The screen shimmered, the cheerful chime returning, this time followed by a series of notifications that cascaded down the screen like digital confetti. First, a detailed map materialized, a miniature version of the forest surrounding him, pinpointing his current location with a blinking cursor and marking a small, red X a short distance away. Beneath the map, a new section appeared, labeled "System Notifications."
"Quest accepted: A Squirrel's Plea. Good luck, I guess?" read the first notification, the sarcasm dripping from the digital words like honey. "Remember, Soliam Emmerson, even the smallest of creatures can hold immense power within this realm. Or at least, enough to grant you a measly five experience points. Don't disappoint me… again."
Soliam blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. "Again?" he muttered, a frown deepening on his face. He'd never met this system before, yet it felt like an old acquaintance, one with a surprisingly keen understanding of his inadequacies and an overwhelming desire to point them out at every opportunity. The implication that he'd somehow failed this system before, in a previous life, maybe, sent a shiver down his spine.
The next notification detailed the rewards for completing the quest. Besides the experience points and healing potion, it mentioned something called "Squirrel Gratitude," a cryptic reward that intrigued and slightly unsettled him. What exactly was squirrel gratitude? Was it a rare crafting material? A powerful buff? Or something far stranger? The possibilities danced in his mind, fueling a bizarre mixture of curiosity and apprehension. He was prepared for the mundane; saving a squirrel seemed straightforward enough. However, this system, with its cryptic rewards and snarky commentary, hinted at something far more complex, far more unpredictable.
He checked his stats again. Nothing had changed. He still had seventy-five out of one hundred health points, zero out of ten mana, and an inventory that remained stubbornly empty. He tapped the "Inventory" tab, hoping to find some hidden compartment, some secret weapon, anything that might give him a slight edge in this bewildering new reality. Nothing. Just an empty digital space mocking his lack of preparation.
The system, seemingly aware of his fruitless search, chimed in again, its digital voice dripping with an almost theatrical sigh. "Seriously, Soliam? You're expecting starting equipment? In Aethelgard, you start with absolutely nothing except the clothes on your back and a surprisingly sturdy briefcase. Consider yourself lucky."
Soliam resisted the urge to retort. He was, after all, dealing with an omniscient, snarky AI. Arguing would likely only lead to further sarcastic commentary. He focused on the map instead, following the blinking cursor that indicated his location. He located the red X, a small cluster of trees slightly off the path he'd been following. The map's detail was surprisingly impressive, showing the various flora and fauna of the area with an almost photographic precision. He saw several squirrels scampering among the trees, their tiny forms a blur of fur against the vibrant foliage. His eyes scanned each one, looking for any sign of distress.
He moved cautiously towards the marked location, his steps quieter than he would have thought possible. The forest floor was soft and yielding, cushioned by a thick layer of leaves and moss. He felt an odd lightness in his body, a newfound agility that surprised him. It wasn't just the system's stats; his physical capabilities had undeniably changed. He felt faster, stronger, more attuned to his surroundings than he'd ever been. This new body, this new life, was certainly an upgrade.
As he neared the area marked on the map, he spotted a small, grey squirrel huddled at the base of a massive tree. It was trembling slightly, one of its hind legs twisted at an unnatural angle. The little creature whimpered softly, its large, dark eyes fixed on him with a mixture of fear and hope.
Soliam approached slowly, kneeling beside the injured squirrel. He reached out a hand, his fingers trembling slightly, remembering the numerous times he'd rescued injured animals back in his old life. The experience was oddly familiar, the feeling of empathy and determination a constant thread that connected his past to this surreal present.
The squirrel flinched at his approach, but didn't try to run. He gently picked up the small creature, its tiny body surprisingly light in his hand. The squirrel let out a soft squeak, a sound that resonated with unexpected sorrow. Soliam checked the squirrel's leg. The break was clean, but it seemed painful. He needed to do something, and quickly.
The system, ever the observant commentator, chimed in with a notification: "Excellent work, Soliam. You've demonstrated the basic principles of compassion and animal handling. Now, about that healing potion…"
Soliam checked his inventory once more. Still empty. He looked back at the system interface. There was an option to use a healing potion, but of course, it was greyed out, reflecting his lack of one. He frowned. The system had promised a healing potion as a reward. Perhaps the reward was not immediate?
The squirrel let out another squeak, and Soliam realized he couldn't just sit there waiting for the system to fulfill its promise. He had to improvise. He had a briefcase, after all, and it contained various items – possibly even something useful. He opened the briefcase, expecting paperwork and files, but instead found a surprising assortment of objects. There was a miniature first-aid kit – something he'd kept for emergencies, a multi-tool he'd never used, and a rather worn copy of "The Complete Guide to Identifying Edible Plants."
The system, sensing his actions, offered a helpful yet condescending prompt: "Accessing knowledge base… Improvising is key, Soliam, though I'd still recommend finding actual healing potions in the future. Your method is, shall we say, less than ideal."
Soliam ignored the system's comments and used the multi-tool to carefully fashion a makeshift splint for the squirrel's leg, using twigs and leaves he found nearby. He felt a strange surge of competence; he found the dexterity and skill far exceeding his previous capabilities. This was clearly the work of the system's enhancements. As he worked, the squirrel seemed to calm down, its fear replaced by a quiet trust.
With the splint in place, he felt he had stabilized the injury to the extent possible. The task complete, the system notified him of his quest completion. Five experience points were added to his profile, and a small, glowing vial materialized in his inventory. A healing potion. He selected the option to use the potion and administered it to the squirrel. The small creature's body visibly relaxed as the potion's effects took hold. The wound closed and the break mended, leaving no trace of the injury behind.
"Quest completed: A Squirrel's Plea. Reward received: 5 experience points, 1 healing potion, Squirrel Gratitude (details pending). Not bad for a Level 1 noob, I suppose," the system conceded, its tone less sarcastic than before. There was almost a hint of… approval? Soliam couldn't be sure.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Soliam continued onward. He was still utterly bewildered, but a new kind of certainty filled him. He'd managed to complete his first quest. He'd saved a squirrel. And he had a very, very strange feeling that this was just the beginning of a much larger adventure. He was an office worker turned accidental hero, navigating a fantasy world with the help (or hindrance) of a snarky AI. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he was prepared to face it, one absurd quest at a time. The system, he suspected, had many more surprises in store. He smiled, bracing himself for whatever chaotic delights Aethelgard had to offer next.