Morning in Rustvale was never quiet. Even this early, the sounds of the slums bled through Caz's thin walls — market vendors shouting about fish that had been dead since yesterday, someone's baby wailing in the apartment below, the metallic clank of a magitech tram limping past on warped rails.
Caz sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. His body felt… wrong. Not sick anymore, but different. He'd woken up sharper. Colors were richer, sounds were layered — he could pick out conversations happening in the street three floors down. His skin tingled, like static clung to it.
And under all of it… that voice.
"Basilisk Strain – Host: CAZ MERRIK."
"Mutation Progress: 4%."
The words weren't spoken. They simply appeared in his mind, as clear and solid as if he'd read them on paper.
He squeezed his eyes shut. You're losing it. Fever. Delirium.
"System functions stable. Awaiting command."
His pulse kicked up. "Get out of my head," he whispered.
No response.
He stood, pacing the cramped room. It felt smaller today — like the walls were closer. His boots thumped on the warped floorboards, and he could feel the vibration through his bones. Every step sent a ripple of awareness through him, like he was part of the space.
Then it happened.
A flicker of light — not in the room, but in his vision. A faint, ghostly panel appeared in the air, hovering an inch from his face. He swore and staggered back, but it moved with him, anchored to his sight.
[Status Menu]
Name: Caz Merrik
Level: 1
HP: 120 / 120
Stamina: 90 / 90
Skills: Basilisk Gaze Lv.1 (Passive)
Mutation Rate: 4%
At the bottom, a faint pulsing icon glowed. He focused on it, and another line appeared:
"Skill Description: Basilisk Gaze – Minor paralysis effect on weaker targets. Strength and duration scale with Stat Growth."
Caz backed away until his shoulders hit the wall.
The panel faded, replaced by the voice:
"Tutorial available. Initiate?"
He hesitated. His brain screamed to ignore it, to pretend none of this was happening — but some deeper instinct, maybe survival, told him understanding it was the only way forward.
"…Yeah. Start."
The voice shifted into a steady, mechanical rhythm, explaining concepts like it had all the time in the world:
"You possess a unique system interface. No other human in this world is recorded as having it.
Stats reflect physical, mental, and strain-derived attributes.
Skills are abilities derived from the Basilisk mutation.
Quests are issued to promote growth. Refusal results in stagnation — and eventual termination."
That last word landed heavy. "Termination?"
"Host death."
Caz's jaw tightened. "So I'm a lab rat."
"You are the only rat."
A list of commands scrolled through his vision — things like Inventory, Quest Log, Skill Tree. He tested them with a thought, and each one unfolded into ghostly displays. The Inventory was empty except for a faint outline of his jacket and the worn pocket knife he kept in his boot.
But the Quest Log wasn't empty.
[Quest: Initial Blood]
Objective: "Eliminate a hostile entity threatening your life."
Reward: +2 Stat Points
Failure: Death
The timer underneath ticked down from 23:59:59.
Caz stared at it. "Hostile entity?"
"Any threat with intent to harm. You will know."
A soft knock came at the door.
Tessa's voice. "You skipping breakfast?"
"I'm fine," Caz said quickly. "Go ahead without me."
She didn't answer right away. He could hear the shift of her weight as she lingered, then the faint creak of the floorboards as she walked away.
Caz sat there for a long time, staring at the invisible timer. By the time he left his room, the day had already moved on without him — but somewhere, the system was counting down to his first kill.