Dante woke to the sound of waves.
Not the crashing roar of breakers, but the gentle, rhythmic hush of lagoon water kissing sand. Soft. Insistent. Perfect.
He opened his eyes slowly, letting the morning light filter in. The sun was just cresting the palm tops, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges that reflected off the water like scattered jewels. He lay on his back in the sand, a makeshift bed of palm fronds he'd piled up before dozing off the night before. No blanket needed—the air was warm, the breeze just cool enough to feel refreshing.
For a long moment, he didn't move. Just stared up at the fronds swaying overhead, listening. Birds chirped in the distance—melodic calls he'd never heard on Earth. A fish jumped in the lagoon with a splash. No engines. No voices. No alarms blaring from a phone.
He smiled. A real one, slow and genuine.
Day two in paradise. Or was it day one still? Time felt optional here.
He sat up, stretching. His body responded eagerly—no stiffness, no grogginess. Whatever Carey had done with this new form, it was flawless. Muscles toned but not overbuilt, energy humming like he'd slept ten hours on the world's best mattress.
Hunger gnawed lightly at him again. Breakfast time.
He stood, brushing sand from his skin, and walked to the water's edge. The lagoon was alive with activity: schools of small fish darting near the surface, larger shadows cruising the deeper channels. He waded in up to his waist, the water warm and inviting. Diving down, he opened his eyes underwater—the clarity was unreal. Coral heads bloomed in vibrant colors: purples, yellows, greens. Fish of every hue swirled around him, unbothered.
He surfaced with a grin, shaking water from his hair. This beat any coffee run.
Spotting a likely candidate—a plump, silver fish with blue stripes hovering near a rock—he waited. Patience was key. It edged closer, nibbling at something on the coral. His hand shot out, cupping it gently but firmly.
Breakfast secured.
Back on shore, he rebuilt the fire pit from last night's embers. A few blows and fresh kindling, and flames danced up again. He cleaned the fish expertly—gills out, guts rinsed in the stream—and skewered it. While it cooked, he explored the treeline.
Coconuts hung heavy in clusters. He picked a fallen one, husked it with a sharp rock, and punched a hole to drink. Sweet, refreshing milk poured down his throat. Better than any store-bought brand.
Fruit bushes dotted the undergrowth: small red berries that burst with tangy sweetness, yellow orbs like oversized mangoes that smelled divine. He gathered a handful, sampling as he went. Everything safe, everything delicious. The atoll provided.
By the time the fish was done, he'd amassed a small feast. He ate sitting cross-legged on the sand, facing the lagoon. Juice from the fruits ran down his chin; he wiped it with the back of his hand, not caring.
Full and content, he leaned back against a palm trunk. The sun climbed higher, warming everything. He considered his next move. Shelter—something more permanent than a frond pile. There was bamboo-like growth farther inland, flexible and strong. Vines for lashing. He could build a lean-to, maybe elevate it on stilts over the shallows for the view.
Or just swim again. The water called.
He stood, stretching once more, and headed back in. This time he swam farther, out toward the coral reef that ringed the atoll. The drop-off was stunning—turquoise giving way to deep blue. Fish swarmed in clouds: parrotfish crunching coral with beak-like mouths, angelfish gliding elegantly, even a small ray stirring sand on the bottom.
He floated on his back, arms spread, letting the current rock him gently. Clouds drifted lazily. A seabird soared overhead, crying out.
This could be every day. Forever.
The thought settled deep, warming him more than the sun.
Hours passed like that—swimming, lounging, exploring pockets of the beach. He found a natural pool fed by the stream, perfect for bathing. Gathered more wood for tonight's fire. Fashioned a simple spear from a straightened branch and sharpened shell—though hand-catching felt more satisfying.
By midday, he was back at his fire pit, roasting a lunchtime catch. Sweat glistened on his skin from the heat, but the breeze kept it comfortable. He ate slowly, watching fish jump.
Life didn't get better than this.
Then, without warning, the air in front of him shimmered.
A blue screen materialized, hovering at eye level like augmented reality come to life. Semi-transparent, glowing softly with white text on a deep azure background.
[Caretaker System Activated!
Host: Dante
Unique Skill Granted: Divine Tidal Gacha
Welcome to your new beginning!]
Dante froze, mouthful of fish halfway chewed.
The screen continued, text scrolling smoothly.
[Basic Tutorial:
Your passion for fishing has been integrated into the system for seamless survival and enjoyment.
Every catch—fish, shellfish, or oceanic items—will automatically convert to Tidal Essence (TE).
Accumulate TE to perform pulls on the Divine Tidal Gacha Banner.
Pulls yield helpful tools, enhancements, companions, and more to enrich your experience!
Current TE: 0 (Start fishing to begin earning!)
10-pull guaranteed higher rarity. Single pulls available.
Happy casting! ~Carey]
A cheerful ping sounded in his head, like a notification chime but warmer. Carey's voice followed, light and bubbly as ever.
[Heyyy, Dante! System's online now that you've settled in. Isn't this place amaaaazing? Just like I promised. The gacha's all set up—super easy. Catch some fishies, rack up TE, and pull for fun surprises. Tools to make fishing even better, maybe some upgrades for your shelter. Or companions if you ever want company!]
Dante swallowed his bite, staring at the screen. It hovered patiently, waiting for input.
Companions.
The word echoed from their conversation in the void.
He set the half-eaten fish down, wiping his hands on his thighs—though he had no clothes to dirty.
The screen pulsed gently.
[Ready to start? First catch bonus active!]
He stood slowly, facing it directly.
"No," he said aloud, voice calm but firm. "I don't need any of that."
The screen flickered, as if surprised.
Carey's voice returned, a touch hesitant.
[Aww, really? But it's free! And tailored just for you. The pulls are—]
"I don't need companions," he interrupted, cutting through whatever sales pitch was coming. "I don't need tools or enhancements. I need solitude. This—" He gestured around him, at the lagoon, the palms, the endless quiet. "This is enough. More than enough."
Silence from the system for a beat.
Then the screen updated:
[Host Preference Noted: Maximum Solitude Mode Engaged. ]
Gacha notifications minimized. Pull interface available on mental command only.
No forced tutorials or pings.
Enjoy your peace! ~Carey
P.S. If you change your mind, just think 'Status' or go fishing~
The blue screen faded away with a soft chime, leaving only the natural sounds of the atoll.
Dante exhaled slowly. Good. Boundaries respected.
He picked up his fish, finishing it without rush. The system lingered in the back of his mind—like a phone on silent mode. There if needed, but not intruding.
He wouldn't need it.
Afternoon stretched ahead. More swimming? Spear practice? Or just sit and watch the water.
He chose the water.
Wading in, he dove deep, letting the cool embrace wash away the brief interruption. Fish scattered and reformed around him.
Peace restored.
As he surfaced, a school of vibrant tropicals darted by, scales flashing invitations.
He smiled again.
Time to catch dinner.