Despite the pain running through his body, he held the pickaxe tightly. He didn't even know who he was — only that something deep inside him refused to submit and his heart was burning with anger.
As he raised the pickaxe, ready to throw it aside in refusal.
But then… a whisper.
It wasn't loud. It was soft, sly, like the quiet step of a clever fox slipping through the dark.
"Let go of pride… first, assess the situation."
"Assess… assess…"
The word kept echoing in his head. It was his own voice, not some stranger's soul or spirit controlling him.
Even without his memories, his own mind — his own nature — was guiding him, warning him not to act rashly.
"Do not throw it away. Blend in. Watch first, strike later."
Pride urged him to fight back, but something smarter inside was telling him to wait. To endure. To learn where he was, who held the power, and why he had been thrown into this pit.
He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the pickaxe. Slowly, he breathed in and out, his eyes closing as he forced his mind to relax.
The noise of the pit was fading away. His head, which had been throbbing with pain and confusion, now felt still… calm, like water in a pond with no ripple, quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Inside this calm darkness, something appeared. A faint light — white and soft, like silver, glowing weakly — was trying to push through the black void of his mind.
The light grew stronger. It shifted, turning red, shaping itself into a glowing rectangle — like a strange window floating before his eyes.
[ Soul System Activated ]
[ Displaying stats... ]
[ Level: 1 ]
[ Class: None ]
[ Pick your Initial Class ]
Suddenly, it was as if his body disappeared from pit. He stood alone in a space covered in darkness where only he could be seen. In front of him, the red screen floated, showing his level and that no class was chosen yet.
Then, more glowing screens appeared around him, circling slowly in the air. Each was showing a class — a name, a small image, and a short description.
His eyes widened in shock.
"What… what is this?" he muttered inside his own head, but the words never reached his ears.
"Hello? Hello!" he shouted, but no sound came out.
It felt like screaming into a vacuum — his lips were moving, his throat was working, yet no voice left his mouth. Only the echo of his own words bounced back inside his skull, loud and hollow.
Panic gripped him. "Where am I? What is happening to me?" He looked around, but there was nothing — only darkness and the glowing red screen floating in front of him.
No one answered.
In the real world, his body was still standing frozen in the dark tunnel, both hands still gripping the pickaxe. His eyes were closed tight, unmoving, like a lifeless shell.
He tried everything to wake up, to break free from this strange space — shaking his head, forcing his eyes open, even willing his body to move.
But no matter what he did, nothing worked. Each time he thought he was about to escape, a sharp ding echoed inside his skull and the same cold words appeared in front of him:
[ Please select your class. ]
The sound kept repeating, relentless, like a drop of water falling on stone. It drove him into despair.
His breathing was growing heavy. "Damn it…" He clenched his fists, looking around the endless darkness. There was no door, no voice, no way out. Only that glowing red interface floating silently in front of him.
Then came the whisper again. The same calm, cunning voice, like a fox smiling inside his chest:
"Choose… choose… choose a class."
It was his own voice, echoing back at him, but colder, sharper. Guiding him.
"I think… I don't have a choice,"
"I need to pick one… whatever this thing is."
He gritted his teeth and stared at the screen. One by one, glowing words floated around him:
[ Assassin ]
[ Ranger ]
[ Fighter ]
[ Sorcerer ]
[ Rogue ]
[ Cleric ]
[ Illusionist ]
… and many more, circling him like stars in the night.
He narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.
If he really had no choice, then he had to pick carefully. Slowly, he began reading the descriptions, trying to understand what each one meant, searching for the class that would fit him best.
He looked at the glowing screen and, with a deep breath, began reading:
[ Assassin ] — Move in the dark. One strike. One kill. Silent but deadly.
Pros: Deadly at close range, fast, perfect for surprise attacks.
Cons: Weak if spotted, low defense, no room for mistakes.
"Hm… dangerous. You die if you're careless."
[ Ranger ] — Eyes of a hawk. Arrows never miss. Strike from far, never be caught.
Pros: Fight from a distance, good vision, always aware of enemies.
Cons: Weak in close combat, needs space to fight, easy to corner.
"Safe… but feels lonely. Always running, always hiding."