The system window hovered in front of him, faint and persistent, like a ghost that refused to leave. No matter how many times Haise waved his hand through it, it stayed right there, taunting him with its pale glow.
He sighed, the sound scraping out of his throat as he dragged his feet across the cold stone floor of the cave. Small pebbles scattered under his shoes with each step, crunching in the silence. His fingers twitched, still fumbling with the floating window that drifted along as if it was tethered to him.
Tapping the edges didn't do much. Every time he touched a tab, the same message flickered in place.
[Level Up to Unlock]
Over and over. No more text, no flashy abilities, no fancy tricks. Just that phrase, like a locked door, and no key in sight.
"Yeah, alright, real helpful," he muttered, dragging his palm down his face. His skin felt real enough. The ache in his legs, the rough scrape on his palm from where he'd caught himself earlier, all of it felt solid. Not a dream.
His gaze drifted back to the one tab that was open. The only one the system seemed to want him to see.
[Phase 1]
It displayed a strange collection of stats.
Strength: E
Ability Power: E
Speed: E
Combat Intelligence: E
Intelligence: E
Endurance: E
He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck. "What the hell does this even mean?"
It wasn't the only set, either. There was another panel sitting quietly next to it. Almost like a mirror, but not quite.
[STATUS]
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Endurance: 1
MP: 0
HP: 10/10
Special Mark: ???
[Expand]
Why the separation? Why two systems?
His thumb tapped the empty air between the panels, dragging one over the other, trying to link them somehow. Nothing changed.
Was this some kind of purgatory? A halfway point between life and death? Or was this all just some dying hallucination stitched together by a brain desperate to make sense of the void?
He shook his head. He'd never put much faith in reincarnation. Never thought there'd be something waiting for him after the end. Yet, here he was. Awake. Moving. And not in a hospital bed.
The thought pressed against his ribs, uncomfortable.
His gaze flicked toward the fractured ceiling, where thin beams of sunlight broke through the cracks, spilling faint warmth into the otherwise cold cavern.
Getting out seemed like a good idea. He had no map, no guide, no clue where he was, but sitting around wasn't going to hand him any answers.
Still, climbing? The rocks didn't look stable. Loose debris clung to the edges, threatening to crumble the moment he grabbed on.
His lip curled. "Yeah, sure, sounds dangerous," he muttered, already pulling himself toward the nearest foothold. "Fuck it."
His fingers closed around a jagged stone, the rough edges biting into his palm as he pulled himself up. His shoes scraped against the wall, searching for grip that didn't want to be found. Pebbles skittered beneath his foot, plummeting into the shadows below.
His heart kicked against his ribs. For a second, he froze, clinging to the rock as his weight shifted, the whole surface groaning under him. His pulse thundered in his ears.
"Shit-"
The stone slipped.
His foot shot out, scrambling for another hold, his hands burning as they strained to keep him from falling. His knee slammed into the wall, sending a dull throb up his thigh.
"Don't fall, don't fall, don't-"
He caught a ledge with his free hand, the jolt nearly pulling his shoulder out of its socket. He clung there, teeth gritted, sweat stinging his eyes.
For a long breath, he just hung there, chest rising and falling in sharp bursts.
"Smooth," he mumbled, dragging himself up inch by inch until his elbows hooked over the edge. He hauled his weight over, collapsing onto the rough ground above with a sharp gasp.
The sunlight felt harsher here, leaking through the trees that stretched overhead, their leaves filtering the brightness into patches. The air smelled of damp moss, fresh bark, and something faintly sweet riding on the breeze.
A forest.
His breathing steadied as he sat up, brushing dirt from his sleeves. It wasn't a city. Not even close. No buildings, no cars, no buzzing of power lines. Just trees. Endless, layered trees that stretched as far as he could see.
"So it's not home," he said under his breath.
His hand drifted over the system window, still hovering patiently nearby. It hadn't changed. The same stats. The same locked tabs.
Was this a new world? Some twisted second chance?
Or was he still dying somewhere, his brain just dragging out the last flickers of life into this elaborate mess?
A voice snapped through the trees.
"Hey! You there!"
Haise's head jerked toward the sound, his heart ramming straight into his throat, beating so hard he thought it might tear through skin and bone.
"Don't move!" The voice came again, sharper, the edges cutting clean through the brittle silence.
There was movement. The rustle of leaves. Footsteps, slow, pressing down on the damp forest floor. The crunch of twigs, the scrape of boots against roots slick with moss.
He should run. His whole body screamed it, heat coiling in his legs, but he didn't. He couldn't. The trees closed in from every side, too many shadows, too many unknowns. His hands hovered in the air, caught in the awkward space between defense and surrender. It didn't feel like enough of either.
Something flickered. A shift in the branches.
Then the sharp glint of metal.
His breath snagged and wouldn't come loose. His ribs tightened as if something had wrapped around them.
An arrow.
The tip gleamed, held steady, not the faintest tremble betraying the one who aimed it. Whoever they were, they knew this weapon like they knew their own heartbeat.
"Who are you?" the voice demanded. It was closer now, the distance thinning into nothing, the weight behind the question firm, not the hesitant quiver he expected.
Haise's lips parted, but no sound came. His throat was dry, the words stuck, clumped like wet sand too heavy to lift.
The bowstring creaked softly, stretched near its breaking point, a quiet warning the wind refused to carry away.
His pulse slammed harder, thudding against his ribs, beating out a rhythm that didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore. His thoughts scattered, slipping between panic and the fragile thread of what he should say.
If he said the wrong thing, that arrow would find him. If he said nothing, it might still.
His voice finally scraped its way up, raw and uncertain.
"I... I'm no one. Just passing through."
The words barely reached the space between them. They sounded thin, like a lie, even though it wasn't.
Silence.