"+10 experience for killing Level 1 Pixie"
The words hammered in Jason's mind, clear as if spoken aloud, yet without a sound. He stared at the minuscule, motionless form of the pixie on the grass, then back at the invisible text now burned into his thoughts. Experience? For killing a pixie? His average mind, accustomed to spreadsheets and traffic jams, recoiled from the sheer, illogical absurdity.
"This isn't a video game!" he thought, the protest screaming in his head. "I could've died by that dragon! The dragon! And you're telling me I get experience for this?!"
A fresh wave of rage, hot and irrational, surged through him, eclipsing the fear that had spurred his flight. This wasn't some fantasy novel he could close, some game he could log out of. This was his life, or what was left of it. He had been stabbed, nearly incinerated by a dragon, and now his brain was apparently running on some kind of bizarre, magical operating system.
"This is bullshit!" Jason roared, waving his arms wildly at the empty air, at the indifferent world, at the unseen "System" that was now dictating his reality. Not knowing how else to react to the sheer, overwhelming unfairness of it all, he grabbed a nearby stick, thin and brittle, and hurled it with all his strength. It spun uselessly through the air before landing with a soft thud a few yards away.
He pinched himself hard. Nothing. The field stretched out, empty and quiet. The distant battlefield was silent. The dragon was gone. He was truly, utterly alone, with a dead pixie and a game interface in his head.
He tried to force the notification away, to dismiss it like a pop-up ad, but it clung to his mental periphery. Experience. He remembered the concept from old RPGs he'd dabbled in, but this wasn't a game. He was no hero. He was just Jason.
"System," he mumbled, trying to activate it, half out of desperation, half out of a dark, morbid curiosity. "Open menu? Stats? Inventory?"
And then, as if in response to his clumsy, frustrated commands, a translucent blue panel shimmered into existence before his eyes. It was faint, like a hologram, perfectly aligned with his vision, yet completely separate from the real world. He could see through it to the field beyond.
[Jason Miller]
Level: 1 (0/100 XP)Health: 100/100Stamina: 100/100Strength: 5Dexterity: 6Constitution: 7Intelligence: 8Wisdom: 6Charisma: 4
Skills:
Basic Survival (Lvl 1)Observe (Lvl 1)
Inventory:
Empty
Quests:
None
Jason gaped. It was real. All of it. The average stats reflected his perfectly unremarkable life. 4 Charisma? Ouch. He snorted a humorless laugh. Figures. Even the cosmic cheat code thinks I'm boring.
He blinked, and the panel remained. He tried to mentally "close" it, and it vanished. Another blink, a thought of "Stats," and it reappeared. He experimented, opening and closing it, marveling at the seamless mental interface.
He focused on "Health" and "Stamina." Both full. No stab wounds, no lingering pain. He recalled the blood on his jacket, the searing pain. He'd been dead. This "system"… it hadn't just given him experience, it had somehow healed him, reborn him.
His gaze flickered to "Skills."
Basic Survival (Lvl 1):Grants rudimentary knowledge for wilderness survival. (Current bonus: +5% efficiency to foraging, water finding).Observe (Lvl 1):Allows for basic identification of objects, creatures, and their properties. (Current bonus: Shows name and Level of target).
Observe, he thought, looking at the dead pixie again. Instantly, a small text box appeared above its corpse:
[Pixie - Level 1 (Deceased)]A small, winged humanoid creature common in forests.
It wasn't much, but it was confirmation. And it gave him an idea. If killing things gave him XP, and he needed to level up to survive...
His stomach rumbled, a sharp, unpleasant reminder of his body's needs. He had no food, no water, no shelter. He was in a strange, dangerous world, a world where dragons roamed and battles raged with magic, a world where dead pixies gave him experience points. He was alone. But he wasn't entirely helpless. Not anymore. He had a System.
The primal fear from the forest began to recede, replaced by a cold, calculating determination. He had nothing left to lose. Everything was gone. He would survive. He would understand this place. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be "average" anymore.
He scanned the tree line, then the open field, a new purpose slowly solidifying in his mind. The battle was over, for now. But the forest… the forest was still silent. And he had a Level 1 in "Basic Survival."