The world was ending, and Kael was staring at a rejection letter.
Not from the heavens, but from his landlord. The red-stamped "FINAL NOTICE" on the eviction letter was more terrifying to him than any distant news report about strange atmospheric phenomena. His tiny apartment, smelling of stale coffee and instant noodles, was his last bastion against a world that had long since decided he was a failure.
On his monitor, lines of buggy code for a game that would never be finished mocked him. Project Chimera. His magnum opus. His one last shot. A failure, just like the half-dozen projects before it. At 24, Kael was a washed-up game developer with a mountain of debt and the crushing weight of his own mediocrity.
He was about to slam his laptop shut when the screen flickered. Not the usual flicker of a dying graphics card, but a sudden, violent shift. The lines of code vanished, replaced by a brilliant, celestial blue that filled the room with an ethereal glow.
It was the Blue Screen of Death. But not one he recognized from any operating system.
In the center of the screen, stark white text began to type itself out, with no cursor, no sound, just silent, absolute authority.
[Celestial System Integration Initiated.] [Planetary Assimilation: 98% Complete.] [Commencing Ascension Protocol for All Eligible Lifeforms.]
[Do you accept?]
[Y/N]
Kael stared, his mind struggling to parse the information. Was this a hack? A prank? Some kind of elaborate ARG? He glanced out his window. Across the street, the massive digital billboard on the side of a skyscraper, which usually advertised soft drinks, now displayed the exact same blue screen. Every phone in every hand of the people on the street below did the same.
Then came the screams.
A cacophony of car horns, panicked shouts, and a sound that didn't belong—a deep, guttural roar that vibrated through the concrete of his building.
His heart hammered against his ribs. This was real. Whatever it was, it was real.
[Acceptance is recommended for optimal survival.] [A choice must be made. Non-participation is not an option.]
[Y/N]
Survival. That word cut through his panic. He looked at the eviction notice, at his failed code, at his empty noodle cup. What did he have to lose? A life he already hated? With a trembling finger, driven by a morbid sense of finality, Kael clicked 'Y'.
The screen flashed.
[Welcome, User #7,341,992,108.] [Analyzing Soul Matrix and Physical Compatibility...] [Assigning Class...] [...] [#%ERR0R!&@#$!_SYNTAX_INVALID] [Compatibility mismatch. Forcibly assigning nearest viable designation.]
The text glitched and warped, a mess of symbols and corrupted data flashing before his eyes. Finally, it settled on two lines.
Class: [Undefined Error] Skill Unlocked: [Code Perception]
Before he could even question what "Undefined Error" meant, a wave of nausea hit him. The world warped, the solid reality of his apartment dissolving not into blackness, but into something else entirely.
For a split second, he didn't see a wall, a desk, or a chair. He saw lines. Millions of shimmering, green and white lines of text, defining everything around him.
He blinked hard, and reality snapped back into focus. But something had changed. When he looked at his empty noodle cup, a small, semi-transparent box of text hovered over it.
// Object: Disposable Noodle Cup // String_ID: Cup_Ramen_SpicyBeef // Int: Durability=1/100 // Status: Empty, Trash
He whipped his head around, looking at the flimsy wooden door to his apartment.
// Object: Interior Door // String_ID: Door_Apt_7B // Int: Durability=35/100 // Bool: Locked=True
He couldn't see his own stats. He couldn't see a health bar or a mana pool like in the games he designed. He just saw the base code of the world around him. A bug, a developer's backdoor view into the source code of reality.
Another roar echoed from outside, closer this time, followed by the sound of shattering glass.
The absurdity of it all almost made him laugh. The universe had turned into a game, and the failed game developer was the only one who got a bugged copy.
But then, a single, terrifying thought cut through everything else, cold and sharp.
Lily.
His sister. She was at her university library across town.
His legs moved before his mind did, his hand reaching for the doorknob. The data floated before his eyes: Bool: Locked=True. He had no key, no power, nothing but a broken class and a skill he didn't understand. But in that moment, none of it mattered. He had to get to her. Now.