The morning sun warmed Sylas's face as he woke on a pile of hay inside the barn. His muscles ached from yesterday's labor, and his hands were red with calluses that hadn't been there before. A far cry from hospital sheets and IV lines.
He sat up, rubbing his neck, listening to the quiet hum of village life outside. Roosters crowed. A cart creaked past the barn. Somewhere in the distance, someone laughed.
His copper coins clinked softly in a pouch tied to his belt. He had money. He had food. He was alive.
Still, something gnawed at the edge of his thoughts.
Is this really a game world? Or is it something else?
He stood, brushing straw from his tunic, and stepped into the sunlight. The sky was a bright, endless blue—not the artificial digital kind with repeating textures. Real.
[Quest Reminder: "Mira's Shed"]
[Objective: Speak to Mira about the abandoned shed.]
The system's text floated neatly in his vision, crisp and clear. But even that felt different today. Not like a UI screen on a monitor. It had… presence.
He sighed and followed the dirt path into the village.
Haresh was just waking up. A man carried buckets of water from the well. A mother swept her doorstep while humming a soft tune. Children chased each other around the bakery, their laughter echoing through the street.
They weren't NPCs.
Sylas slowed his pace, watching them.
That girl scraping carrots by her porch had freckles and was muttering to herself about the weather. That old man snoozing under a tree had worn boots, one patched with a different color of leather. Details. Imperfections.
These weren't background characters.
They were people.
He passed a stall where a woman was selling eggs. She gave him a short nod, not like an AI program registering proximity—but like someone who had a life before he showed up and would have one after.
His chest tightened.
This is real.
He found Mira near the edge of the village—an older woman with gray hair tied back, wearing a faded green shawl. She was trimming herbs outside her home when he approached.
"Morning," she said without looking up. "You must be the one sleeping in Garen's barn."
"Yeah, that's me," Sylas said, rubbing the back of his neck. "He mentioned you might have a shed that needs fixing?"
Mira finally glanced up, narrowing her eyes. "That old thing? It's barely standing. Floor's warped, roof leaks, and the door barely shuts."
"I don't mind," Sylas replied. "If I can fix it up, would you let me use it?"
She studied him for a moment. Then, to his surprise, she nodded.
"You do the work. You keep it. I've got no use for it."
[New Quest: "First Home"]
Description: Repair Mira's old shed to make it livable.
Objective:
•Clean the inside
•Fix the roof
•Patch the floor
Reward: Permanent Shelter, +5 Reputation (Village)
Status: In Progress
The shed sat just behind Mira's garden, half-buried under ivy and moss. It was smaller than he expected—more like a storage shack—but it had walls, a roof (barely), and potential.
He pushed open the crooked door. Dust exploded in the air. Cobwebs hung from the rafters. A broken chair lay in the corner, and the floor sagged on one side.
"Well," Sylas muttered, stepping inside. "It's awful. But it's mine."
He spent the next hour clearing debris, tossing broken boards and hauling out old buckets. Sweat ran down his neck. His arms ached again.
It's just like building a base in a survival game, he told himself. One quest at a time.
But the thought didn't bring comfort anymore.
Because the cuts on his hands stung. The sweat didn't vanish with a stamina bar. And when he stubbed his toe on a crooked floorboard, it hurt like hell.
This wasn't a simulation.
This wasn't a tutorial.
This was life.
Later, while sitting outside the shed drinking water Mira brought him, Sylas stared at his hands.
He turned them over slowly. The lines. The dirt under his fingernails. The dried blood from a splinter.
Everything about this body was real.
Not like VR.
Not like a dream.
"I died," he whispered to himself.
He remembered the heart monitor flatlining. The cold stillness. The overwhelming regret.
He clenched his fists.
And now I'm here. Breathing. Moving. Starting over.
The system chimed gently in the corner of his vision.
[Progress Update: "First Home" – Cleaned: 100% | Repairs: 0%]
He took a deep breath and stood. No more pretending this was a game.
No more treating this world like it wasn't real.
If this was his second chance… he was going to build something with it.
From nothing.
From the dirt.
From the wood he chopped and the coins he earned.
Not for glory. Not for fame.
But because he finally could.