I woke up.
Which surprised me more than anything.
Softness beneath me. The sensation was so foreign, so utterly out of place after what felt like an eternity of stone crushing my body, that I almost didn't believe it. My mind was slow, fighting through a fog of exhaustion and pain. I pushed the lingering feelings of being crushed away.
Then, something wet dragged across my face.
I flinched, instincts firing, but my body refused to respond. My limbs were sluggish, heavy, like they weren't mine anymore.
Something yelped as I weakly pushed it, soft fur brushed against my fingertips before it scampered back.
I forced my eyes open.
It was bright. Too bright. A sharp, piercing light assaulted me, stabbing straight into my skull. My head throbbed, like my brain was trying to claw its way out of my skull. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut again, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
What the hell was happening?
I tried again. Slowly this time.
My vision swam, not just from the light, but from something else. Ghostly letters flickered across my sight, shifting and distorting as if they were burned into my retinas.
I blinked hard.
The letters remained.
I frowned, still sluggish, still trying to process everything. My body was stiff, aching, but not the way it should have been. I had been crushed, I had felt myself dying.
I opened my eyes again.
The letters were still there.
They floated across my vision, translucent yet impossible to ignore. My head throbbed with each flashing line, a deep ache pulsing behind my skull. I forced myself to focus, blinking rapidly as the words settled into place.
System Initializing…
System Installed…
Running Data Check…
Data Check Complete.
Then, more lines appeared.
Title Earned – Diligence's Chosen
You have been blessed by the Overseer of Diligence.
Reward: System of the Virtues.
Title Earned – Otherworlder
You have traveled between worlds.
Reward: Tongues Hold No Secrets.
I sucked in a breath.
My mind struggled to catch up.
System? Overseer? Titles?
None of it made sense.
As soon as I finished reading, the words dissolved, replaced by more.
⸻
Status
Name: Ethan Ward
Cultivation: Mortal
Titles:
• Diligence's Chosen
• Otherworlder
Skills:
• Last Stand
Stats:
Strength: 10
Agility: 10
Constitution: 15
Spirit: 10
⸻
I skimmed through the words flashing in my vision, trying to make sense of them. None of it felt real. Titles? Another world? What the hell was it even talking about? My mind rejected it immediately. There had to be some mistake. Some weird hallucination. Maybe I was still in the rift, trapped under rubble, and this was just my brain misfiring as I died.
I needed proof. Something real. My hand shot to my pocket, fingers fumbling as I pulled out my phone. The screen was cracked, but when I pressed the power button, it flickered to life. I stared at it, heart hammering as it loaded.
No reception.
My stomach twisted. I turned on flight mode, then switched it off. Still nothing. Again. Nothing.
The world around me blurred, a dull ringing filling my ears. My breathing hitched, coming out shallow and unsteady.
I swallowed hard, forcing down the rising panic. I couldn't afford to lose it. Not now. I clenched my jaw, locking my muscles in place, forcing slow, steady breaths.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket. One thing at a time. I couldn't deal with the bigger picture yet. Couldn't think about what this all meant. So I pushed it down. Ignored it. Focused on what was right in front of me.
I turned my attention back to the floating words. I needed to understand what I was dealing with.
Cultivation. The word stood out immediately. When I focused on it, more text appeared.
Mortal – No cultivation signature present. Power level restricted to standard organic parameters. Evolution required.
I frowned. That sounded… limiting. But also promising. If evolution was required, then that meant it could change.
Next were my stats. Four categories, each with a number attached. I had no idea what they actually meant, but I'd figure it out soon enough.
But all of that could wait.
The words faded from my vision, finally allowing me to focus on my surroundings.
I was lying on soft grass, sunlight warming my skin. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves above, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across my body.
Trees surrounded me, their towering forms enclosing the small clearing where I lay. The air smelled fresh. Birds chirped in the distance, and somewhere nearby, water trickled softly over stone.
The bushes rustled and a small shape moved within the shadows, just at the edge of my vision.
I tensed. Then, a fox poked its head out. Its fur was jet black, blending seamlessly with the undergrowth, making it nearly invisible against the dense foliage. The only reason I even noticed it was the sharp glint of its eyes, watching me.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the fox darted back into the bushes, vanishing without a sound.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to relax. It was just an animal.
Ignoring it, I shifted, pressing my palms against the dirt as I pushed myself up. My muscles screamed in protest, every movement stiff and aching. My body felt wrong. Not injured—just… off.
My hand drifted to my stomach.
The demon's claws had ripped through me, impaling me like I was nothing. I could still feel it, the memory of my flesh being torn apart.
But there was nothing there. Just scar tissue. I pressed harder, fingers digging into the skin beneath my shredded shirt. No pain. No open wound. No sign that I had ever been dying under a mountain of stone.
I should be dead.
Last Stand.
It had to be the reason I was still breathing. But healing that kind of damage? I didn't know it could do that. In fact I knew it couldn't. Something wasn't adding up.
A cold unease settled in my gut, but I shoved it down.
Later. I could figure everything out later.
Right now, my throat felt like sandpaper had scraped it and my stomach felt like it hadn't been fed in years.
I could hear the sound of water, it was faint, trickling somewhere nearby. I latched onto the sound, forcing my thoughts into order.
Find the stream. Get cleaned up. Figure out where the hell I am.
One thing at a time.
I took a slow breath, then started walking, ignoring the weight of unseen eyes lingering in the trees.
I stripped down and waded into the water, the cold biting into my skin. It shocked my system, forcing my mind into clarity for the first time since I'd woken up.
Then I saw my reflection.
I froze.
Scars covered my body, thin lines, jagged slashes, deep grooves where flesh had been torn and forced back together. Some were old, faded. Others were fresh, angry reminders of wounds that should have killed me. I forced back a shiver.
Even my face wasn't spared. Faint marks trailed across my cheekbone, another just above my brow.
My stomach twisted.
It was one thing to feel the pain. To remember the way my body had been broken. But seeing it? Living with the evidence carved into my skin?
It made me feel sick.
For a long moment, I just stood there, staring at myself in the water's surface. My breath was steady, but my hands trembled.
Then I forced myself to move.
Scrubbing my body clean, I watched as the dried blood clouded the water. Crimson swirled in soft eddies, staining the river before disappearing downstream. My fingers dug into my skin, scraping away filth, forcing myself to focus on the motion.
By the time I was done, my skin was raw.
I pulled myself together, pushing the sick feeling down.
Then I turned to my ruined clothes.
They were stained, torn, barely hanging together. But I had nothing else.
I dipped them into the water, wringing out the filth as best as I could before laying them out to dry on the rocks.
While I waited, I knelt by the stream, cupping my hands to drink. The cold water burned down my throat.
Once my clothes were dry enough, I pulled them back on. They stuck uncomfortably to my skin, but I ignored it.
Laid out on the ground were all of my possessions. A broken dagger, my cracked phone with no reception and my headphones. That was it.
Not exactly the best survival kit.
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my damp, dark, tangled hair.
I was alone. No food. No weapons aside from a useless blade. No clue where the hell I was.
But I was alive. And that was enough. For now.
I stood up, staring down the river's path.
One thing at a time.
I needed to find some food, then civilisation. And figure out what the hell this place was.
Then, somehow, I'd find a way home.
With a plan forming in my mind I grabbed my things, stuffing them in my pockets and began walking along the river.