Waking up after being eaten alive is an experience I wouldn't recommend. It's not even on the list of things I thought possible, right up there with "finding love in a monster apocalypse" or "my family acting like decent human beings." And yet, here I was, blinking at a ceiling I hadn't seen in what, days? Weeks? Was I supposed to be seeing anything at all?
My brain was foggy. For a long, agonizing second, I thought maybe this was the afterlife, and I'd been doomed to spend eternity in a place that looked suspiciously like a janitor's closet with a bed crammed into it. Then I realized: no, hell probably had better ventilation.
I sat up, slowly, half-expecting to feel a thousand gnawing bites, shredded skin, exposed ribs something dramatic and at least a little poetic. Instead, I felt… fine. My body wasn't screaming in pain. No blood, no broken bones. Not even a bruise. My arms looked the way they always had: thin, pale, and pitiful. My legs, still attached, still just as unimpressive as ever.
The room itself was tiny, barely large enough for a child's bed (which, surprise, was exactly what I had), a cracked mirror, and a collection of boxes labeled "JUNK" in angry red paint. My family's idea of subtlety had always been lacking.
A wave of nausea swept over me. Had it all been a dream? The monsters, the city in ruins, my parents voting to have me eaten? It felt too real to be a nightmare, and too awful to be anything but. My heart hammered as I swung my legs out of bed and stepped onto the cold, splintery floor.
Everything felt wrong. For one, the city should have been rubble by now. But out my tiny, dirty window, I could see rooftops intact, not burning. The sky was the usual gloomy gray, not the orange glow of fire and apocalypse. Birds chirped. Birds! They'd all flown away before the attack, the smarter ones, at least. Not even a seagull had stuck around for the grand finale.
I staggered over to the mirror and stared at myself, as if expecting to see a ghost. I almost did. My face looked… younger. My eyes, usually tired and sunken, had a little more life to them. My hair, which I'd recently hacked short in a fit of despair, now hung long and messy around my face. There was even less dignity in it, if that was possible. And most unsettling of all—no scars. No bruises. Not even a scratch from my brother's "training sessions," which was really just a fancy word for "using Arielle as a magical punching bag."
Had I gone back in time? Had the universe decided to mess with me one more time before I disappeared entirely?
Before I could contemplate the existential horror of it all, something even weirder happened.
A flicker. A shimmer in the air, right above my reflection. Then, with all the subtlety of a slap to the face, a translucent screen appeared before my eyes. I yelped because obviously, if you're not screaming at magical hallucinations, you're not really living.
The screen pulsed gently, blue light washing over my face.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING… 1%]
I blinked."What?" I whispered, backing up so quickly I tripped over my own feet and landed hard on the floor. Dust flew everywhere. My dignity died a second time.
The progress bar inched forward, mockingly slow.
[8%] [19%] [32%… 47%… 73%…]
"Oh, come on," I muttered. "Is this really necessary? If I'm being reincarnated or possessed or abducted by aliens, can we at least skip the loading screen?"
The system, clearly unamused by my plight, ticked up to 100% in a flourish.
[100%]
A pause. Then, in crisp, emotionless letters:
[Host successfully reincarnated. Welcome back, Arielle.]
I rubbed my eyes, certain I was hallucinating. When I opened them again, the screen was still there. No amount of blinking, pinching, or creative cursing would make it disappear.
A line of text scrolled across, elegant and just a little bit smug.
[Initializing system interface…]
"Right. Of course. A system. Because why not? Maybe I'll get lucky and it'll have a 'Delete Terrible Family' button."
The screen pulsed, and a new message appeared:
[Greetings, Host. I am the Supreme System version 999.9. You have been selected as my vessel, and I have, for my own mysterious and unfathomable reasons, decided to make you into the most powerful being in this miserable world.]
For a long moment, I just stared. I'd read enough fantasy scrolls okay, trashy novels left in the garbage to know what this meant. But usually, the protagonist was at least somewhat competent, or had a secret lineage, or gods forbid parents who liked them.
"Wait, wait, wait," I said, holding up my hands like the system could see me. "Let's back up. I just got killed by monsters, courtesy of my charming family and now I'm… what, alive again? With a magical voice in my head?"
[Affirmative, Host. You have been granted a second chance. I have selected you to become the strongest, the most feared, the most vengeful existence imaginable. Your pitiful excuse for a family shall regret their betrayal.]
I squinted at the screen, skepticism dripping from every syllable. "So, you're telling me you can make me strong? Like, really strong? As in, 'squash my brother like the cockroach he is' strong?"
[In time. The System operates according to a strict progression protocol. Power must be earned, skills must be learned, and vengeance ah, vengeance must be savored.]
My shoulders slumped. "So… you can't just snap your magical fingers and make me an all-powerful monster-murdering machine right now?"
[Negative. If I did, where would the fun be?]
"Well, you're useless then, aren't you?" I snapped. "I wanted to kill them immediately. You know, really drag it out. Maybe start by turning my brother into a chicken, or see how long it takes my mother to beg for mercy if I hang her over a monster pit. I have ideas, you know. Good ones."
If the system had eyes, I'm pretty sure it would be rolling them right now. Instead, it let out what I can only describe as a digital chuckle a sound somewhere between static and sarcasm.
[Your imagination is… impressive. Rest assured, Host, a future filled with retribution awaits. For now, patience. Your enemies will receive exactly what they deserve, and you will enjoy every moment.]
I huffed. "You're just saying that to keep me from uninstalling you. If I knew how, I'd try."
[Uninstallation is not permitted. Congratulations: you're stuck with me.]
For a second, the absurdity of it all overwhelmed me. One minute I'm monster chow, the next I'm chatting with the world's most passive-aggressive magical app. But then the screen flickered, and a new menu appeared.
[System Functions Unlocked:]
Status — View your basic stats. (Spoiler: They're awful.)
Inventory — See what trash you own.
Quests — Tasks for power, glory, and revenge. Side of humiliation optional.
Shop — Buy things you can't afford. Stare longingly at items until you get stronger.
Tutorial — For those who still don't get it.
I squinted. "That's it? Where's the button for 'instant muscle'? Or 'fireball in a can'? Or even just, you know, 'make me less pathetic'?"
[Host's expectations are noted. However, transformation from 'useless' to 'unstoppable' is a journey, not an instant noodle.]
I sighed, heavily. "Great. So I'm supposed to do what, exactly? Sit here and level up until I'm finally strong enough to get some payback? Because my patience is, let's just say, historically limited."
[You may begin by not dying. A revolutionary concept, I know.]
I glared at the screen. "Very funny. Alright, Supreme System, if you're so powerful, what's my first quest? Is it 'Survive a day without being called a disappointment'?"