Cass blinked hard. The blinding white dissolved into shapes, colors, sound.
Grass.
He stood ankle-deep in tall grass that swayed in the breeze. The blades brushed against his boots, cool with morning dew. A wide plain stretched to the horizon, rolling hills scattered with trees. Mountains rose in the distance, jagged spines cutting the sky. A river shone like silver as it twisted through the land.
The world breathed. Birds cut across the air in flocks. Clouds drifted slow and heavy, painting shadows across the ground. The sun was bright, but its heat was gentle—warm on his skin, not suffocating.
Cass exhaled slowly. The last breath he remembered had been ash and fire. This one tasted clean.
[System]:Welcome, Lord Cass. You have chosen the Path of Dominion.
[System]:Objective: Establish a settlement. Protect your people. Carve your place in history.
The words etched themselves into the air, stark and final.
Cass's jaw tightened. He had seen this screen before. The same words, five years ago. But back then, he hadn't chosen this path. He had turned away. He had been afraid of the weight.
Not this time.
This time, he would carry it.
He glanced down at himself. No shield. No armor scorched black from dragon fire. Just a simple tunic, rough trousers, and worn boots. The system had stripped him clean.
He flexed his hands. The skin was unscarred. His palms were calloused only faintly, not broken and burned.
[System]:Starting Pack received.
A small satchel appeared at his side. He opened it. Inside were the barest essentials:
A waterskin.
A loaf of coarse bread.
A crude iron knife.
A handful of copper coins.
A rolled parchment, marked with a wax seal.
He unrolled the parchment.
[System]:Founding Sigil (Fragment).
The first step toward building your domain. Find a tribe to approve your claim. Without approval, you are only a wanderer with a title.
Cass's mouth tightened. He remembered this too. The reason he had turned away last time. Finding approval had been a nightmare. Tribes were stubborn, suspicious. Most players had failed their first attempts. Many gave up, choosing the safer Traveler path instead.
That had been him.
He remembered the forums mocking early Lords. Fools chasing impossible starts. He had listened. He had stepped aside.
But he also remembered the headlines months later. First City Established.First Lordship War.Trade Routes Carved.
And Cass had been nothing. A nameless Traveler wandering the edges of someone else's empire.
Not this time.
He clenched the parchment tight. "I'll find a tribe. I'll make them accept me."
The world stirred. A shadow passed overhead.
He looked up.
A hawk wheeled in the sky. Its wings flashed bronze in the sunlight. As it circled, a line of text glimmered faintly above it.
[Wildlife: Skysong Hawk – Passive]
Cass's breath caught. He had forgotten how immersive this world had been at the start. Every detail alive, every creature marked not as numbers but as names, roles, pieces of a living system.
He turned slowly. The grass whispered as he moved. To his right, the river cut through the land. To the left, the hills rose, dotted with sparse trees. Beyond them, a shadow of darker green marked a forest.
Where to begin?
A sound snapped his attention back.
Rustling. Close.
He crouched instinctively, hand on the knife. His eyes scanned the grass. Movement rippled through the blades.
A figure stumbled into view.
Not a monster. A man.
Young, rough-clothed, barefoot. His hair was tangled, his face smeared with dirt. He looked barely older than Cass, but his eyes were sharp with suspicion.
For a moment, they stared at each other.
Then text flickered above the figure's head.
[NPC: Warble Forager – Neutral]
Cass's breath caught. A Warble.
He had never seen one this early in the game before. In his past life, people hadn't even believed Warbles were real until months in, when rumors of underground tribes spread on forums.
This was different. This was a chance.
The forager tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "You smell of sun. You're not from here."
Cass's heart pounded. This was it. The first step.
"I'm Cass," he said quietly. He forced his voice steady. "I'm looking for a tribe."
The forager studied him for a long moment. Then he gave a short, sharp laugh. "The tribes don't want sun-folk. They want strength. They want proof."
A prompt flashed in Cass's vision.
[Quest: The Forager's Test]
Survive one night in the open plain. No fire. No walls. No help.
Reward: Pathway to the Warble Tribe.
Cass froze. His chest tightened. One night. Alone. In the wilds.
He remembered how brutal the early nights had been. Monsters prowled thick in the dark. Even Travelers with full groups had been wiped out.
He had avoided this once. He had turned away.
Now he couldn't.
He met the forager's gaze. "I'll do it."
The forager's eyes flickered with something like approval. Then he turned and vanished back into the grass, leaving no trail.
The quest marker glowed faintly on Cass's screen.
The sun dipped slowly. Shadows stretched long across the plain.
Cass sat on the grass, watching the light fade. His knife lay across his knees. His waterskin was half-empty already. His bread stale in his mouth.
The air cooled. The silence thickened.
Then the first howl split the dark.
[System]:Nightfall has begun.
[System]:Wild spawn rate increased.
His grip tightened on the knife. His heart pounded.
The grass rustled.
Something moved in the dark.
Cass rose to his feet, jaw clenched, and waited.