Klein turned another page, the words on the paper swirling with melodrama and unlikely heroics. He snorted quietly, a rare smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"'And with a single swing of the blade, the Demon King fell...'" he read aloud, shaking his head. "Right. If only things were that simple."
His chuckle echoed in the small room, dispelling some of the day's exhaustion. Fantasy novels always made it look so easy—courage, destiny, power. In real life, even the smallest change felt like trying to move a mountain.
Outside, a flash of light caught his attention. He glanced up, frowning at the window. The sky, which had been moody all evening, now roiled with a strange, unnatural energy. Clouds churned and thickened, turning an eerie shade of purple. Klein walked over and pulled the window shut, the glass rattling against an unexpected wind.
A chill ran down his spine. He stared at the sky for a long moment, trying to convince himself it was just a storm. But the air felt wrong—heavy, electric, as if the city itself was holding its breath. The lights from the buildings across the street flickered, and for a second, the world seemed to pause.
He stepped away, rubbing his arms. "Weird weather," he muttered, willing himself to ignore the creeping unease. He set the book aside and returned to his chair, reaching for his phone—maybe a few mindless videos would settle his nerves.
But before his fingers touched the screen, the air in front of him shimmered, twisting and folding like a heat haze. A circle of violet light blossomed in the middle of his living room, and then, as if someone had drawn back a curtain, a translucent screen materialized right before his eyes.
Klein froze. His heart thudded painfully in his chest.
"What the—?"
The interface was unmistakably digital, glowing with an otherworldly purple hue. Lines of text scrolled across the surface, crisp and bright, as if projected straight into his mind.
Welcome, Host.
This is the Absolute Avatar Cloning System.
Initializing...
Klein gaped, unable to move. The fantasy novels he loved so much—he'd seen this a hundred times in those pages, but to have it happen in his own apartment? He reached out, half-expecting his hand to pass through the image, but the screen remained, unyielding and perfectly real.
Before he could process what was happening, new data flickered onto the interface:
[System Status]
Name: Klein Lee
Race: Human
Age: 24
Ability: Clone Creation (Lv. 1)
Physical Strength: 9
Mental Strength: 13
Vitality: 10
Unique Trait: Absolute Loyalty (Clones)
Klein's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the numbers, the words, desperately searching for some logical explanation.
"This... This is a joke, right?" His voice sounded thin in the silence.
The system responded, the words crisp and impersonal:
Host has awakened the Absolute Avatar Cloning System.
Please remain calm.
Further instructions will follow shortly.
He stumbled back, nearly knocking over his chair. The system's purple glow threw strange shadows across the walls, making his cramped apartment feel suddenly alien and dangerous.
He pressed his fists to his temples, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, no, no... I'm just tired. This is a dream. Or a prank." He opened his eyes, but the interface remained, unwavering.
He forced himself to read the information again. Name, age, race—everything was accurate. But the ability, "Clone Creation," was straight out of the web novels he'd been mocking moments before.
A nervous laugh escaped him, brittle and high. "Okay. Okay, Klein. Maybe you fell asleep with the book open. Maybe you're still at work, dozing off at your desk. Any second now, someone will nudge you, and you'll wake up."
But nothing changed. The system's purple glow pulsed gently, almost reassuringly.
Host's initial shock detected.
Please take a moment to acclimate.
He swallowed hard, palms sweating. His mind raced through every possibility—hallucination, elaborate prank, new advertising technology—none of them made sense. The stats, the interface, the clinical way it all addressed him... it felt too real.
He backed up against the wall, breathing fast. "Calm down. Calm down," he whispered, more to himself than the system. "It's just a screen. Just some... new technology. It can't be real."
But outside, the sky continued to churn, and the city's lights flickered and died, one by one. His phone buzzed with emergency alerts he couldn't bring himself to check.
Klein stared at the glowing system window, the reflection of his own shocked face staring back at him.
And as the first monstrous roar echoed from somewhere in the city below, he realized—whatever this was, it was only the beginning.