"Yes."
The moment the word left my mouth, the humor vanished.
My muscles simply turned off.
I didn't fall gracefully. I collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, my face slamming into the carpet. I tried to push myself up, tried to twitch a finger, but my body was dead weight. Panic flared in my chest.
"What the hell?" I wheezed, my face pressed against the floor fibers.
A mechanical, genderless voice echoed directly inside my skull.
[Alert: Due to the complexity of the source material, simply absorbing the skill is impossible.]
[Mission Initiated: You must complete a simulation scenario to obtain the Skill Tree.]
[Do you accept?]
[Yes/No]
I stared at the prompt from my frozen position on the floor. A simulation? It wanted me to actually play the game? Or live it?
I thought about where I was. High School DxD. A world where gods, devils, and dragons threw nukes at each other for fun. I had a cooking skill and a math textbook in my head. I was defenseless.
Skyrim meant magic. It meant Shouts. It meant Stealth Archery if I wanted to be a meme. It was the versatility I needed to survive.
I grit my teeth, forcing the word out through my paralyzed jaw.
"Yes."
[Quest Accepted: The Dragonborn's Trial]
[Objective: Beat the Mission Scenario.]
[Reward: Skyrim Skill Tree Unlocked.]
[Reward: 2000 EXP]
[Time Limit: 24 Hours (In-Game Time)]
Darkness swarmed the edges of my vision. The carpet, the TV, the room, it all dissolved into black.
Then, the text scrolled into view, accompanied by that same mechanical voice.
[System Notification: Compatibility Check]
"It seems that the world of Skyrim and High School DxD possess fundamentally different biological hierarchies. Allowing you to transform into a non-human species from Nirn could compromise your integration into your home reality."
A list of options appeared, half of them grayed out and crossed through with red lines.
[Available Races:]
Breton
Imperial
Nord
Redguard
[Restricted Races:]
Altmer (High Elf)
Argonian
Bosmer (Wood Elf)
Dunmer (Dark Elf)
Khajiit
Orc (Orsimer)
"Please consider your choice carefully. Selecting a conspicuous race will result in social complications upon your return."
I frowned. It made sense. If I woke up tomorrow in Kuoh Town looking like a six-foot lizard, the devils, or worse, the government, would dissect me before I finished breakfast.
But it was frustrating. The human races in Skyrim were solid, sure, but the beast races and elves had unique passive abilities that could be game-changers. Khajiit had Night Eye and stealth bonuses. Orcs had Berserker Rage, which was arguably the best tanking ability in the game.
I bit my lip, thinking. This was a system, right? A game. And games had exploits.
"Hey," I called out to the void. "I have a question."
The cursor on the screen blinked, waiting.
"The problem is the appearance, right? Not the biology itself?" I asked, my mind racing. "So, instead of picking a race to be, can I just select the racial abilities? And since I'm foregoing the stat boosts from the actual body change, could I pick two?"
Silence stretched out in the darkness. I held my breath. It was a long shot, a greedy ask.
Finally, the text shifted.
"Calculating..."
"Proposal is within acceptable parameters. You may select two racial traits to assimilate into your current human physiology. These traits will remain active in the DxD world. Do you accept this compromise?"
"Of course," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the adrenaline spiking in my chest. Gamer's Mind was doing its job, keeping me from shouting in victory.
I knew exactly what I wanted. I needed survivability and utility.
"I choose the Khajiit and Orc aspects," I said clearly. "I want the stealth and night vision of the cat, and the raw rage and endurance of the Orc. All without changing my skin or body structure."
The screen flashed a blinding gold.
"Confirmed. Integration beginning."
The sensation wasn't magical or floaty. It felt like a sledgehammer hitting my solar plexus.
WHAM.
Air left my lungs instantly. The void shattered, replaced by the smell of wet dirt and pine needles, and a sharp, throbbing pain in my ribs.
"Get up, scum!"
I gasped, eyes snapping open only to be blinded by the gray, overcast sky. Before I could process where I was, a boot slammed into my side, rolling me over into the mud.
"Ghh!" I gritted my teeth, curling into a ball instinctively to protect my head.
I cracked one eye open. Three men stood over me, dressed in familiar studded leather armor and distinctively Roman-style skirts. Imperials.
"Observe," I wheezed.
[Imperial Guard 1]
Level: 3
Job: Prison Guard
HP: 100/100
STR: 10 | VIT: 5 | DEX: 5
[Imperial Guard 2]
Level: 3
Job: Prison Guard
HP: 100/100
STR: 10 | VIT: 5 | DEX: 5
[Imperial Executioner]
Level: 5
Job: Prison Guard
HP: 120/120
STR: 13 | VIT: 8 | DEX: 10
They weren't strong, fodder enemies, really, but right now, I was Level 1, unarmed, and lying in the dirt.
"I can't believe we're taking prisoners now," Guard 1 spat, driving his toe into my ribs again. "If it were my choice, I would have killed these Stormcloak traitors where they stood!"
"Save your breath," the second guard grunted. He stepped in, aiming a kick at my spine.
I tucked my arms in tight, bracing my muscles. The impact came hard, sending a jolt of pain up my back that made my vision swim. It hurt, god, it actually hurt, but I didn't scream.
Ding.
[Skill Created: Physical Endurance (Passive) - Lv 1]
[EXP: 0%]
[Description: Your body's durability has increased. All physical damage taken is reduced by 5%.]
"Enough," a gruff voice barked.
The kicking stopped. I curled tighter, gasping for air, waiting for the next blow. It didn't come.
"You can have your fun later," the voice continued. I heard the jingle of keys and the heavy thud of a metal door being secured. "Have you heard? The scouts say they finally caught Ulfric Stormcloak near Darkwater Crossing. He'll be arriving in a few minutes. Head to the entrance and stand guard."
"And the prisoner?"
….
Don't forget to send power stones and add this to your library.