"Boy— you better be up, or else!"
The voice thundered through the thin walls of the cupboard. Harry's eyes snapped open, heart pounding. The memory of the blocky world lingered — the colors, the sound of breaking stone, the cool weight of iron in his hand. It had all felt so real. Too real.
He blinked at the darkness above him. The wooden boards of the cupboard were the same as ever, and the smell of dust and mildew hung thick in the air. But something was different. His body felt… lighter. Stronger. His mind, sharper.
The cupboard door swung open with a creak. Vernon's shadow loomed large in the doorway.
"Get up. Your aunt wants breakfast ready before Dudley's awake."
Harry moved automatically. Years of routine dulled his reactions, but beneath that dullness was something new — awareness. His vision felt clearer, and for a fleeting second, when he blinked, he swore he saw the faint outline of a menu tab flicker before his eyes.
He froze. Then it vanished.
Harry rubbed at his face and forced himself to stand. Must've imagined it.
In the kitchen, the smell of frying bacon filled the air. Petunia hovered nearby, arms crossed, watching him like a hawk. Harry reached for a plate — and there it was again.
A faint shimmer. A pixelated outline of the plate in his hand. His breath caught.
The plate slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.
Petunia shrieked. "You clumsy little—"
Harry turned, startled, but before he could react, something inside him stirred. A quiet hum in his head. The same calm, toneless voice from before.
"System interface detected. Combat stress threshold exceeded."
He didn't even know what that meant — but as Petunia's shouting grew louder, his heartbeat quickened. He felt cornered. Trapped. The same way he'd felt in the dark for years.
And then, something shifted. The world seemed to slow. The faint flicker of light returned — the translucent inventory box, the faint outline of iron, glowing softly in the air before him.
He didn't remember choosing it. It was simply there.
A metallic sound, the faint ring of steel against air — and then silence.
When his senses caught up, Harry was standing in the middle of the kitchen, trembling. The System hum faded away, leaving only his ragged breathing and the faint sizzle of bacon burning in the pan.
His hands shook. His mind was blank. He didn't understand what had just happened — only that everything had changed.
Then Vernon's voice boomed from the hall, louder and angrier than ever before. The sight that met him froze Harry where he stood.
Vernon's rage was pure, unthinking. He charged forward — and something inside Harry broke completely.
He didn't remember how it happened. Only that a moment later, he was outside — barefoot, heart pounding, the morning air cold against his face.
The house behind him was silent. Too silent.
Harry stumbled down the street, his breath shallow, his mind spinning. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't even care. The System hum returned briefly, a whisper in his head.
"Survival protocol active. Safe zone recommended."
He swallowed hard, tears burning behind his eyes. He didn't look back.
For the first time in his life, Harry Potter was truly free — and he had no idea what that meant.