Nathaniel surfed effortlessly over the golden dunes of the desert, his piercing gaze scanning the horizon for the final catacomb. The searing sun beat down upon the sands, but its harsh heat was nothing to him now. Regret? Not a trace of it lingered in his soul. His life had taken a glorious turn since he became undead—a transformation that had granted him power beyond anything he had dreamed of back on Earth.
Back then, weakness had been his shackle, and his days were a litany of suffering. Bullied mercilessly in school for his frailty, he could still see the sneering faces of his tormentors, hear their mocking laughter as they stole his belongings and threw punches that left him bruised and broken. His home offered no sanctuary; his parents—both alcoholics—frequently lashed out at him, their fists landing as substitutes for their frustration with life. They didn’t need reasons to hurt him. By the time Nathaniel was seventeen, he had already lost three teeth, permanently etched reminders of his misery.
Things had seemed to improve when he moved far from his parents and found a steady job. He even had a girlfriend for a time. But she wasn’t the salvation he’d hoped for. She manipulated him, testing the limits of his devotion and leaving him hollow and betrayed when her games were finally revealed. Four years of lies unraveled in an instant, and Nathaniel, 29 and utterly desolate, stood on the precipice of ending it all.
Then the System arrived.
It was his unexpected salvation, a cosmic twist of fate. Transported to a new world where strength was the ultimate currency, Nathaniel no longer had to bow to anyone. For the first time, he wasn’t prey. He threw himself into the art of magic, mastering the craft and eventually evolving into a sandmage. And when the system shop first appeared, he encountered Ankhu-Ra, the ancient mummy whose promises of power and a home where he would never again be looked down upon ignited a fire in Nathaniel’s heart.
Becoming undead wasn’t just a choice—it was liberation. The day he emerged from the system shop with his newfound power was the day he took revenge, slaughtering his former party members and using their lifeblood to craft the first bandage that adorned his arm. That act marked the beginning of his reign. From then on, no one could defeat him. Nathaniel carved a bloody path through elves and vampires alike, ascending the ranks with a speed that left his enemies reeling.
Ankhu-Ra’s celestial blessing and sage advice molded Nathaniel into a force to be reckoned with, a terror even the proudest vampires dared not provoke. Though allies by necessity, Nathaniel often found himself imagining the moment he could prove his superiority to them all. One day, he told himself, his chance would come.
Surfing over the dunes, Nathaniel’s keen eyes spotted it—the final catacomb. Its ancient gates loomed ahead, shrouded in an aura of mystery and menace. Unlike the others, this one radiated a sense of power older than time itself. But like the rest, its doors remained sealed against him, taunting him with the secrets they held within. He made a final mark on the shared map and turned, the desert winds swirling around him as he began his journey back.
Nathaniel’s thoughts shifted to bloodlust. He craved the thrill of the hunt, the intoxicating rush of power that came with killing. His travels had strengthened his body through tempering, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. Days ago, he had reached Level 80, but he sought more. Evolution demanded relentless effort, and he was determined to claim an even greater class.
Currently, his mythic class set him apart, though it wasn’t entirely uncommon among those who had excelled in the tutorial. The memory of Ankhu-Ra’s guidance lingered; without the ancient mummy’s insights, Nathaniel might not have succeeded. Accumulating natural treasures, earning a wealth of credits, and delaying evolution—these had been the keys to unlocking his mythic potential. Few within the council had achieved the same, and Nathaniel reveled in his elite status. Yet, he hungered for more.
Celestial-class? Likely unattainable. But ethereal? That was within reach, and he burned with ambition to claim it. His current class already granted him devastating power, so much so that it felt almost unfair. But an ethereal class would elevate him beyond even that, and Nathaniel could scarcely imagine how it would feel to wield such strength.
As he approached the savanna, his eyes caught sight of one of his sand elementals. The creatures had grown immensely in power, nearly reaching E-grade, and Nathaniel’s smile was one of satisfaction. These beings were nightmares to fight in the desert, their ability to heal from the very sands around them making them nearly invincible. Nathaniel relished the thought of pitting them against the living, watching as they ripped his enemies apart with brutal efficiency.
The wind whipped around him as he sped across the sands, his thoughts brimming with ambition and anticipation. This was his world now, and he would stop at nothing to make it bow before him.
<--
Kael stood at the edge of the tall tower in the heart of his fortress, the cool night air brushing against his face as he surveyed the base below. This vantage point was his retreat, a place where he could rise above the chaos and reflect on his life and the battles ahead. From here, everything seemed small—manageable.
The scouts had returned with troubling news: they had located the undead faction. However, their carelessness had allowed a vampire to follow them back to the base. Now, preparations were underway for the inevitable assault.
Below, the fortress buzzed with activity as guards scrambled to reinforce the massive defenses. Kael’s base was a fortress in every sense, protected by thick walls bristling with defensive weapons, multiple layers of ring walls, and even a fleet of flying ships poised to intercept airborne threats. But Kael knew the vampires wouldn’t come alone. The scouts had reported hundreds of undead beasts gathering in the distance, their shapes shifting ominously beneath the moonlight.
Despite the looming threat, Kael felt calm. Most of the elite fighters in the base, including himself, were prepared to ascend to the next stage if necessary. Their strategy was clear: hold the line long enough for everyone to amass 150,000 credits. Every second mattered, but Kael couldn’t shake the quiet excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior. The upcoming battle would finally push him to Level 80.
Yet he planned to delay his evolution. Getting a high-rarity class was far too important. Unlike the fleeting time spent in F-grade, E-grade demanded years of careful cultivation to build a solid foundation for the challenges to come. And Kael wasn’t the only one following this path. Kai and Sylas, his closest comrades, had also reached Level 80 and were now farming to secure the best possible evolutions.
Kael’s own motivations, however, extended beyond personal gain. The Chosen of Aeta, a fellow human from Earth, was dominating another tutorial. Aeta had promised Kael a position at the Chosen’s side if he could prevent the ascension of Ankhet Sekhmara. This alliance would grant Kael protection and time—precious resources he needed to thrive in E-grade and secure a powerful D-grade class.
But there was a complication. Kael wanted the strongest evolution possible, and farming for it seemed the logical course of action. Aeta had hinted at risks, especially with the sanguine thorn. To obtain one, Kael would have to kill Thalion, a task that weighed heavily on his conscience.
Before the system’s integration, Kael had served in the army for years. Abandoning a fellow soldier, even one like Thalion, went against everything he believed in. But times had changed. Kael had a family now, and he would do whatever it took to protect them—even if it meant killing Thalion. His brother, though far away now, was never far from Kael’s thoughts. Aeta had assured him that his brother would thrive in this world, but Kael longed to reunite with his family.
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The tutorial had scattered humanity across vast, unfamiliar lands. Aeta had warned Kael that even after the tutorial ended, it could take years to find his loved ones. The new planet Earth would merge with was vast and perilous, rife with conflicts among the chosen of various gods. Kael clenched his fists as he imagined the wars to come. Surviving the tutorial was only the beginning.
He turned his attention back to the preparations below. The guards moved with disciplined urgency, fortifying walls and checking weapons. Every detail mattered—every moment counted. Yet the absence of Steven and Princess Seraphina gnawed at Kael. He didn’t trust them, but he disliked the undead factions even more.
Kael’s thoughts shifted to the upcoming battle. Was he strong enough to take on a vampire in direct combat? Confidence surged through him as he considered the question. He had yet to lose a duel, though sparring with Kai had tested him more than once. Even so, real combat was different. Kael doubted anyone could defeat him when he fought with lethal intent.
Much of his training had focused on specific weapons. As an archer, he could deal devastating damage from a distance, but tonight, he knew he would be in the thick of it. The vampires and undead would demand more than precision—he would need strength, resilience, and cunning to survive.
The scouts’ reports had painted a grim picture. The undead forces were vast, a roiling sea of monsters converging on the fortress. Kael suspected the vampires’ strategy was to overwhelm them with numbers during the night, forcing a grueling battle of attrition. But the defenses were formidable, and Kael doubted the undead could breach them before everyone in the base reached their credit goals.
Still, the absence of Evelyn, Kargul, and the shapeshifters weighed heavily on him. They were out searching for more of the enslaved shapeshifters Kael had freed, but their return was uncertain. Every soldier counted, and Kael couldn’t help but hope they would make it back before the undead forces closed in.
As the final preparations fell into place, Kael took a deep breath and steadied himself. Tonight would test his strength, his resolve, and his will to protect what mattered most. And if the undead thought they could break him, they were about to learn just how wrong they were.
<--
Eddie and Chloe were soaring through the skies in pursuit of Vorlok, the massive sky turtle whose imposing presence made the journey perilous. Their first encounter had nearly turned disastrous; Vorlok, mistaking them for food, had almost devoured them. It had taken considerable persuasion from Kargul and Evelyn to convince the turtle that they weren’t snacks in their beastforms.
Now, they had been traveling for days without finding Jack and Josh. Each passing day gnawed at Chloe’s resolve, her fear swelling like a shadow over her heart. She had already lost her family during the integration, and the odds of reuniting with them felt impossibly slim. Jack, Josh, and Eddie had become her new family, the ones she couldn’t bear to lose. The thought of losing any of them made her chest tighten with dread.
Looking back, she knew it was foolish to leave the safety of their base to search for Jack and Josh. The stage was vast, and they could have spawned anywhere, making this search feel as futile as chasing the horizon. Yet Kargul, Evelyn, and even Vorlok hadn’t seemed to mind. Kargul seemed to live for fighting, and Vorlok’s interest was entirely centered on food. Evelyn... well, Chloe wasn’t sure what Evelyn wanted, but the young healer appeared content with her unlikely new family—a towering orc and a gluttonous turtle.
Chloe often wondered how Evelyn managed to stay strong. The girl’s past was well-known, thanks to Kargul’s drunken retellings in Lars’ inn. Evelyn had arrived in this brutal new world alone, her original party slaughtered by one of their own who had gone mad. She was the sole survivor, and yet she had found solace in her new companions. Chloe admired that resilience but couldn’t imagine the depths of Evelyn’s pain.
Her thoughts wandered to Thalion. When they had encountered him in the ocean, he had been eerily calm, even laughing despite everything he had endured. His entire party was gone, his friends now his enemies, and yet he had pressed forward undeterred. Chloe envied that mindset. Without Jack and Josh, it felt as if part of her was missing, and she couldn’t rest until they were reunited.
Their days were relentless, filled with walking and occasional hunting when the group deemed it safe. Each hunt brought new opportunities for Eddie and Chloe to gain forms, but transforming in front of Vorlok was always a gamble. The turtle still hadn’t fully grasped that they could assume the shapes of the creatures they killed, often eyeing them suspiciously, as if deciding whether to make a snack of them after all.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the savanna, exhaustion finally caught up with them. They hadn’t slept the previous night, and the time for rest was long overdue. Perched on the sturdy branches of a massive tree, the group settled down. Kargul leaned heavily against Vorlok’s shell, snoring softly, while Eddie stretched out on the ground at a safe distance, doing his best to avoid touching the skyturtle.
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Chloe and Evelyn took the first watch. The air was cool, and the distant calls of unseen creatures echoed across the savanna. Chloe glanced at Evelyn, whose usual bright demeanor had dimmed. Evelyn’s shoulders slumped, her eyes glassy with unshed tears as she stared into the distance. The lively, cheerful teenager who had bonded so effortlessly with Kargul and Vorlok seemed a shadow of herself. Chloe couldn’t bear to see her like this.
“Eve, is everything all right?” Chloe finally asked, her voice gentle but insistent.
“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” Evelyn replied quickly, too quickly, her tone betraying the truth she was trying to hide.
Chloe’s expression softened. “The integration was painful for all of us. I can’t see my family anymore either, and I don’t even know if they’re alive. Just know that I’m here if you need someone to talk to, okay?”
“Thank you,” Evelyn murmured, her voice little more than a whisper as she turned her gaze back to the horizon.
But Chloe’s words couldn’t reach the depths of Evelyn’s pain. She had never told anyone the whole truth—not Kargul, not Chloe, not even Vorlok. The memories of that day haunted her, a wound too deep to share.
Unlike most, Evelyn’s family hadn’t been scattered during the tutorial. She had entered the system with her family, determined to protect them as their healer. Together, they had fought as a team, their bond unshakable. Even Cathrin, the outsider in their group, had been welcomed with open arms. For a time, life in the tutorial had been almost bearable. Evelyn had even chosen movement skills to keep up with her siblings during their games. Running with them had been her joy.
Then, the nightmare began. When they advanced to the next stage, Cathrin turned on them. The betrayal came without warning—Cathrin’s first strike aimed directly at Evelyn, intending to eliminate the healer. Evelyn, quick and desperate, managed to heal herself from the bloodcurse, but the fight had only just begun. Her family fought valiantly, but Cathrin was too strong. One by one, Evelyn watched her family fall, the bloodcurse draining their strength and her mana was running dry as she tried to heal them.
The witch mocked her as Evelyn’s attempts failed, intensifying the curse each time Evelyn tried to intervene. Her brother’s final words, “Run, Eve, run,” echoed in her mind as his eyes closed forever. And so, she ran. She ran faster than she ever thought possible, leaving behind the lifeless bodies of her family and the mocking laughter of Cathrin.
Even now, Evelyn was still running—not just from that jungle, but from the memory itself. She pushed it deep into the recesses of her mind, where it lingered like a festering wound, hidden but never truly gone.