The last thing James saw before the darkness claimed him was light.
A faint, pulsing glow near the goblin's corpse, small, stone-like, unreal. Even as his vision blurred and his body collapsed inward, his mind clung to that glow instinctively.
Rune.
Then his eyes closed.
—
James dreamed.
He was small again.
The world felt too big, voices too loud, faces too close. He stood in a familiar hallway with peeling paint and worn floors, the orphanage. Children ran past him, laughing, shouting each other's names with ease that felt foreign.
James stood still.
He wanted to join them.
He always did.
He opened his mouth, rehearsed words in his head—Can I play too?—but when he tried to speak, his throat tightened. His chest squeezed. The words died before reaching air.
The other children didn't notice.
They rarely did.
Days passed in the dream like pages turning too fast. James sat alone at tables, watched groups form without him. When someone spoke to him, he nodded too much, answered too little, said the wrong things at the wrong time.
Why are you so quiet?
Why are you weird?
The dream shifted.
Junior high.
New uniforms. New rules. Same loneliness.
This time, people noticed him, not with kindness, but with cruelty. Whispers turned into laughter. Laughter turned into shoves. He learned how to keep his head down, how to disappear even while standing in plain sight.
Teachers looked away.
He tried harder.
It only made things worse.
Another shift.
A part-time job.
Long hours. Low pay. Freedom bought with exhaustion.
The day he left the orphanage, no one stopped him. No one asked if he was ready. He learned how to cook cheap meals, how to work through sickness, how to lie on the floor at night when fever made his head spin—because there was no one else to take care of him.
He survived.
Alone.
Then the dream darkened.
A memory he tried not to remember.
An adult's voice. Too gentle. Too close. Praise that felt wrong. Hands that lingered too long.
James was small. Confused. Afraid.
He didn't understand what was happening—only that it made his stomach twist and his skin crawl. When it ended, he sat alone, shaking, staring at a wall that did not judge or help.
He told no one.
There was no one to tell.
No one who would believe him.
No one who would protect him.
No one who would comfort him.
No one except himself.
The loneliness deepened into something heavier.
The dream jumped again.
College.
A small dorm room. Night. Silence pressing in from all sides.
James sat on the bed, staring at his hands, thinking the same thought over and over.
I'm tired.
Not sleepy.
Tired of existing.
Tired of carrying everything alone.
The memory blurred—but the feeling remained. The edge of despair sharp enough to cut, the quiet moment when he almost let go.
Then-
A sound.
A sharp, wet gasp.
James jolted awake.
—
Pain slammed into him.
His lungs burned as he sucked in air. His body screamed in protest as awareness returned. He was on the floor of his apartment, cold tiles beneath him, blood dried and fresh smeared across the ground.
The dagger lay beside him.
Pulled out.
His wound—still there, still painful—but no longer bleeding.
James stared in disbelief, trembling fingers pressing against his abdomen.
"…I'm alive," he whispered.
Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself upright. His head spun, vision narrowing, but he stayed conscious. That was when he remembered.
The glow.
He turned.
The goblin's corpse lay where it had fallen, stiff and ugly—and beside it, several small stones glimmered faintly. Runes. Each etched with strange symbols, dull gray, colorless yet humming with potential.
James dragged himself closer.
His fingers closed around one.
A window appeared instantly.
Absorb Rune?
[Yes] [No]
"Yes," James said hoarsely.
The rune dissolved into light, sinking into his body with a gentle warmth that spread through his veins.
He didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes. Yes."
One by one, he absorbed them all. Each time, the same warmth, the same subtle sense of something settling inside him.
"…Status," James commanded.
The window appeared.
---
STATUS
Strength: 1
Agility: 1
Defense: 1
Health: 1
Resistance: 1
Luck: 1
Mana: 1
Sense: 1
Unallocated Stat Points: 8
---
He put one point into every each, and the other one to luck.
---
STATUS
Strength: 2
Agility: 2
Defense: 2
Health: 2
Resistance: 2
Luck: 3
Mana: 2
Senses: 2
Unallocated Stat Points: 0
---
James blinked.
"…That's it?"
Only eight points.
Still, he felt different. Not stronger in any dramatic way, but steadier. Sharper.
That was when pain exploded in his back.
A blade pierced flesh.
James screamed.
He stumbled forward instinctively, tearing himself free as blood sprayed onto the floor. He turned, knife already in his hand—
And froze.
Five goblins stood behind him.
Watching.
Their yellow eyes gleamed with cruel patience.
They had been there.
Waiting.
One of them licked its dagger.
James's breath came ragged as he backed away, blood dripping down his spine.
"…So you were never alone," he whispered.
The goblins smiled.