The digital confetti, luminous and silent, continued to flutter around the ethereal green screen floating inches from Tyler's face. The tiny wolf pup, cradled in his left arm, continued its soft, reedy whimpers, oblivious to the impossible spectacle unfolding before its closed eyes. Tyler, however, was far from oblivious. His breath caught in his throat, a silent, choking gasp. His world, already turned on its head by banishment, by the harsh realities of the Outlands, and by the visceral act of delivering and then ending a life, had now spun into an orbit of the utterly absurd.His mind, usually so quick to analyze terrain and calculate trajectories, was seizing. Animakinesis? System? What in the blazes… He blinked, hard, then squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head with a fervent, almost desperate hope that when he opened them again, the glowing abomination would be gone. This had to be a trick of the light, a hallucination brought on by exhaustion, grief, or perhaps, the sheer, unimaginable stress of his new, solitary existence.He opened his eyes. It was still there.
The green screen, the shimmering confetti, the stark, glowing text: "Congratulations! You have gained the Animakinesis System!"The screen, as if sensing his unresponsiveness, or perhaps merely following its programmed sequence, pulsed faintly. The text shifted, the letters dissolving and reforming with a faint, almost imperceptible electronic hum that resonated not in his ears, but directly within the cavern of his skull."—Ding!—" another soft chime echoed, and the text transformed:"Animakinesis getting no response from user... Recalibrating nomenclature. Presenting: Vidakinesis System!"Tyler stared. Vidakinesis? What is that even supposed to mean? Why is it talking to me? His mouth was dry, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt a sudden, irrational urge to physically push the thing away, to swipe it out of his vision as if it were a persistent fly.
His right hand, still stained with wolf blood, shot out, fingers splayed. He made contact with the glowing screen, but there was no resistance, no solidity. His fingers and hand passed through the digital projection as if it were mere smoke, leaving not a ripple, not a disturbance in its luminous display. It was utterly incorporeal.He recoiled, pulling his hand back as if burned, though he felt nothing. The system, still tirelessly attempting to establish communication, shifted again."—Ding!—""Vidakinesis still awaiting user acknowledgment... Attempting refined identification. Presenting: Vivokinesis System!"Tyler let out a small, choked sound, half-laugh, half-sob. Vivokinesis? Are you kidding me? What kind of cosmic joke is this? He felt a frantic, almost deranged energy bubbling within him.
This was too much. Far, far too much. He, the magical null, the boy who couldn't conjure a spark, now had some absurd, talking, floating screen claiming to be a "system" attached to him. It felt like the universe was mocking him, twisting his pain into a perverse, cosmic comedy.The green screen remained, patiently, silently awaiting his interaction, its digital confetti an irritatingly cheerful backdrop to his mounting despair. Tyler's initial shock began to crystallize into something sharper, something far more potent than mere confusion. It was rage. A cold, burning, familiar hatred, not unlike what he felt for his parents, began to simmer and boil in his gut.Then, with a final, resonant chime, the system seemed to settle.
"—Ding!—""Vivokinesis unrecognized... Final designation. Greetings, User. You have unlocked the Life System."The word, "Life System," finally registered in Tyler's reeling mind, cutting through the haze of disbelief. He looked at the screen, at the words now solidified, and a slow, deranged chuckle bubbled up from his chest. It started low, a guttural rasp, then grew, swelling into a hollow, mocking laugh that echoed eerily through the quiet forest. It was a sound devoid of mirth, steeped instead in a bitter, almost manic sorrow, laced with the thin, brittle edge of encroaching insanity. He was laughing at the sheer, agonizing irony of it all. Life? This was his life. A life of rejection, of being an outcast, of having everything taken from him. And now, a "Life System" dared to intrude?The laughter slowly died, replaced by a terrifying, silent fury. Tyler's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the tiny wolf pup, almost crushing it in his raw intensity before he consciously loosened his hold, gentling his touch instinctively.
His eyes, usually a soft brown, narrowed into slits, reflecting a pure, unadulterated hatred that was usually reserved for the image of his parents. He stared at the glowing screen, as if his furious gaze alone could incinerate it."You," Tyler snarled, his voice a low, venomous growl, hoarse from his laughter. "You dare? You absolute… thing! Where were you?" His voice rose, cracking with years of suppressed pain, the words tumbling out in a torrent of long-held resentment. "Where the hell were you seventeen years ago when I was born?! When I was being paraded before those pompous, self-righteous elders, poked and prodded like a lab rat, just because I couldn't conjure a single spark?!"He took a step forward, his free hand clenching into a fist, trembling with the force of his fury. "Where were you when my own mother and father, my own flesh and blood, called me a disgrace? A stain? Where were you when I was being scolded, mistreated, mentally abused, day in and day out, for not being able to show off a single drop of magic?!" His voice was now a raw, ragged shout, echoing off the ancient trees, startling a flock of unseen birds into flight.
"And now! Now, when I'm banished, cast out like trash, into the literal wilderness, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a dying wolf in my arms, NOW you want to come into my life?!"He bent down, his hand sweeping across the forest floor, gathering a handful of loose soil, damp leaves, and small pebbles. With a furious roar of impotent rage, he threw the dirt with all his might at the floating screen. The organic debris passed through the incorporeal projection without effect, falling harmlessly to the ground behind it. The screen, however, didn't even flicker. It remained, impervious, annoyingly placid.Then, a new line of text appeared, its digital green letters forming with a disconcerting cheerfulness that only served to fuel Tyler's ire.
— Sorry, User. I cannot leave the user until death do us part. :) —The little smiley face, so utterly out of place, so infuriatingly flippant in the face of his raw despair, was the final straw. Tyler felt a primal scream tear its way from his lungs, a sound of pure, unadulterated frustration. "You can't?!" he bellowed, his voice ragged. "Then take this!"With a savage snarl, he reached back, unslung his enchanted skateboard from his shoulder, and with a powerful, desperate surge of adrenaline, he chucked it with all his strength directly at the screen. The board, an extension of his own frustration, soared through the air, but just like the dirt, it passed clean through the digital display, clattering loudly against a nearby tree trunk before falling to the leaf-strewn ground. Even in his fury, a tiny part of his mind, the part honed by parkour, noted the familiar sensation of the board's return – the sudden, subtle weight against his palm as it rematerialized on the back of his hand, a testament to Zach's protective enchantment. He ignored it. He ignored everything but the pulsating green rectangle.Clutching the whimpering puppy wolf tightly against his chest, Tyler turned, his back to the infuriating system, and stormed away, blindly pushing through the undergrowth, his boots crushing fallen leaves and snapping twigs.
He had to get away from it, had to get away from this impossible, mocking presence.He stumbled back towards his temporary tent on the hilltop, his rage a thick, hot shroud around him. He burst inside, dropping the still-whimpering pup gently onto a makeshift bed of dried grass he'd gathered. He paced, back and forth, the confines of the tent doing little to contain the storm within him. He kept expecting the screen to follow, to pop up in front of him, but it didn't. It seemed to have stayed in the forest where he'd left it. A small, almost imperceptible sliver of relief pierced through his fury.He slumped onto the ground, running a hand through his wavy brown hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. His eyes, still blazing with residual anger, caught a flicker of light from outside the tent entrance. He looked up, and there, hovering just outside the canvas, was the accursed green screen. It hadn't stayed. It was always there. It was tied to him. The realization hit him like a physical blow.His shoulders slumped, the last vestiges of his defiance draining out of him, replaced by a hollow exhaustion. He was trapped.
Trapped with this thing that claimed to be a "Life System," a cruel jest given his past.As he watched, defeated, new text appeared on the screen, this time without the chimes or the obnoxious confetti. It was simply there, displaying information, as if it were an open book.— Name: Tyler Mage— Class: Life Mage— Level: 1— HP: 21/21— MP: 6/6 (given to you by system)— STR: 19— DEX: 33 (Wow! Your agility is exceptional!)— CON: 4 (Self-regeneration: 0.6 HP per hour. Mana restoration: 0.8 MP per hour.)— INT: 10— WIS: 3— CHA: 7— Luck: 9— Exp: 12/150— 7 Attribute Points (AP) available! Allocate as desired. Gain 3 AP per level!— Skills:— Heal (Lv1): Restore vitality to user or target. Cost: 2 MP per use.— Parkour (Lv34): Mastery of climbing, jumping, and environmental navigation. Quite the artist!Tyler stared at the stats, a jumble of numbers and words that made little sense, yet somehow resonated with a strange, undeniable truth. "Class: Life Mage." The irony was a bitter taste in his mouth. A mage, finally. But not the kind his family valued.His eyes scanned the numbers. Strength (STR) at 19. He had always been stronger than he looked, thanks to his physical training, but nothing exceptional. Dexterity (DEX) at 33. His gaze snapped to that number, and then to the parenthetical comment: "(Wow! Your agility is exceptional!)" A flicker of something akin to pride, quickly suppressed, stirred within him. This, at least, acknowledged his years of relentless training, his parkour and skateboarding.
His quick movements, his balance, his ability to react—it was all there, quantified. It was the one area where he knew he truly excelled, where he had carved out his own unique skillset far from the shadows of his family's magic. At least you got that right, you infuriating lump of pixels, he thought, a sliver of his defiance returning.Constitution (CON) at 4. Low, but then the system added: "(Self-regeneration: 0.6 HP per hour. Mana restoration: 0.8 MP per hour.)" So, he healed slowly. And mana? Mana Points? He had a small pool of it, 6/6, and it would regenerate. This was all so foreign, so… game-like.Intelligence (INT) at 10. Average. Wisdom (WIS) at 3. His brow furrowed. Wisdom? What's that even supposed to mean? Am I dumb? He'd always considered himself clever, resourceful, especially in navigating his family's subtle cruelties. Perhaps it was about life experience, not book smarts. Charisma (CHA) at 7. Low. No surprise there; years of isolation and distrust hadn't exactly cultivated a charming personality. Luck (9). Indifferent.Experience (Exp): 12/150. He had gained 12 experience points from… what? Delivering the pup? Ending the wolf's suffering? He had no idea how to gain more. And the 7 Attribute Points (AP), ready for allocation. "Gain 3 AP per level!" This implied growth, progression.Something he'd never been allowed in his old life.
Then, the skills. Heal (Lv1). He remembered reading about healing spells in Zach's library, but he'd never thought he could perform one. "Cost: 2 MP per use." And his beloved Parkour (Lv34). "Mastery of climbing, jumping, and environmental navigation. Quite the artist!" A faint, almost imperceptible warmth spread through his chest at the unexpected compliment. The system, for all its infuriating presence, saw his real skills. It acknowledged them. It didn't mock them.As he absorbed this overwhelming flood of information, another line of text materialized, clear and demanding.— First Mission: Heal 6 unique targets! Reward: 100 EXP and 2 Attribute Points.Tyler read it, and a fresh wave of something akin to despair, mixed with lingering anger, washed over him. A mission. A quest. As if his life wasn't complicated enough.
He was supposed to heal things? After he had just… He looked at the tiny wolf pup, then back at the screen. He had no desire to play this "game.""You want me to heal things?" Tyler snarled at the glowing screen, his voice low and dangerous once more. "You want missions? Stats? Levels? I want nothing to do with you! Fuck out of my sight! I'm pissed, and I don't want to see you! Ever!" He leaned forward, hunching over, glaring at the green light with every ounce of his being. He just wanted it gone. He just wanted to be left alone to figure out how to survive, on his own terms, without magical interference, without systems, without reminders of the life he was forced to leave behind.Despite his furious outburst, the screen remained, a persistent, unignorable presence just outside the tent. Tyler, his anger slowly giving way to a weary, heavy resignation, finally stood up. The wolf pup, having quieted its whimpers, was now sniffing tentatively at the dried grass. It was hungry. He was hungry. This infuriating "system" could wait. Survival, always survival.He stepped out of the tent, the green screen still hovering silently, patiently. He ignored it, his gaze fixed on the dense undergrowth nearby. He remembered the wild berries he'd seen growing earlier, small clusters of dark, ripe fruit hidden beneath broad leaves. He carefully approached, checking for thorns or signs of animal activity, then began to pluck the berries, dropping them into a spare, small leather pouch Zach had provided. He had no idea if they were edible, but they looked similar to some edible ones he'd seen in old botanical illustrations. He decided to risk it.Back inside the tent, with the pup watching him with wide, trusting eyes, Tyler took out a small, tin cup and a piece of thin, tightly woven cloth from his carriage. He placed a handful of the collected berries into the cup, then, using the blunt end of his pruning knife, began to gently mush them into a juice. It was a messy process, the dark red pulp staining his fingers, but he worked with a focused intensity. Once crushed, he carefully poured the pulpy mixture into the cloth, holding it over another, slightly larger bowl. With slow, deliberate movements, he squeezed the cloth, straining out any seeds or tough fibers, until a small pool of dark, purplish juice collected in the bowl.
It wasn't much, but it was liquid, and it was food.He knelt before the whimpering puppy. It looked so fragile, so vulnerable, so utterly dependent on him. A strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in Tyler's chest. He remembered the mother wolf's piteous whimper, her final desperate struggle. He had given her mercy. He would give this pup life.He lowered the bowl to the ground. The pup, its tiny nose twitching, immediately began to lap at the juice, its pink tongue darting in and out, making soft, eager slurping sounds. Tyler watched it, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.He reached out a finger, gently, hesitantly, and began to pet the wolf's head as it drank. The pup, utterly absorbed in its meal, nudged into his touch, its tiny body warm against his finger. Tyler sighed, a deep, tired breath, but this time, it was a sigh of unexpected contentment. "I'll name you Grizzy," he murmured, the name coming to him naturally, almost effortlessly. "
You little pup." Grizzy. A strong, wild name for a creature born in the wilderness.With Grizzy fed and seemingly content, Tyler turned his attention to himself. He found some harder, drier berries in his pouch and a piece of dried meat from his rations. He made himself a small, solitary snack, chewing slowly, savoring the simple flavors. The green screen still hovered outside, a silent, ever-present sentinel, but Tyler consciously chose to ignore it. He focused instead on the soft lapping sounds of Grizzy, the gentle rustle of leaves outside the tent, the distant murmur of the ocean. He focused on the ambience of his new home and lifestyle, the raw, unrefined sounds of survival in the wilderness. It wasn't the life he had known, or the life his family wanted for him. But it was his life. And for now, that was enough. He would deal with the infuriating "Life System" later. For now, there was a pup to raise, and a world to survive.