Chapter 2: The Choice
The meadow fell silent the instant the System finished speaking. Not a gradual hush, but an absolute one, as if sound itself had been paused. Even the breeze stopped moving the grass.
Then, all at once, a thousand translucent panels bloomed into existence in front of every person, hanging in the air like sheets of liquid crystal. Each panel was identical in design, yet somehow personal. Mine floated at perfect eye level, close enough that I could see faint reflections of my own face in its surface.
CLASS SELECTION
Select your path. One choice. No resets.
Below the words, six symbols pulsed with soft, steady light.
A sword crossed with a heavy shield.
A tall staff crowned by a multifaceted crystal that caught and scattered the sapphire sky.
A longbow with a single fletched arrow laid across it.
Twin daggers, curved like predator fangs.
An open hand radiating gentle green light.
A hooded figure holding an ancient tome in one hand and a glowing lantern in the other.
No labels were needed. Everyone understood. Fighter. Mage. Ranger. Rogue. Healer. Scholar. The six pillars of every game I had ever played, every story I had ever read. Safe. Balanced. Proven.
Around me, the choosing began almost immediately.
A man in his forties, still carrying the stunned expression of someone who had been pulled from his bed, tapped the sword and shield. His linen clothes rippled and re-formed into scaled leather armor. A broadsword appeared at his hip, shield strapped across his back. He let out a shaky laugh and flexed his newly armored arms.
The girl with short black hair—Lira, I remembered from her muttered comment about her brother—reached without hesitation for the bow. Her tunic lengthened into a forest-green cloak, a recurved bow materialized in her hand, and a quiver of arrows settled against her spine. She drew the string once, testing, and a small, fierce smile touched her lips.
The teenage boy with acne scars slapped the twin daggers like he was claiming a prize. Black leather wrapped his body, hood shadowing his face. Blades flashed into existence at his belt. He spun one immediately, grinning like this was Christmas morning.
Hundreds of others followed in waves. Light flashed softly each time a choice was made. Armor clinked. Robes rustled. Weapons appeared from nothing. The meadow transformed into a gathering of adventurers straight out of concept art.
I did not move.
My hand hovered near the sword and shield, then pulled back.
Something felt wrong. Not dangerous, just… predictable. Too neat. Too much like every tutorial I had ever rushed through to get to the real game.
I glanced up. The System still hovered a few inches above the grass, silver robes unmoving, galaxy eyes calm. She watched the selections with detached serenity, but when my gaze met hers, something shifted. A flicker of attention. Curiosity, maybe.
I looked back at my panel. The six symbols glowed invitingly, arranged in a perfect hexagon.
But between them, almost hidden in the negative space, was something else.
A seventh mark. No larger than a thumbnail. A perfect circle of raw, unfiltered white light. No icon inside it. No tooltip when I focused. Just pure, empty potential.
I had seen hidden options before. Easter eggs in old games. Secret achievements. But never one this subtle.
I lifted my hand and pointed directly at it.
"What about that one?"
The question carried farther than it should have. Conversations around me faltered. Heads turned.
The teenage boy in rogue leathers barked a laugh. "Dude, there's nothing there. You glitching or just stalling?"
A few nervous chuckles followed. Most people saw only six options. To them, I was pointing at empty air.
The System descended fully this time. Her bare feet settled onto the grass with no sound at all. The meadow quieted again, thousands of eyes fixed on her.
She looked at me for a long, measuring moment.
"That," she said, voice carrying effortlessly to every ear, "is the Null Path."
A ripple of reaction spread outward. Confusion. Disbelief. A few sharp intakes of breath from those who suddenly noticed the seventh mark appear on their own panels, as if my question had unlocked its visibility.
The System continued, tone neutral but resonant.
"No class. No starting skills or attributes. No predetermined talents or growth template. You will receive nothing the system normally grants. Strength, speed, magic, knowledge—these will come only through what you do, what you endure, what you create. The system will observe and record your deeds. It will not guide you. It will not protect you."
The rogue boy snorted again. "So it's suicide mode. Hardcore permadeath with zero perks. Genius."
A woman nearby, now dressed in healer's robes, looked at me with open pity. "Why would anyone choose that?"
The System answered before I could.
"Because some refuse the shapes offered to them. They insist on forging their own."
Her ancient eyes returned to me.
"Few take this path. Fewer still survive the first moon. But those who do…" She paused, and for the first time, something like genuine interest colored her voice. "They often become variables the system itself cannot fully predict."
I felt the weight of every stare. Judgment. Amusement. Worry from Lira, who was frowning now, bow still in hand.
I thought about the old world again.
About years spent following prescribed routes: school, dead-end jobs, polite smiles for rude customers. About grinding side gigs to afford one more component for the rig that had, in the end, been my only way out. About pressing Y on a mysterious prompt because every other door had already closed.
I had accepted every box life tried to put me in.
And it had led to watching the sky turn to television static while everything I knew quietly died.
I looked at the six glowing symbols one last time. Safe paths. Strong starts. Clear progression.
Then I reached out and touched the white circle.
There was no flash. No triumphant music. No transformation.
My panel simply dissolved like mist in sunlight.
A single line of text appeared, visible only to me, hanging in the air for three heartbeats before fading:
Null Path selected.
Growth type: Deed-based.
Starting title: Blank Slate.
My clothes remained plain linen. No weapon appeared. No armor. No glowing aura.
I was exactly as I had arrived. Barefoot. Empty-handed. Unclassed.
The System regarded me for another silent moment. Then she nodded—once, slow, almost approving.
"Your journey begins without advantages," she said, words meant for me even as others heard them. "Prove you need none."
She raised both hands.
The meadow began to empty in waves. Soft bursts of pale light swallowed people whole, transporting them to wherever their classes began their stories: training grounds for warriors, arcane libraries for mages, deep forests for rangers. Lira met my eyes across the shrinking crowd. She lifted her bow in a small salute, mouthed "Good luck," and vanished.
Soon only a scattered handful remained—those who had hesitated longest, or chosen least conventionally.
The System turned as if to ascend, then paused. She drifted closer until she hovered directly in front of me. No one else seemed to notice; the remaining players were occupied with their own panels or conversations.
"One gift," she said, voice now private, resonating inside my skull alone. "A single question. Ask, and I will answer with truth."
Thousands of questions flooded my mind. What is Aetheria really? Who built you? What comes next?
But only one burned hottest.
"Why did Earth end?"
The swirling galaxies in her eyes slowed, colors dimming to somber grays.
"Because it was asked to," she said quietly. "And it obeyed."
I opened my mouth to demand more—asked by whom? why?—but she was already rising, silver robes merging with the sky. The air sealed seamlessly behind her. She was gone.
I stood alone in the vast meadow.
The perpetual golden light had not shifted, yet everything felt different. Sharper. Realer.
No map. No quest log. No tutorial prompts.
Just endless grass swaying under a sapphire sky, distant mountains, and the faint, lingering scent of pine.
Somewhere far off, that wolf howled again. Closer this time. Curious.
I took a slow breath, feeling the cool air fill lungs that worked better than they ever had on Earth.
Then I turned toward the tree line where the howl had come from and started walking.
One step. Then another.
Barefoot. Unarmed. Free.
The Null Path had begun.
And whatever Aetheria threw at me, I would answer with deeds.
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