If Tuesday mornings had a personality, mine would definitely be "passive‑aggressive." Sunlight stabbed through the half‑closed blinds of my messy bedroom like it was personally offended by my existence. My computer hummed angrily, the way it always did right before crashing—its favorite hobby.
I sat slumped in my gaming chair, eyes glued to the screen, hands a blur on the keyboard.
"Come on, come on—NO! WHY?!" I slammed my hand on the desk. My empty soda can jumped in fear.
My voice echoed through my headphones.
"Lag? Now? Seriously? What did I ever do to you, Internet Gods?!"
A beat.
"Okay, fine, besides that one time I downloaded 'questionable software' because it promised to boost FPS."
I sighed dramatically.
Let the record show: Tuesday mornings are usually my top-tier procrastination window. Homework? Nope. School? Double nope. But video games? That's where I excel. Or at least, where I should've been excelling.
Instead?
My K/D ratio was embarrassing, my team was about as coordinated as a squad of caffeinated squirrels, and my Internet was acting like it'd taken a personal oath to ruin my life.
I groaned and threw my hands up.
"This is one of THOSE days, isn't it? The kind where even the universe wants to unsubscribe from you."
Then—
My monitor flickered. A sharp, electric crackle tore through the speakers. Static danced across the screen like angry lightning bugs on caffeine.
I yanked my headphones off.
"Whoa—hey! Don't die on me now! I'm not even level fifty yet!"
The glow from the screen intensified, pulsing brighter, then brighter, until my entire room was bathed in a surreal, jittering blue‑white light. Shadows warped. The posters on my wall rippled like they were underwater. My stomach flipped.
"Okay, that's… new."
The light surged one last time. I threw my arm over my face, bracing for—I don't know—an explosion? A blackout? A portal to Narnia?
Instead… silence.
I lowered my arm.
The monitor looked… normal now. But sharper. Too sharp. Like someone had secretly installed a 16K graphics card while I was sleeping.
Then something else happened. Something I truly, honestly never expected outside of late-night gaming fantasies.
When I waved my hand, a transparent floating panel blinked into existence at the edge of my vision. A HUD. A literal heads-up display.
[LEVEL: 1]
[EXP: 0/100]
[HP: 100/100]
[MP: 50/50]
[STRENGTH: 10]
[DEXTERITY: 12]
[INTELLIGENCE: 15]
[LUCK: … Are you kidding me?]
I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Blinked again.
Still there.
"No. Nope. No way. This is a prank. This is… I finally cracked, didn't I? Too much gaming. Too much caffeine. My brain finally rage-quit."
I pinched myself. Hard.
"Ow! Okay, great. Pain still works. So I'm awake. Which means either I'm hallucinating, or…" I tilted my head at the HUD. "Or my PC just installed an update from another universe."
I took a step. The HUD flickered.
I jumped experimentally. It flickered again.
"Oh my god," I whispered. "It's following me."
My heart was pounding in my chest, but—let's be real—so was a very real, very nerdy excitement.
A HUD.
In real life.
This was the dream.
"Okay, Alex," I breathed. "Don't panic. Or maybe panic a little. But also… this is the coolest thing EVER."
To test the stats, I grabbed the heaviest thing in my room: my history textbook. It normally weighed as much as a baby elephant and twice as annoying. But now?
I picked it up with one hand.
"One-hand lift?" I gasped. "Strength +10, I love you."
I opened my window. Outside, the backyard stretched out under a clear blue sky. The old tire swing dangled lazily from the tree. I raised the textbook, grinned, and muttered:
"Okay, Dexterity… don't fail me."
I threw the textbook with the gentlest flick of my wrist.
WHOOOOSH.
It tore through the air like a missile and slammed the tire swing so hard the whole tree shivered.
I pumped my fist.
"Yes! Alex: one. Physics: zero."
Then the world shook.
The rumble started soft—like distant thunder. But it grew. Fast. The glass in my window rattled. The floor vibrated under my feet.
My smile fell.
"Earthquake?"
But no. It felt… wrong. Too deep. Too much like something massive was moving under us.
I leaned out the window.
Across the street, the asphalt cracked open like a giant invisible hand had ripped it apart. Smoke billowed. Dust curled. And then—
Something crawled out.
Huge. Reptilian. Its eyes burned red. Dark energy crackled around its claws as it pulled itself up from the fissure, roaring loud enough to shake the air.
I froze.
"Oh. Oh no. Nope. Not today."
My HUD flashed violently.
[QUEST ALERT!]
[MAIN QUEST: SURVIVE]
[BONUS OBJECTIVE: PROTECT THE WORLD… Seriously, NO PRESSURE!]
I stared from the quest window to the gargantuan nightmare stomping its way onto my street.
"You've GOT to be kidding me," I groaned. "Level One? Against… THAT?!"
But beneath the panic, something inside me sparked. Determination. Or insanity. Hard to tell the difference.
Either way, the world had suddenly turned into an RPG.
And if there's one thing I knew?
You don't ignore the Main Quest.
I clenched my fists, swallowed hard, and whispered:
"Game on, universe."
As if responding, my HUD pinged, text blinking:
[COMBAT EXP +15]
Another message glitched beneath it:
[USER STATUS: UNAUTHORIZED]
I blinked.
"Unauthorized? What does THAT mean—"
The message distorted, pixelated, and vanished.
Then the monster roared again.
And the real game began.