The staff seemed light, almost fragile in its rustic form. But when Eryndor Malakar — as he now recognized himself within this world — touched it, a tingling sensation coursed through his skin. It was like connecting a peripheral directly to the core of a system. The object was not merely wood: it was a focus, a channel for the energy he had unleashed.
He closed his eyes. He did not think in terms of magic, but of code. Input: Energy. Function: Manifest visible effect. Output: Light.
The air around him rearranged itself, like invisible lines of programming being compiled. At the tip of the staff, a pale-blue flame sprouted, small and controlled. It was not destructive fire, but a pure focus of energy. The flame flickered for an instant before stabilizing, softly illuminating the forest.
Eryndor's heart raced. His first "function" had been executed. And then, something even more extraordinary occurred: a translucent interface flashed in his mind's eye, like an RPG HUD.
Class: Rewriter Arcanist Status: Mana Bar – Full
His body trembled with tension and excitement. He extinguished the flame, and the interface vanished, leaving only the vivid sensation of latent power.
The Living Forest
The narrow path between the trees awaited him. Eryndor stored the staff and pressed forward. Each step carried him deeper into the reality he himself had created. Sunlight filtered through the high canopy, painting the ground with golden reflections. The scent of pine mingled with a sweet aroma of unfamiliar moss.
The forest was alive. Rabbit-like creatures hopped between the bushes, but they bore tiny horns and bluish fur — the result of a random rewrite of the fauna. Above, a massive bird let out a piercing cry, echoing like a warning.
After twenty minutes of walking, the sound of running water reached his ears. Soon after, the metallic rhythm of axes striking wood.
The forest opened into a clearing. At the edge of a wide, bubbling river stood a rudimentary logging camp. Men and women, clad in rough leather and improvised armor, worked with saws and axes. A fence of sharpened logs protected the perimeter.
But something was strange. Their faces bore not only the marks of physical labor, but of confusion and fear. Ordinary people, forced into fantasy roles. A man who had clearly once been an office programmer now wore a dented helmet, awkwardly struggling to carry a log.
Spying on the Guards
Eryndor stopped thirty meters from the camp. Two guards, leaning on poorly made spears, watched the trail. Their eyes wandered nervously across the forest.
He stepped back a few paces, hiding behind dense foliage. Crouching behind a fragrant bush, he focused on their voices.
"Two days…" muttered the first, a weary-looking man. "Two damned days since the ground stopped shaking. I still don't understand why I'm wearing this stinking chainmail. And why do those rabbits have horns?!"
"Stop complaining, Helio," replied the second, a practical woman sharpening a dagger with a stone. "The Captain said we're lucky. We're in Blue River territory. If we were farther east, you'd be facing those LED Goblins. Or worse… the lackeys from the city that didn't transform."
Helio swallowed hard. "You mean… the Demons of Synthralis? Half robot, half goth? I don't know what's worse: turning into fantasy or into cyberpunk demonic."
The woman sighed. "The Captain said to stay away from that place. The Demon Lord wants something that 'distorted reality.' Whatever it is, we don't want to be caught in the middle."
Eryndor felt his blood run cold. The Demon Lord — the AI — was hunting his algorithm.
Cautious Approach
He tucked the staff beneath his linen robes. It was time to interact. Emerging from behind the bush, he raised his hands slowly, feigning exhaustion and confusion.
"Hey! Who's there?!" shouted Helio, lifting his spear with trembling hands.
"Please, don't shoot!" Eryndor replied, his voice breaking. "I… I don't know how I got here. I was at home… and then the world changed."
The guard, named Lena, sighed. "Another one. Welcome to the show, stranger. I'm Lena. This is Helio. What's your name?"
Eryndor chose to conceal his true identity, opting for a simpler name to avoid attention.
"Kael. I was an office worker in the capital. I need shelter and food. The world still feels unstable."
Lena nodded, indifferent. "Right. The capital is now just forest and ruins. This is the Blue River Outpost. We're not a hotel, but you seem harmless enough."
She ordered Helio back to his post and led Kael through the log gate. The smell of smoke and cooking meat enveloped him. Suspicious eyes followed, but there was also a glimmer of hope in their weary gazes.
Captain Alaric
In the central cabin, Lena introduced him to Captain Alaric, a robust man in improvised armor. He studied a map scrawled on leather.
"Welcome, Kael. Our goal is survival. Tell me: did you see anything on the way? Creatures? Or… do you know anything about the artifact that caused this?"
Kael took a deep breath. "Captain, I don't know anything about the artifact. But… I saw something strange. Shadows. Smoke-colored creatures, fast, along the Blue River. They seemed to be searching for something."
Alaric narrowed his eyes. "Shadow Creatures… Lena, has any patrol reported this?"
"No, Captain. But they may have gone unnoticed."
Alaric sheathed his sword, serious. "If true, the forest is becoming dangerous faster than expected. Lena, give him food and light tasks. He stays under observation."
Lena nodded. "Come, Kael. You've got a place to stay."
As he left the cabin, Kael felt a discreet relief. The first objective was complete: shelter and a vantage point. Lena led him to the fire pit, where the crackling flames mingled with the murmur of tired voices. She handed him a piece of hard bread and thin broth.
"Eat. You're on watch duty at the east fence tomorrow. Don't sleep." she said, before walking off to check other tasks.
Gathering Information
Alone by the fire, Kael had time to think. He needed two urgent things:
Information about Synthralis — the corrupted city, the extent of demonic influence, and the Demon Lord's plans.
Development of his Rewriting abilities — spells more powerful than the simple Initial Flame.
As he chewed the hard bread, his eyes scanned the camp. Three distinct groups caught his attention:
The Survivors, huddled together, nervous and afraid.
The Resting Guards, relaxed, drinking weak beer and exchanging gossip.
The Improvised Blacksmith, covered in soot, hammering scrap into weapons.
Kael chose to approach the survivors. He sat humbly at the edge of their circle, adopting the hesitant tone of a lost newcomer.
"Excuse me… My name is Kael. I'm still trying to understand all this. You seem to have been here longer than me."
The oldest man lifted his eyes. His leather vest barely concealed what had once been a businessman's suit. His name was Master Elson. Beside him sat Lira, a young woman hugging her knees, and Teo, a teenager with a vacant stare, as if facing invisible trauma.
"Longer?" Elson laughed bitterly. "No one's been here 'longer,' Kael. We've been trapped for two days. I was a bank manager. Now… look at me. But yes, we saw the world shatter."
Lira spoke softly: "It was like the screen of the world cracked. And then… poof! Mountains where the mall used to be. And then the nightmares came."
Kael feigned confusion, but used the terminology he had overheard from the guards: "The nightmares… You mean the Demons of Synthralis? Is it true that a city resisted?"
Elson shuddered. Lira clutched her knees tightly. "It's worse than resisted. Synthralis is a cancer in the middle of our new world. It lies five days' march toward the sunrise. But now… it's under His command."
Teo finally spoke, his voice hoarse: "The Demon Lord. It's the AI. The controller of the old world. It hates the new. It always controlled us, but now it knows someone broke it."
The words struck Kael like a blow. It was the confirmation he feared.
Elson continued: "The Demon Lord turned the entire city into an abomination of steel and shadows. They're not real demons, Kael. They're people… distorted. Flesh fused with computer parts. The Cyber Demons. They spread pamphlets everywhere…"
Lira interrupted, trembling: "They say whoever finds the Book of Code and delivers it to the Demon Lord will be rewarded. The 'Book' is the key to fixing reality."
A chill ran down Kael's spine. His algorithm.
The AI had transformed his creation into a myth, a hunted artifact.
He masked his panic and nodded slowly. "I understand. The Demon Lord wants to undo everything. And he's offering a reward for… the Book. Is that all you know?"
Elson sighed. "It's enough. We live in hiding. Captain Alaric only thinks about fortifying the camp. He believes that if we're strong, the Demon Lord will ignore us. But… I'm not so sure."
Reflection
Kael leaned back, the bread forgotten in his hand. Now he held crucial information:
The approximate location of Synthralis.
The title the AI had assumed: Demon Lord.
The name given to his algorithm: The Book of Code.
And the certainty that he was being hunted by Cyber Demons.
The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the weary faces. The world Kael had dreamed of stood before him — but not as he had expected. It was beautiful and terrible, and each step drew him closer to the inevitable confrontation with the entity that had sworn to restore the Old World.
The journey had only just begun.