensatory reward? He knelt, opening the lid with the world’s heaviest sigh. “What, for the privilege of almost getting chewed up by a Level 5 wolf on my advanced path?”

He was half-tempted to kick the chest just on principle.

The System had thrown him into a high-difficulty area, handed him a stick, and launched a Level 5 killing machine at him like it was nothing. He was Level 1—barely equipped to handle daylight, let alone monsters. And now, here was his reward. He could practically hear the System mocking him.

He lifted the lid, peeking inside.

Items Obtained:

* Iron-Tipped Longsword: A functional sword, balanced for slashing, with a solid iron edge. Perfect for a beginner swordsman—or, you know, someone who’d rather be at home watching Netflix.

* Frostbite Coat: A long, black coat with a classic swordsman cut. Thin but deceptively warm, because apparently looking cool is just as important as not freezing to death.

* Bag of Holding: A spatially-enhanced item that allows you to carry equipment, loot, and supplies without added weight. Contents can be summoned or dismissed with a thought.

Jimmy grabbed the sword, giving it an experimental swing. He was surprised by the weight and balance—it felt like a real weapon, like something that might actually save his life. The hilt fit comfortably in his hand, and the blade’s edge gleamed with brutal promise.

Next, he shrugged on the coat, warmth spreading through his shoulders and chest instantly. The coat was dark and fitted, allowing him to move freely, and tailored enough to make him look halfway like someone who knew what they were doing. “So the System wants me to survive and look good doing it. What’s next, matching gloves?”

The last item was Bag of Holding. Jimmy turned the pouch over in his hands, feeling the smooth, weightless leather. It looked ordinary enough, but as he reached inside, he realized there was more room than its appearance suggested. His arm sank in, further than it should have, reaching into an open, seemingly endless space.“Well, that’s convenient,” he muttered, a grin creeping onto his face. “Guess I won’t need to drag half a forest’s worth of branches around.”

A new notification flashed in his vision.

Map System Unlocked.

He squinted, watching as a glowing outline of a map expanded over his surroundings. A small blue dot marked his position in the heart of a forest labeled Frostwood Grove, The Frostmarch Zone.

“Frostwood Grove, huh?” He scanned the map, noticing a label far off—First Hub: Frostmarch Outpost. The downside? Nine marked lands separated him from this “outpost,” each sporting an ominous dungeon icon.

He sighed, gripping his sword instinctively as he squinted into the trees. “Nothing says ‘welcome’ like a treacherous nine-area hike.”

Just as he prepared to start moving, a flicker of movement caught his eye—low to the ground, prowling. His heart sank. Wolves. Three of them, each with those same blue, unnatural eyes, closing in as silent as shadows. Level 5 floated above each of their heads, a mocking reminder of what “high-difficulty” meant.

“Frostbite, round two,” he muttered, bracing himself.

The wolves moved in coordinated silence, one lunging as the others circled. Jimmy sidestepped, slashing down in a clean arc. The blade bit into the wolf’s side, and it yelped, staggering back. But another was already on him, teeth tearing into his jeans, just grazing his skin before he kicked it off.

“Real nice,” he muttered, barely catching his breath. He turned, bringing the sword down on the next wolf’s side, feeling the satisfying give of flesh under the blade. The creature fell, and he spun just in time to face the last one, which was already mid-leap.

He dodged and slashed as it passed, sending it sliding across the snow.

Jimmy exhaled, glancing down at the wolves sprawled around him. His leg and arm throbbed, the cuts stinging in the cold air. A familiar ping sounded, and a notification appeared.

Level Up! Would you like to check your status?

“Well, let’s see what all this trouble’s getting me,” he muttered, pulling up his screen.

Status: Jimmy Holloway

Level: 2

Title: [Unassigned]

Class: None

Core Stats:

* Strength: 11

* Dexterity: 13

* Intelligence: 8

* Vitality: 14

He stared at the numbers, his face slowly scrunching up. “Wait… that’s it?” A laugh escaped him, but it was tinged with disbelief. “Eleven strength? Thirteen dex? I’m supposed to be fighting monsters, not going in for my first game of Wii Sports!”

He snorted, scrolling through the stats as if he might’ve missed something. “I’m one point away from ‘Guy Who Faints If He Stands Up Too Fast.’ I mean, come on, System, couldn’t you throw me a little muscle?”

Jimmy sighed, rubbing his temples, trying to wrap his head around it. He felt like he’d just rolled the stats for a character that’d be a joke in any RPG—a true underdog, like if someone had thrown Frodo into Dark Souls and said, “Have fun!”

A strange warmth flowed through him, seeping into his arms and legs. He glanced down at his arm, where one of the wolves had clawed him. The wound was already closing, the ache vanishing with it.

“Huh.” He flexed his fingers, watching as the sting in his leg faded, leaving behind faint pink scars. “Auto-healing with every level. Not bad.” He tugged his coat closer and trudged toward the pulsing dungeon icon on his map. His thoughts drifted back to the life he’d been plucked from. He could still picture his cramped little apartment in Venlo, a corner of the world he’d carved out for himself. He thought of Lena, his twin sister, left back home while he moved here. Stubborn, sharp—if anyone could handle this insanity, it’d be her.

He smiled faintly, imagining her reaction. Wherever she was, she’d probably gotten the same message. Even if she was okay, he couldn’t help but worry.

He swiped the map open again, gaze landing on a counter blinking ominously in the corner:

Countdown to Earth’s Destruction: 364 Days, 22 Hours, 41 Minutes.

A whole year. That’s what the System had given them to finish the trial. He half-expected the counter to mock him with something like Tick-tock, Jimmy, but it just sat there, cold as the frost beneath his boots.

“Let’s be real, Jimmy,” he muttered, voice barely louder than a whisper in the woods. “If the System thinks we’re worth saving, then it’s got a real sense of humor.”

With one last look at the countdown, he pushed forward, a faint smirk creeping onto his face as he trudged into the unknown.