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A long, tired yawn broke the silence of a small apartment. It came from a young man who had just woken up — slowly, reluctantly. The first thing he did was check the time on his phone.
6:00 a.m.
He let out a low groan, grabbed the half-finished water bottle from his nightstand, and drank it in one go. Then he walked into the kitchen and cracked five eggs into a pan. No salt. No seasoning. Just fuel.
Once the eggs were cooking, he tapped his phone, and soft music began playing through the speaker — not loud, just enough to fill the quiet.
He scooped two cups of protein yogurt into a bowl and added a single cup of granola. Sitting at the table, he ate slowly, the music drifting around the room. No TV. No scrolling. Just the hum of the speaker and the food in his mouth.
By 6:30, the young man pulled on a plain shirt and shoved his bare feet into running shoes — no socks. Didn't care.
At 6:38, just before stepping outside, he slid in his earbuds and tapped play. Music filled his ears — not energetic, not dramatic. Just something to walk through the world with.
An hour later, he finished his jog and walk, muscles tired but mind still elsewhere.
He took a thirty-minute break, sitting quietly in his apartment, music still softly playing in his ears.
Then he moved on to weights — dumbbells ranging from fifteen to forty-five pounds. Curls. Lateral raises. Shoulder presses. Reps on autopilot. The weight session lasted about an hour and a half.
Afterward, he rested for forty-two minutes, still feeling the exhaustion settle in.
Then came bodyweight exercises: squats, push-ups, and jumping jacks. Again. Again. Again.
Not to get stronger.
Just to feel something other than empty.
He collapsed onto the couch again, exhaustion hitting him hard. Ten minutes later, he glanced at his phone — 11:00 a.m.He pushed himself up, grabbed a towel, and stripped down. The shower was lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, just enough to rinse off the sweat and dull the numbness. He stood under the steady flow for about twenty minutes, then switched the water to a biting cold rush that ran over his head for five slow, shivering minutes.
Afterward, he brushed his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror. His black hair caught the light, shimmering like moonlight. His eyes were universe-like—deep pools containing swirling galaxies and twinkling stars, vast and mysterious, as if entire constellations spun just beneath the surface. His face wasn't striking, maybe a solid seven out of ten, not bad but not remarkable. His body was lean, more "dad bod" than athletic, fit enough but far from muscular.
Finally, he crawled into bed and let sleep claim him again. Hours passed. When he woke, the clock read 2:00 p.m. He checked his phone, then reached for the controller to turn on his Xbox. Soon, he was logged into Minecraft, ready to zone out into the blocky world.
Unknown to him — and to everyone else — a strange green light appeared in the sky, pulling in countless people across the globe with an unseen force.
One second he was in his room, and the next, he was standing on a vast, sunlit beach. The sharp scent of saltwater filled the air, and the sound of crashing waves echoed around him. Confused, he looked around, trying to make sense of the sudden change.
Not far from him stood a woman. He recognized her immediately — Imane, better known as Pokimane, the famous streamer. Her eyes widened as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings, and a flicker of unease crossed her face. She swallowed hard, her usual calm replaced by cautious nervousness.
"Where… are we?" she asked quietly, glancing around before her gaze settled back on him. "How did we even get here?" Her voice was steady but carried a hint of fear, betraying her uncertainty.
She took a small step back, instinctively putting some distance between them.
He didn't know what to say — especially standing in front of someone famous. But he also knew better than to approach her or make things more uncomfortable.
So, without a word, he turned around and walked the other way, heading off to explore on his own.
Noticing him leaving, Imane hesitated for a moment, then quietly followed behind. She didn't want to be alone — not here, not in a place she didn't understand. Even if he was a stranger, it was better than nothing.
For two minutes, they walked in silence. The only sound was the soft crunch of sand beneath their feet and the distant crash of waves.
Eventually, the young man sighed and broke the quiet.
"I walked away because I didn't know what to say," he muttered, not turning back. "So why are you following me?"
Imane's voice was soft, but there was a hint of tension behind it. "Because I don't want to be alone. Especially not somewhere I don't know."
Another beat of silence.
Then she added, "What's your name?"
He kept walking but responded plainly, "Jason. Jason Universe."
She gave a small nod. "Imane."
He recognized the name — of course he did — but didn't say anything. Just nodded slightly and kept walking.
The air between them lightened, just a little. Still awkward, still uncertain, but the wall had cracked. They walked together along the beach, still keeping a little distance, but more in sync than before.
As they moved, Jason's mind wandered. Something felt… off. This place, the way they appeared out of nowhere, how real everything felt. Too real. It wasn't a dream — he was sure of that. But if it wasn't a dream… what was it?
Did I... transmigrate?
System?
Status?
He didn't speak the words aloud, but the moment he thought them, a soft chime echoed in his mind. A glowing blue screen flickered into existence in front of him, floating mid-air like a projection from nowhere.
His eyes narrowed.
[Status Screen]
Name: Jason Universe
Level: 0 (0 / 10 XP)
Population : 982,000
Jason stared at the screen. His face didn't change much — he was too tired, too numb — but inside, something cracked open. Not panic. Not even shock.
Just quiet acceptance.
So this is real.