> "Would you like to proceed to the Upgrade Tutorial?"
Ethan scanned the three glowing starter packs hovering midair.
> Starter Kit 01: Boneforged Pack
Starter Kit 02: Abyss Ore Pack
Starter Kit 03: Corehunter Pack
His eyes danced from one to the next, lips pursed in thought—then his grin widened, feral and sharp.
"Ooh, edgy bones… juicy monster guts…" he leaned in closer, then jabbed a finger at the second choice. "But this one? This one's got that villain arc flavor."
He slapped the Abyss Ore Pack icon like he was picking a character in a fighting game.
"Let's go, baby. Tactical. Sleek. Sexy. I pick Shadow Doom Metal Pack Deluxe—aka the Abyss Ore Pack!"
> "Selection confirmed."
A low, rumbling chime echoed around him.
A circle of glowing sigils flared to life nearby on the white floor, spinning like gears. Then—whirrrr—a dark crate began forming from fragments of blue light and pixelated ash, assembling itself piece by piece with mechanical precision.
Steam hissed as it locked into place, runes glowing faintly on its edges.
Ethan raised his brows and whistled. "Now that's a loot box."
The crate hissed open. Inside, lined up like high-end weapon candy:
10 Chunks of Blackvein Ore – dense, glimmering slabs that practically radiated weight.
3 Bars of Shadowsteel – sleek metal bars so dark they seemed to drink the light around them.
2 Veinshard Lenses – eerie, prismatic crystals pulsing softly like they had a heartbeat.
Ethan reached in and plucked one of the Shadowsteel bars, turning it in his hand.
"Solid. Smooth. Probably cursed," he muttered. "Perfect."
He tossed it up, caught it with a grin, then closed the crate with a loud thunk.
> "Abyss Ore Pack acquired. Materials eligible for weapon evolution. Note: Upgrades require manual ritual interface."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "No shiny button to click, huh? Of course not."
He hoisted the crate onto his shoulder like it weighed nothing and turned toward the system panels still hovering in the distance.
"Alright, System. I've got my box of space metal and horror crystals—now show me how to turn this axe into a war crime."
> "Initializing Manual Upgrade Tutorial…"
From above, a black parchment scroll descended—eerie, humming with faint blue light. Ethan caught it as it fell gently into his hand.
The texture was strange—like scorched silk and old ash. Symbols were etched deep into its surface, glowing faintly.
> "Due to World No.34's instability, this system will not persist beyond transfer. Manual upgrades are required."
> "This is a rare-grade parchment: single-use, evolution-capable medium. Use with care."
> "See the ritual circle and triangle. Place your weapon at the center. Place Catalyst at the top, Modifier on the left, and Stabilizer on the right."
Ethan whistled low. "One-time use, huh?" He looked at the scroll, then his cleaver. "Better make it count."
He knelt and rolled the parchment flat across the glowing white floor. Instantly, its dormant runes shimmered to life.
From his Abyss Ore Pack, he laid the materials with care:
Top — Catalyst: Ten Chunks of Blackvein Ore, dense and throbbing with hidden energy.
Left — Modifier: Three bars of Shadowsteel, black and silent.
Right — Stabilizer: Two Veinshard Lens, crystal-clear and pulsing faintly.
Finally, he placed the crude cleaver-axe in the center. It landed with a heavy clunk.
The parchment pulsed once. Symbols brightened.
Ethan stepped back, hands on hips, grinning. "Alright, magic scroll. Show me what you got."
Light flared.
Then—sputtered.
And died.
The parchment dimmed. The materials just sat there.
"…Seriously?" Ethan blinked, dumbfounded.
> "Analyzing…"
> "Upgrade failed. Cause: Host level insufficient. Weapon evolution restricted until Level +10."
He groaned. "You mean to tell me I just wasted my one golden ticket because I'm too low-level?"
> "Correct. Parchment consumed."
"…What."
> "Rare parchments are single-use and do not refund materials."
Ethan's face twisted. "You mean I burned a rare scroll and premium materials... for nothing?"
Then—everything shook.
A glitch trembled through the white void. The parchment sparked—violently. The glowing circle reignited, runes mutating with unfamiliar symbols.
> "WARNING. Unknown force detected. Attempting to hijack ritual."
> "ERROR. ERROR. System override in progress—"
The room split open.
Cracks burst across the air like fractured glass. Light flooded through the fractures, but it wasn't warm. It was deep and cold and cosmic.
Ethan staggered back, shielding his eyes. "Okay—this definitely isn't part of the tutorial!"
The parchment ignited, burning in blue-black fire. The Blackvein Ore liquefied, dragging itself toward the axe-cleaver. The Shadowsteel and Lens followed, dissolving into thin lines of light that wrapped around the weapon like chains.
The cleaver trembled. Shifted. Howled.
Then—BOOM.
A pulse knocked Ethan off his feet.
When he sat up again, his weapon had changed.
Evolving from the fusion of Blackvein Ore, Shadowsteel, and Veinshard Lenses, the once crude cleaver had become something far more terrifying.
The Abyss Splitter, a weapon born of pressure and darkness. Its body was rough like volcanic glass, streaked with glowing blue veins that pulsed with each heartbeat. The edge had been reforged into jagged steel, serrated not by design but by violent nature.
The Abyss Splitter didn't shine.
It didn't gleam with magic.
It simply looked heavy. Dangerous. Raw.
> Weapon Evolution: Forced Success
Name: Abyss Splitter
Type: Cleaver-Axe Hybrid
Grade: Rare+
Class-Locked: Brutecarver
Core Trait: Unrefined Power
> "Alert: Unauthorized evolution event recorded."
> "Entity unknown. Power immeasurable. Monitoring suspended."
The ritual parchment was gone—reduced to a black smear of ash in a perfect triangle on the floor.
The system hummed quietly, its panels beginning to dim—SGPT100's presence retreating like a tide preparing to roll back.
> "Notice: Host will be disconnected from System Support once entry into World No.34 is initiated. Autonomous functions now delegated."
Ethan stared.
He glanced toward the floating weapon beside him—the freshly evolved Abyss Splitter pulsing faintly with blue veins and still steaming from its rebirth.
Then at the scorch mark.
Then back to the blade.
"…Okay. Definitely not normal."
> "No further direct input from SGPT100 will be available beyond this point."
"Beginning final scan…"
The weapon hovered mid-air, then suddenly surged with light. Runes flickered along its edge. A low mechanical chime resonated as the interface spun one last time, analyzing the weapon's core, its materials, and Ethan himself.
> "Skill: scanning on process…"
"Matching host profile… Sync rate: 99.6%…"
The system's voice was calm, final.
> "Skill confirmed: GRA—."
Ethan didn't wait for the words.
His hand reached for the hilt—instinctive, natural—and the moment his fingers gripped the handle, something clicked deep in his mind.
Images surged behind his eyes. He saw the ground cracking beneath a single swing, enemies pulled helplessly toward him. He felt the rhythm of the motion, the weight before impact, the compression of air. It wasn't just a skill.
It was already muscle memory.
He blinked, grinned, and gave the axe-cleaver an easy spin onto his shoulder.
"...Gravity Carve, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "I didn't even need the pop-up to tell me."
He felt it in his bones—the weapon had taught him.