I died on a Tuesday.
It wasn't some epic, cinematic sacrifice. No slow-motion dive to save a toddler, no profound final words to a weeping lover. Just me—thirty-two, single, chronically sleep-deprived—deciding the crosswalk light was taking way too damn long. I stepped out.
The truck had other plans.
One frame: I was mentally drafting the most professional version of "bro wtf" to Slack my project manager.
Next frame: Black.
Then—Blue.
A rectangle manifested in my field of vision. Clean edges, slight transparency, and the exact shade of a corporate error screen at three in the morning.
[System Initialization – Player Account Created]
[Welcome to The Veil, Alex Chen. Congratulations on the recent termination of your employment (Mortal Coil Division).]
I blinked. The box didn't budge.
"Great," I croaked, my voice echoing weirdly inside my own skull. "I'm hallucinating Microsoft Comic Sans in the afterlife."
The panel flickered as if it were actually offended.
[Error: Sarcasm detected. Humor calibration adjusted to 42%.]
[Core Stats – Level 1]
Name: Alex Chen
Class: Unassigned (Beta Tester – Provisional)
Race: Human (Earth Variant – Software Edition)
HP: 120 / 120
MP: 80 / 80
SP: 100 / 100
Attributes:
STR: 8
DEX: 10
CON: 9
INT: 14
WIS: 11
CHA: 7
LUK: ??? (Hidden)
[You have 5 unspent attribute points from character creation. Spend them wisely. Or don't. I'm not your mom.]
I actually laughed. It was that short, bitter bark you let out when production goes down and the entire C-suite is staring at you like you personally wrote the bug.
"Okay, universe. Fine. You win. This is either the worst fever dream of my life, or I just got Truck-kun'd into the shittiest open beta in history."
I tried waving my hand through the box. No dice. Tried closing my eyes. Still there.
[Pro Tip: Pain receptors remain online for maximum immersion. Enjoy!]
"Fuck you, box."
I finally took a look around. No fantasy meadows. No Demon Lord's throne room. Not even a cute elf receptionist.
Just an endless, cracked parking lot under a sky the color of a three-day-old bruise. Abandoned cars rusted in neat rows, looking like someone had hit pause on the apocalypse. The wind smelled like hot copper and old pennies. In the distance, skyscrapers leaned at drunken, impossible angles.
A minimap pinged in the corner of my eye—a simple dot for me and a pulsing circle about two kilometers northeast labeled Safe Zone (Tutorial).
[Main Quest: Tutorial Phase]
Objective: Reach the nearest Safe Zone.
Reward: Class Selection Unlock, Basic Gear Pack, 100 XP.
Failure: Respawn penalty applied (Details classified – enjoy those beta perks!)
Time Limit: None (Yet).
A faint glowing line traced itself across the asphalt—evil Google Maps.
I pushed myself up. My knees popped. I still felt thirty-two. Fantastic.
"Alright," I muttered. "Let's treat this like the buggiest alpha test in corporate history."
I mentally grabbed those five points and dumped the whole lot into Intelligence. It ticked up to 19.
The world suddenly snapped into focus. Edges got sharper, contrast dialed up, and distant details resolved as if I'd just put on prescription lenses I didn't know I needed.
[Passive Skill Unlocked: Analyst's Eye (Lvl 1)]
Description: You see patterns where others see chaos. +10% bonus to identify weaknesses, hidden mechanics, and system exploits. Stacks with high INT.
My eyebrows shot up.
"Exploits?" I whispered. "Oh honey, you just gave a burned-out dev carte blanche to break your game."
I started walking.
The path was straightforward enough, but the parking lot didn't stay empty for long. Ten minutes in, the asphalt buckled. Something punched up through the ground—a humanoid shape with skin like cracked concrete and eyes glowing with the red of an unhandled exception.
[Enemy: Corrupted Drone – Lvl 3]
Threat: Low (For now)
HP: 180 / 180
It lunged. It was a slow, predictable wind-up. I sidestepped on pure instinct and grabbed the nearest heavy object—a rusted tire iron lying next to a gutted sedan.
[Improvised Weapon: Rusty Tire Iron]
Damage: 12-18 (Blunt)
Durability: 8/20
Special: +5% chance to cause Bleed (Tetanus never dies).
My first swing connected. Hard.
Critical Hit!
[Corrupted Drone HP: 142 / 180]
[You dealt 38 damage! (Sneak Attack bonus + Analyst's Eye proc)]
The thing screeched—a digital, glitchy sound. I swung again. Twice more. It shattered into black pixels and ash that smelled like a fried motherboard.
[Enemy Defeated! +45 XP]
[Level Up! You are now Level 2]
[HP +12 | MP +8 | SP +10]
[You have 3 stat points available.]
I stood there, breathing hard, the tire iron dripping black sludge.
"That... felt disturbingly good."
[Warning: Adrenaline spike detected. Recommend hydration and not dying.]
"Thanks for the TED Talk, Clippy."
The Safe Zone turned out to be a derelict roadside diner. A neon sign still flickered "OPEN" despite every window being smashed to hell. Inside, the lights hummed, the booths were sticky, and a jukebox played nothing but static.
Seven people were inside. They all stared at me like I'd grown a second head.
"You see them too?" a woman in her mid-twenties asked. She had glasses, a hoodie, and definite 'senior dev' energy. A name tag floated over her head: [Mia – Lvl 1].
"Yeah." I gave a stiff wave. "Alex. Just got here. Killed a concrete zombie on the way. You?"
A big guy with a beard and a fire axe stepped forward. [Marcus – Lvl 2].
"Marcus. We've been here since yesterday. System says this is a Safe Zone—no spawns inside. But the food's almost gone."
I glanced at the counter. Moldy patties, empty fridges.
[Safe Zone Buff Active: No monster spawns. Stamina regen +50%. HP recovery +2/min.]
I slid into a booth. "Anyone figured out how to log out yet?"
Dead silence.
Mia leaned in. "We think it's permanent. The welcome message mentioned 'beta testing.' And... there's a leaderboard."
She pointed at the air. I focused.
[Global Leaderboard – Beta Phase 1]
#1: Player #00013 – Level 7
...
#847291: Alex Chen – Level 2
Bottom third. I was already ranked in the apocalypse. Great.
"Awesome," I muttered. "I'm losing at death."
Marcus grunted. "We need to level. There's a quest board out back—daily scavenging, nest clears. But going solo is suicide."
I looked at their faces. Tired. Hungry. Scared, but not broken yet. And I had Analyst's Eye. Patterns were already forming in my head: spawn timers, resource nodes, maybe even a way to stretch that Safe Zone buff.
"Alright," I said. "I'm in. But rule number one: we treat this like the worst production outage of all time. Document everything. Test the boundaries. Find the exploits before someone patches them."
Mia actually managed a small smile. "You sound like you've done this before."
I shrugged. "I've fixed enough 2 a.m. fires to know when the backend is screaming."
Outside, the sky had turned a deep, bruised purple. Multiple howls rose in the distance—coordinated.
[New Quest Available: Night Watch]
Objective: Defend the Safe Zone until dawn.
Reward: 200 XP, Group Buff Unlock, Mystery Item.
Penalty: Safe Zone downgrade (Hostile incursions possible).
I cracked my knuckles and gripped the tire iron.
"Time to earn some XP the old-fashioned way."
Marcus hefted his axe. "You got a plan, Tech Support?"
I grinned, feeling—for the first time since the truck hit me—actually awake.
"Yeah. We're gonna break this game before it breaks us."